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ORDER RtRs NOW!
Excerpt from RACE THE RISING SUN: So here I was, sitting back
on a hard mahogany beach chair, my feet up on a sandpapery, rough palm tree, watching the magnificent schooner Polynesia at
anchor off Pinney’s Beach on the Fourth of July. The warm glow of my second Killer Bee from Sunshine’s Beach Bar
was joining the glow from the sun as it settled to the sea, its last orange rays making me squint. My thoughts were of Lisa
and John Jr. Taking a big gulp of the cool citrus drink, I hoped that someday I could look at a beach and not see the ghosts
of my wife and son. From nowhere a long forgotten memory attacked me. His hair smelled like bubblegum shampoo, eyes
sparkling with that astonishing combination of mischief and innocence, so happy, so eager to please. All children have that
stage, at least for a moment in their lives. It could be days or weeks and then it is gone. Whether from an inner city ghetto,
Park Avenue mansion or third world shantytown. If you are lucky enough to witness this fleeting glimmer it is astonishing.
If it happens to be your own child the bond that results is so powerful that it burns into your psyche forever, so much so
that you will forgive that first speeding ticket, experiment with pot or all of the lies that come with the teenage years.
John Jr. was in that moment of paradise in Nantucket when we were playing in the dunes. He died three days later without ever
seeing me again. Hoots and hollers came from the schooner as passengers jumped off a makeshift pirate’s plank
to swim in the warm sea. Music from Sunshine’s further up the beach was mingling with that coming from the ship. The
direction of the flowing breeze from moment to moment determined which music I could hear more clearly. A quarter mile off
of Nevis, Bob Seger battled with Jimmy Buffet in a windy, lyrical brawl. |
ORDER PARADISE MADE NOW!
Excerpt from PARADISE MADE: After about an hour there was a
light breaking through the canopy. I walked toward the light coming from under a banana tree with gargantuan green leaves.
It was as if I were going from a dark cave out to safety. It always amazed me. Every April during my last days on Oahu I made
this pilgrimage. It was a profound difference going out of a sixty-eight degree, dark misty jungle onto this particular peak
where there were only boulders, scrubby plants and short grass. It was also eighty-five degrees, dry and windy as a bitch.
The transition only took a few steps. Walking out of the jungle I crossed into the sunlight. Shortly, I found the
large black volcanic boulder on the eastern side of the peak and sat down to catch my breath. Moxie was already on his back
in the shady leeward side of the rock panting hard. At six foot two and two hundred ten pounds I was severely lean. A regimen of running, swimming
and free body exercises like pull-ups, push-ups and dips made it almost impossible for me to gain weight. I liked being in
shape. Powerful enough to handle myself in a tight spot but also having the speed and endurance to get away if need be allowed
me an edge of confidence necessary for my chosen profession. Securely anchoring the clothes with smallish volcanic,
red stones from the hard gusting winds, I got a bowl and a jug of water out of the knapsack for the mutt - Moxie. Naomi, my
neighbor, had made fresh bread this morning before dawn. Its crust was so hard I had to break it open on the boulder. I sat
back on the smooth, wind-worn volcanic rock and tasted this fantastic bread as spicy winds swirled out past me into the pacific.
I had an aluminum thermos with dark, black Kona Coast coffee. Now opening it added to the breezes heading out to sea. |
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