On July 1 - that's today - you can no longer hold a cell phone while driving. It's a silver lining on a day when all the increased taxes and fees go into effect. I have to have a cell phone. But I don't, yet, have to have Bluetooth, or a headset, or any other hands-free thing that will force me to talk on the phone from the sanctity of my car. I now have an excuse not to answer the cell. "Sorry, I was driving, and the new law..."

Now I can drive in peace, listen to the FM radio, pay attention to the road, maybe even put in a cassette tape (just google it, kids). Once again, the car has become a place of refuge, a brief respite from the constant yammering. For a short time every day — every day — I will be virtually unreachable.

So put your phone down, drive safely, keep your attention on the road, and don't fret. It's only for a little while. In the meantime, enjoy the ride.

Through all his weirdness, I held fast to my core conviction:

Michael Jackson was a great talent, who was derailed by, well, that weirdness thing.

I'm not saying he had no part in his own career demise. He had everything to do with it, his character already wounded by a sometimes sordid upbringing and the basic corruption faced by all child stars.

But I saw that famous 1983 TV appearance in which he moonwalked and spun and made us believe that "Billie Jean is not my lover." (Oh, if we only knew then how true that was!) And I thought, this guy owns this audience. Superstar is an overused term, but it applies to him.

Perhaps I should add that I had a special spot in my heart for Jackson ever since I was 13 and I won my one and only radio contest. On KPOI 1380AM, there was a countdown "Name That Tune" game. I was the right caller. The countdown began along with the music. "Thirteen dollars and eighty cents!" the DJ shouted. "Twelve dollars. Eleven dollars."

I named that tune: "I'll Be There."

That was the best 11 bucks I ever earned. It brought more joy to my teenybopper heart than all of Michael's millions ever brought him.

-- Vicki Viotti

On Oct. 11, the Belgian priest, Fr. Damien de Veuster, will become a saint of the Roman Catholic Church. There has already been lots of news coverage in The Advertiser and other media since the canonization was announced, and as the official ceremony draws closer.

For non-Catholics and those who don't believe in the divine, all this attention to a religious ritual for one man may seem a bit much. Damien himself, a modest man of humble origins, likely would agree. But there are historical reasons that Hawaii folks, religious or not, can appreciate.

Of all the thousands of saints revered by the 2,000-year-old church – from popes to paupers,  famous to forgotten — Damien's ministry is unique.

He will be the first, and only, saint who spoke Hawaiian.

He will be the first, and only, saint who lived as a Hawaiian — sharing poi from the common calabash as he traveled the remote corners of his parish in Kohala, where, in the late 1800s, the old Hawaiian ways were still practiced.

He treated the banished Hawaiians lepers with a dignity and humanity denied them by their government and popular Western opinion. And he put Hawai‘i on the map.

Many saints labored in obscurity and remain known only in the communities they served, if that. Not Damien. He gained worldwide fame while alive, and from his lonely outpost on Molokai, he did what a proper saint is supposed to do: He inspired others to good works, and to follow his example of treating society's untouchables and outcasts with human dignity and love.

His followers included Mahatma Gandhi, a champion for India's untouchables caste, and Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who built her Missionaries of Charity organization to serve "the poorest of the poor." Damien Centers around the country follow his example in caring for HIV/AIDs patients.

For this is what a saint is: An example of a life lived to the highest ideals of love, service and peace. Impossible to reach perhaps, but worth reaching for.

Even so, why should non-Catholics — or non-believers — care that Damien will become a saint in the Catholic church?

Here's one  reason: Out of simple respect for the man. After all, Damien didn't come to Hawai‘i because he wanted to be Hawaiian. He didn't want to be famous, or set a good example to last 120 years. He didn't come because he believed in social justice.

He came because he was a devout Catholic, and wanted to serve God by following the example of another man: Jesus Christ. For Damien, his life's mission — the work that brought him worldwide fame and adulation from believers and non-believers alike — was built on his unshakeable devotion to his God and his religion. To Damien, his faith is what mattered most.

From that perspective, sainthood becomes a fundamental part of the Damien story.

A previous post posited the position that Twitter was a "colossal waste of time." For some people who live in a free country, maybe.

But for others who don't, it's proved a revolutionary form of expression. Perhaps literally.

Is it possible for something to be both galling and unsurprising at the same time?

Anyway, that's how I respond to Ann Kobayashi's latest political announcement, that she's seeking a return to City Hall.

She said at the time -- it was just last fall -- that she was ready to move on from City Council but had to be persuaded that a run for the mayor's seat was a good plan. When that decision was made, it came in so late that those wanting to fill her Council vacancy had to scramble and ... well, you know all about that mess.

I never really believed that she wanted out of Council politics, so I was anything but stunned to hear she wants to succeed her late successor in the chair, Duke Bainum.

But it was startling that she made the move rather soon after his death. What was the rush, exactly? Couldn't there have been a brief, marginally tasteful mourning period? Wouldn't now have been the time to hold off on any public statement?

Lastly, consider how long Kobayashi still has left, potentially, on the Council. She was elected in 2002 in a special election replacing Andy Mirikitani. Those two years did not count against term limits. Council members are barred from serving more than two regular, consecutive terms. Kobayashi's first began upon her election in 2004. Then she decided not to run for re-election. If she wins the special election, those 3 1/2 years don't count against her term limits, either. Because she took a Council hiatus of six months, she can run for two more consecutive terms starting in 2012.

But by then, she could — and should — be genuinely sick of Council politics.

-- Vicki Viotti