Mission to Maui
The following notes were submitted previous to this date. I have decided to share some moments from Maui.
Mission to Maui
(Day 1)
Wednesday September 2, 2009
Today started at 5:30 a.m. It still hadn’t hit me that I was about to voyage off with my girlfriend, Victoria Wynn, to the Hawaiian Islands- Maui, Kahana Beach. I was still under the funk of my mundane local residence Salt Lake City, or as I sometimes call it: The Salty Cracker.
I was fighting off, what I believe to be, some strain of the infamous swine flu, or H141 virus that was announced as a pandemic crisis six-months ago. The reason I was convinced that this was my clinging ailment was the similarities to the common diagnosis. It attacks the respiratory system. For the longest time, I was certain I had walking pneumonia. I was up late coughing and vomiting for five-weeks. It seemed like it was never going to end. At one point I thought I was developing something cancerous- the kind of thing that crosses one’s mind as they sit hopped up on cold medicine hallucinating next to the toilet, but alas, the virus was depleting on this morning, as the coughs began to sound much healthier, compared to the choking-old-trucker-hack that went on for weeks.
We started with some tedious errands that I was not pleased about. Forgot to get cat food the night before, had to drop off the kids, attempted to acquire some last minute cash. All this took place as the clock ticked closer and closer to the opportunity of missing our flight.
Arriving at the airport, we ran into the common hassles of preparing to board, one of them being an assistant that insisted it was too late for me to check in for my flight.
My girlfriend, Victoria, has a cool sense about her, and never seems to fight anxiety, where I, having studied the Tao, and the laws of control, couldn’t seem to repress my Italian-short-fuse. The profanity was leaking out all over the place, as I pulled items out of a fifty-seven pound suitcase that we were trying to deflate for check-in.
After racing up escalators, through security, repacking my freshly searched carry on, and charging to the terminal, I boarded our flight drenched in sweat, but extremely relieved. I didn’t sit next to Victoria on this flight. She was in first class. She was thoughtful enough to send her free cocktail back to me, and have the flight attendant apologize: “She says sorry for making you late.” I was suddenly overcome with the happiness I experience when I think of her. Though I don’t find a lot of her ways systematically accommodating, she has a way of pulling life off, something I relish, and in the aftermath laugh to myself about on the inside.
From Salt Lake we landed in Seattle, a place I consider to be my old home. I once lived in Seattle, in another life, many years ago. I have rich memories in the city, and in the North West. I had the luxury of taking Victoria to many of those places during our layover at Sea-Tac.
I made the same mistake as I always do when I bus into Seattle. I always forget to take the transit to Westlake Center. Instead, I get off around Pioneer Square, and routinely huff it to the Pike Place Market. It really isn’t a bad hike, unless you are packing fifty-pounds of crap on your back, and lugging a loaded laptop bag around.
Last time I came into the city was two years ago on my way to Vancouver, CA. I had an even heavier pack on. Sure enough, I get so excited to be in Seattle that I get off at that same damn stop, and end up killing myself up those hills.
We had a lovely walk through the market, and enjoyed some savory smoked salmon lochs, on what started out as a typically overcast Seattle morning. The sun washed all the fog out by 10:30, and Seattle was a rainbow of fruit vision and floral ambience.
We caught the monorail to Seattle Center then bussed back to Sea-Tac, where we stood in a line longer than “Pirates of the Caribbean”.
Our flight to Honolulu was a long one. I made my way to the bathroom line at the back of the plane. After waiting for three people to do their best work on these miniature poop-closets, the guy in front of me leans toward the door. I thought he was putting on some kind of sarcastic show, a reaction to many of the air-travel nuances that take place, (believe me, if you want to study cynical sociology, go to an airport sometime) the kid falls over like a drunk on St. Patrick’s day. How timely! “Is there a doctor on board?” came over the intercom.
We arrived in Hawaii at 8:30 Hawaii time- 11:30 our time. My body was not digging this. We had one more flight to catch to the island of Maui, another jog through airports with our stuff- a moment where I could have really used a forklift.
Then a final surprise- a one-hour drive to Kahana from Kahului. The night ended when we walked into our suite on the top floor of the Kahana Beach Resort Condominiums. The sliding glass door was open at the back of the room. The serene chant of Maui waves could be heard breathing into the night air. The view was spectacular, but an even more breathtaking mindset as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes the following morning.
Maui is a whole new oyster about to open for me.
Mission to Maui
(Day 1)
Wednesday September 2, 2009
Today started at 5:30 a.m. It still hadn’t hit me that I was about to voyage off with my girlfriend, Victoria Wynn, to the Hawaiian Islands- Maui, Kahana Beach. I was still under the funk of my mundane local residence Salt Lake City, or as I sometimes call it: The Salty Cracker.
I was fighting off, what I believe to be, some strain of the infamous swine flu, or H141 virus that was announced as a pandemic crisis six-months ago. The reason I was convinced that this was my clinging ailment was the similarities to the common diagnosis. It attacks the respiratory system. For the longest time, I was certain I had walking pneumonia. I was up late coughing and vomiting for five-weeks. It seemed like it was never going to end. At one point I thought I was developing something cancerous- the kind of thing that crosses one’s mind as they sit hopped up on cold medicine hallucinating next to the toilet, but alas, the virus was depleting on this morning, as the coughs began to sound much healthier, compared to the choking-old-trucker-hack that went on for weeks.
We started with some tedious errands that I was not pleased about. Forgot to get cat food the night before, had to drop off the kids, attempted to acquire some last minute cash. All this took place as the clock ticked closer and closer to the opportunity of missing our flight.
Arriving at the airport, we ran into the common hassles of preparing to board, one of them being an assistant that insisted it was too late for me to check in for my flight.
My girlfriend, Victoria, has a cool sense about her, and never seems to fight anxiety, where I, having studied the Tao, and the laws of control, couldn’t seem to repress my Italian-short-fuse. The profanity was leaking out all over the place, as I pulled items out of a fifty-seven pound suitcase that we were trying to deflate for check-in.
After racing up escalators, through security, repacking my freshly searched carry on, and charging to the terminal, I boarded our flight drenched in sweat, but extremely relieved. I didn’t sit next to Victoria on this flight. She was in first class. She was thoughtful enough to send her free cocktail back to me, and have the flight attendant apologize: “She says sorry for making you late.” I was suddenly overcome with the happiness I experience when I think of her. Though I don’t find a lot of her ways systematically accommodating, she has a way of pulling life off, something I relish, and in the aftermath laugh to myself about on the inside.
From Salt Lake we landed in Seattle, a place I consider to be my old home. I once lived in Seattle, in another life, many years ago. I have rich memories in the city, and in the North West. I had the luxury of taking Victoria to many of those places during our layover at Sea-Tac.
I made the same mistake as I always do when I bus into Seattle. I always forget to take the transit to Westlake Center. Instead, I get off around Pioneer Square, and routinely huff it to the Pike Place Market. It really isn’t a bad hike, unless you are packing fifty-pounds of crap on your back, and lugging a loaded laptop bag around.
Last time I came into the city was two years ago on my way to Vancouver, CA. I had an even heavier pack on. Sure enough, I get so excited to be in Seattle that I get off at that same damn stop, and end up killing myself up those hills.
We had a lovely walk through the market, and enjoyed some savory smoked salmon lochs, on what started out as a typically overcast Seattle morning. The sun washed all the fog out by 10:30, and Seattle was a rainbow of fruit vision and floral ambience.
We caught the monorail to Seattle Center then bussed back to Sea-Tac, where we stood in a line longer than “Pirates of the Caribbean”.
Our flight to Honolulu was a long one. I made my way to the bathroom line at the back of the plane. After waiting for three people to do their best work on these miniature poop-closets, the guy in front of me leans toward the door. I thought he was putting on some kind of sarcastic show, a reaction to many of the air-travel nuances that take place, (believe me, if you want to study cynical sociology, go to an airport sometime) the kid falls over like a drunk on St. Patrick’s day. How timely! “Is there a doctor on board?” came over the intercom.
We arrived in Hawaii at 8:30 Hawaii time- 11:30 our time. My body was not digging this. We had one more flight to catch to the island of Maui, another jog through airports with our stuff- a moment where I could have really used a forklift.
Then a final surprise- a one-hour drive to Kahana from Kahului. The night ended when we walked into our suite on the top floor of the Kahana Beach Resort Condominiums. The sliding glass door was open at the back of the room. The serene chant of Maui waves could be heard breathing into the night air. The view was spectacular, but an even more breathtaking mindset as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes the following morning.
Maui is a whole new oyster about to open for me.
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