In 1990 when the statue of Duke Kahanamoku was erected in Waikiki, a group of traditionalists complained the Duke would never turn his back on the sea and insisted the statue be turned around.  Which never happened.  It’s still good advice, unless you’re a statue.

I’m about to join the ranks of the transit riders — for a little while, anyway.

Naturally, I’ve taken the bus before and know my own home-to-work route well. For the last two years I’ve worked in a department in which I don’t need my car for work that much.

It’s the chore of getting the kid to school that has kept me behind the wheel. That, and the fact that I like this semi-quiet time in the morning, and I love listening to morning radio. (Even the station my daughter prefers!)

But since the kid got her driver’s license, there have been more occasions when she begged for the car, I relented and found another way home.

Today marks the first day of her first summer with a driver’s license, and the booking has already begun. A friend who recently moved to the Mainland is coming back for a visit and is staying with us for a week.

“Mom,” the teenager informed me, “I’m gonna want the car kind of a LOT while Rachel’s here.”

Oooookay, I said.

I have the option of riding along with my husband, but he likes to leave later than I do. Also, wiith every upward tick of the per-gallon gas price, mass transit looks better and better, I figure that now’s a good time to try the bus on an experimental basis. The kid’ll be going off to college before I know it, and by then who knows what gas will cost?

I’ll let you know how it goes.

At least I can bring a radio headset along with me. No need to sacrifice that little pleasure.

 – Vicki Viotti 

Some time ago I decided to go to Pamplona and run with the bulls.  You know, one of those things a guy’s gotta do once in his life.  I like to draw animals and figured I’d come back with  a lot of neat sketches.  I did a lot of research including watching old movies.  Time was running short.  I had to make my reservations.  But you have to book at least two years in advance.  As a member of AARP I tried to get some special consideration.  Unfortunately, they wouldn’t take me seriously.  I could get a flight but would have to sleep in the park with a million drunken  students and hippies.  Then I began to ponder how much drawing I could do dodging a lot of bulls and crazy hippies.  I had already bought new running shoes and practiced zig-zagging up and down the street every morning.  To be honest, I got cold feet.  But I continued to practice drawing bulls.  Not in Spain but in North Shore cow pastures.

The original of the picture above was done in Japanese ink sumie style 24″ by 36″.  I don’t us a brush.  I draw from the bottle.  Kind of tricky.  You can’t hesitate.  I do the whole thing in seconds and use a lot of paper till I get it right.  And it takes forever to dry.  But I have time.  I’m not going anywhere.

It was a personal and professional privilege to have met John Keolamaka’ainana Lake, a gentleman in the fullest sense of that word, during his fruitful life as a steward of Hawaiian culture.

Oddly enough, my husband knew him, too — but as a Spanish teacher at St. Louis High School. That was back in the ’60’s, before the Hawaiian cultural renaissance, when a renewed appreciation for the native arts was just beginning. Keola Lake helped to drive what Hawaiian cultural activities there were on the Crusader campus (and the late George Helm was one of his featured students), but there weren’t too many full-time Hawaiian teachers around, and teaching Spanish became his gig.

Perhaps it’s not so odd, considering what a man of the world this kumu really was. What was so admirable about him was his embrace of all religions and cultures. Spiritually he was both Catholic and a practitioner of the Hawaiian religion and he saw absolutely no  conflict there. While covering one of his ‘uniki (graduation) ceremonies for his students of  the hula, chant and kahuna arts, I noted that the ancient Hawaiian rites took place at the Catholic Marianist retreat in ‘Ewa Beach. How cool was that?

There was also his delightful personality. Another admirer once told me that Lake personified the definition of the word ‘olu’olu: pleasant, nice, amiable, satisfied, contented, happy, affable, agreeable, congenial, cordial, gracious. He was all those things.

But today I looked up the literal meaning of his middle name — the life of the people who attend the land — and am struck by how well that suited him.

– Vicki Viotti 

The editorial board here has long supported what’s known as a shield law for journalists. Now the Legislature has passed one, and suddenly we’re conflicted about it.

Why? Because the whole nature of the journalism profession has changed. Mainly, it’s a good change: Anyone who has access to a blog — and that would be everyone, right? — can be a journalist. They can post articles on sites that look reasonably professional and, with some low- to no-cost promotion, get the word out. THEIR words.

A shield law essentially protects the journalist from a court order that they turn over their sources and notes. Journalists often cannot get information critical to investigative or other controversial pieces without a promise of anonymity, so there are cases in which sources need protection or they simply won’t come forward.

Many news organizations have rules in place to prevent abuse. Otherwise, we’d be running stories with anonymous accusations from sources that have nothing to lose and probably something to gain.

The problem is, independent bloggers have no gatekeepers to enforce similar standards. Should they have the same protections in court?

To make a long discussion short, I think there’s more to be gained from the new Hawai’i law than to be lost. There is a risk of abuse, but there are established news organizations that don’t abide by their own rules, either. And the media is self-policing, anyway, so who can tell which standards are being met?

We could come to no resolution. I’d be interested in what the readers think.

– Vicki Viotti