I am woken up today by two distinct sounds outside my window, which were perhaps vaguely integrated into my last dreams of the morning.

The first is a gaggle of girls' voices, shouting and yelling and initially I think there's some kind of fight going on and then I think I'm dreaming of those girls fighting in the stairwell at Jorge's school but then I recognize the cadence, the staccato patterns, almost guttural and pop-gun-like and realize that it's a group of cheerleaders in full-throated-yell mode and I imagine they're already prancing around and throwing their bodies into somersaults, letter-shapes, and pyramids with the girl on top leaping free in a big, sharp L to the arms of her comrades below, as the final line of the chant is yelled: "GO! Big GREEN!"

The second is the sound of ripping paper. But huge, gigantic fat sheets of it, ripping and tearing and cracking and crashing and this time I have no idea what could possibly be making this sound although I have the weird, dreamlike image in my mind of those cheerleaders running into paper walls that have been erected on the small park outside and that part of their routine is to dash and burst through the paper, all the while chanting and yelling their devotion to the Lahainaluna High School team. This slightly bizarre notion causes me to finally bestir myself and get up, pull the shades open and slide the glass lanai door aside to see what's up.

So begins my day.

[ photo notes: click on each of the photographs above to see a wide angle view of the scene. in the first, you'll see how the small park is situated in front of the parsonage, and in the second you'll get a better sense of how large and tall the trees are that Charlie's attacking with tuneful gusto. ]

And my morning continued with the conversation below, as I logged on to AIM to see who, if any, of the usual suspects at this time would be on (Candace and Damien are, usually; sometimes Giancarlo). Surprisingly, Ozzie was online, and the following ensued: [NOTE: those who were privileged to witness Ozzie's now-classic public remark at my Internet Classroom last summer will have some idea why the following is hilarious.]

8 p.m. Around 5 this afternoon, after watching a video I had borrowed from the library, on the life of T.E. Lawrence (of Lawrence of Arabia fame), I hurried over to the wharf, as I could see that the sky above was a lovely mottled mass of scudding clouds and I was sure the setting sun was going to paint a wonderful pastel painting on this canvas. I walked past the wharf and onto the beach south of the dock, sat on the sand for a long while, just watching this slowly developing piece of atmospheric art. As it got dark I walked back, and snapped some pictures of several feral wharf cats who live in holes on the rockwall under a jetty. Back over where the slips were, a group of kids were fishing for little crabs, using bits of octopus for bait. I sat on the wooden slip and watched for a while until one of them invited me to try it, and I got to contribute two crablets into their pail in which a whole mess of them were already swimming and skittering, a few lethargically. As I left, they asked me to take their picture, and I obliged. That's Keoni on the left, Malia on the right, and the barechested little boy is Sylvester. I'm sure I'll see them around some other time, as they're my neighbors it turns out, and attend the elementary school next to the wharf.

Appropriately, the day ends with Charlie Brown coming up after dinner and bringing me an extra spear-fishing pole he had. Around noon today, as I was leaving for a bike ride I stopped for a while to talk to Charlie, who had taken a break from his morning's labours. As I mentioned to him that I was going to bike over in the direction of Keiki Beach, he told me about the excellent octopus-fishing at the north end of the reef over there, and that he could take me there sometime to spear octopi. I accepted, with alacrity! Charlie proceeded to describe how this activity is done... one has to go out on the reef at around 5 in the morning, where it's already light enough to see in the water but the sun isn't up yet, and the tide is at its lowest. He said that as you dive down with a snorkeling mask, it's easy to see the octopuses, which are clinging to the shallow coral. They are bagged with the spearing-pole, which is launched like a slingshot, from very close range. But you have to flip the spear up quickly, as the struggling octopus, still very much alive, will grab the coral and it'll be hard to pull it off otherwise. The spear Charlie brought upstairs to lend me is metallic (aluminum, I think) with a tip comprised of three sharp prongs. The only thing missing was the long, heavy rubber band that attaches to one end, which comprises the propelling mechanism. He told me I could get one for the spear over at the Maui Dive Shop which is just around the corner from here. I'm looking forward to it already.

Now to make a few phone calls to distant places, go online, and then watch another video I borrowed also from the library, Central Station, a foreign (Brazilian) movie from about a year ago, which I loved and which I highly recommend to you. Fernanda Montenegro, the actress starring in it was nominated for an Oscar. Though she didn't win, as the Oscar for Best Actress for 1999 went to some completely forgettable American that year, Montenegro most certainly deserved to win. One of the best parts of the movie is the 'text' in it, in which illiterate folk have the main character, Dora, write letters for them to their loved ones. It's in Portuguese, with English sub-titles. Go rent it, for a different non-Hollywood experience.

{ net.casting }
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