East

My friend Kelly asked me if I ever get culture shock when I'm on the East Coast. Good question. Of all the places I've been in the U.S. (not many compared to Europe/Asia) I thought I would have felt the most culture shock in Greensboro, North Carolina. Apart from the numerous "Praise the Lord," and "REPENT" signs that seemed to appear every 50 yards--I didn't feel so out of place. Odd. Maybe it was because of the company I was in, or that the humidity reminded me of Hawai'i.

There were things I had never seen/experienced before. People talked about "prayer chains" and how entire congregations set up a domino effect of prayer for a little girl who happened to catch a rather brutal flu virus. People had compact three bedroom homes with large trampolines in their grassy backyards. I watched kids stuff down saltine crackers after coating it in ranch dressing. I walked through a super market called "Harris Teeter." I heard Vietnamese women with thick North Carolina accents. I witnessed people actually making the rice you boil in a bag.

But there was something in Greensboro that made me feel less of an alien. What was it? Of course it was the food. There was a passion and heartiness to the food that reminded me of the way people are with food in Hawai'i. Or rather, the preoccupation and deeply felt connection to it.

I discovered Cheerwine (a cherry flavored soda), Brunswick stew, Moravian lemon cookies, hush puppies, NC style bbq, and Crock Pot beef roast, and Chick-Fil-A sandwiches. Even today, I get appreciative and warm smiles from N. Carolina natives when I mention my knowledge and love of Brunswick stew and Cheerwine. I'm certain I'd have a similar reaction if I met someone from Greensboro who professed their love for loco mocos or portuguese sausage eggs and rice.

So about the East Coast--and that was what I intended to write about here. In about 24 hours, Cappy and I will be buying up copies of Us, Vanity Fair, the New Yorker, and In Touch for our flight to Newark Liberty. We'll spend about 6 days wandering about New York City, Long Island, Philadelphia and a bit of New Jersey.

List of things to do:

-Katz's deli. I can't wait to turn through the turnstile with my ticket for a Kosher pastrami sandwich. Pickles. And probably a nap right after.

-Ground Zero. After a bit of deliberation, I've decided that I'd like to visit the memorial. I'm not looking forward to the sellers of 9/11 memorabilia--t-shirts and flip photo albums of the burning twin towers. Reminds me of the lady selling postcards at Auschwitz-Birkenau. Grisly.

-Cappy Landmarks. Would like to see where Cappy went to high school and college. Where she worked on the Pennsylvania Main Line, where she grew up in Long Island, her favorite place for dim sum in Manhattan, etc.

-SoHo and Tribeca. We're staying at a hotel in the downtown area near these neighborhoods. It's been a long while since I've walked through these streets. The last time I was here, I bought an ankh necklace that I've not seen since I bought it. The Hunger was my favorite movie back then.

-A Cheesesteak sandwich in Philadelphia. It is true, Cheese Wiz is an ingredient. I can dig a 4000 calorie sandwich. Jesus.

There is a bit more I'm looking forward to, but I can't get to that right now.

Hawai'i Transplant

A while ago I received a forward called, "You know you're from Hawai'i when..." It was a list of things that only those from Hawai'i would recognise about themselves. It was quite funny and true. My good friend and Oah'u transplant mentioned that it we needed a similar list for Hawai'i transplants. Though I just spent summers in Hilo, I grew up in a mainland community of Kauai and Oah'u transplants.

So here's my list:

You know you're a mainland transplant from Hawai'i when....

-You suffer a lot of awkward silences among those mainland folks who just don't get your jokes with playful racial overtones

-You're the only one clamoring to help do dishes at the ends of dinner parties

-When you notice people leaving a party, you rush to make a plate for them

-You silently scoff at those who actually take home the food they bring to a party but then remind yourself that you're not on an island

-You wince when people ask, "So, is your family Hawaiian?" And you're clearly of Asian origin

-You can turn your pidgin on and off with the greatest of ease. Or, you sometimes forget that you indeed speak another dialect!

-"Care Package" means dried squid, li hing mui, One Ton chips, and packages of poi rather than scented candles, lavender bath salts, and potpourri

-You understand where the song line "...and no go out with Mits Funai" comes from and still laugh out loud about it

-You feel an immediate sense of warmth when you inadvertantly hear pidgin being spoken in a public place

-You gravitate to Hawai'i festivals just for the food--and even if the beef stew is junk, you still feel satisfied

-People always gush, "You're SO generous" when you're just acting naturally

-You want to call your friend's parents "Uncle" and "Auntie"

-You have fun guessing the island of another Hawai'i transplant based on the pidgin slang they use

-To you, a casual dinner means you can wear a t-shirt, shorts, and slippers

-You feel a hint of shame when you tell your non-Hawai'i friends that you actually enjoy eating SPAM

-Everyone around you seems to speed walk in comparison to your easy stroll

-Whenever the topic about Hawai'i comes up you're the "expert" even if it's about a place you've never been to

-When in Las Vegas, you always stop at the California hotel for some good local food

-You've taught people that to make their palms face inward when making the "shaka sign," and not outward like a tourist

-At a potluck, your dish is usually the ugliest, but most satisfying

-It still takes you a second to realise that "flip flops" means slippers

-People think you're "overly obsessed" with food. (...unless they are Chinese)

-You naturally take your shoes off when you enter a house

-You feel that walking on carpet with shoes feels funny

-You have a large shark's tooth hanging down from your rear view mirror

-You stop to smell the papayas at Berkeley Bowl even though you would never buy them at nearly $3 each

I'm homesick. I hear ATA has cheap flights: Oakland-Hilo.

Locked In

My friend/co-worker and I fired back emails today about our favorite 4AD groups. She was listening to the Cure and mentally moping as she claims to have done from ages 14-17. Good times.

I just heard on NPR that our musical tastes are pretty much set between 14-21 and that after the age of 35 it's hard for adults to get into new music. Hmm. I've been emotionally grounded with melancholic electronica from the grey skies of Britain.

Most of my adult musical consciousness was undoubtedly framed by what I listened to between the ages of 14-21. And this was anything and everything British: Duran Duran, Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode, Cocteau Twins, Talk Talk, The Cure.

Speaking of Depeche Mode...

In high school, Trent and I would drive out to a lakeside park on Mercer Island, smoke cloves and carry on this way: "Isn't strangelove about S&M?" "What is the real emotion expressed if one declares, 'i need to drink more than you seem to think before i'm anyone's...' and "Is Blue Dress about the fact that Martin Gore likes drag queens, or maybe that he likes to wear heels from time to time?" And the ever uplifting, "What do you think is the least painful or preferable way to die?" Trent: drowning (he was a merman) Me: while asleep.

Now i don't feel so bad over the age of 35, unable to connect with new music that you'd think i love but really can't stand.

Summer

I've been missing from the blogosphere for most of this fastly disappearing summer, this is true. I have been doing a mental record of the travels and exploits of Penny, Cappy, and the canine centenarian. Not everything, but a few things thus far...

Russian River:
Who knew water ankle deep in parts could be so much fun? How many women does it take to row a canoe upstream? The answer: 3. Two to paddle/steer, and one to shout out directions--imagine a sundrenched cockswain armed with organic hops and arugula. The Tubular One wasn't too keen on the canoe bit. She was more fascinated by the nearby web footed ones. You could nearly hear the T.O.'s telepathic shouts of glee, "My food source! My food source! Now all I need to do is dig up some sweet potatoes..."

Side note: I really believe that pets should only eat foods that they can feasibly track and kill. I knew a cat who ate a dry mix of lamb and rice. Lamb? This is hilarious to me. Can you imagine a feisty feline attacking a mid-sized lamb for dinner? In my mind, this upsets the natural order of things.

Anyway, at Russian River--snacks, scrabble, and a Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency marathon (!!) guided us through the night before we got back to the river the following day.

We're headed back to Russian River this coming weekend, but with an increase of five more gals. I see more beer, rounds of Texas Hold 'Em, and even more excuses to head to Monte Rio's Sonoma Wine and Cheese shop.

Summer Movies:
Didn't see many this summer. Our best film moments have been courtesy of Netflix. We did see "Scoop" on its opening night. We were the youngest members of the audience. I smirked rather than laughed. All i can say was that the popcorn was really great.

Work:
An upcoming release has taken most of my time. Read: half-eaten lunches at my desk, little time for shoreline walks, and too much time staring at a computer. Apart from the Tahoe retreat, it's been quite engaging. Life fulfilling: low. Career building and good times w/colleagues: high.

Misc:
Fun barbeques and picnics, our Bouillabaisse adventure with Fabrice and Jen, swimming and strawberry/passion fruit tapioca smoothies, great reading, a lot of tennis, and general subdued mayhem.

For those of you know who know and understand my thing with Morten Harket, read on... I've just received the DVD "a-ha Live at Vallhall." The DVD includes footage of the lads hanging out before a concert--being their usual passionate extroverted selves. And the added bonus of a flash created video for "I wish I cared." It has made my top ten list of all-time favorite music videos. Also in my top ten: Duran Duran's "Is there something I should know?" and Madness' "Our House," among others.

I've learned recently about another 4AD darling, "Blonde Redhead." The sound? Kind of like Bjork with a hippie electronic backup band. A vocally careless Japanese singer. The sound is raw and very real. I keep seeing visions of Duran Duran's "Save a Prayer" video whenever I listen to this music. Well, just the song "Elephant Woman." I'm not sure why.

Summer travel will come later for us. We'll be heading out to the E. Coast for real this time. It's high time I visit the tennis courts where Cappy developed her killer backhand, her high school, her childhood home in Long Island, and a NYC hot dog. The last time I was in NY was a very long time ago. At that time, I had this crazy thought that a Smith MSW was something I had to do, and that moving to Seoul w/my French girlfriend was going to keep us together.

This time around I'd like to see what the city (NYC) looks like from a spiritually sober place.

Will it seem as noisy or more so? Will I be able to locate my long lost friend Geno S. in Brooklyn? And where are those big round rocks in Central Park? Is the dim sum in New Jersey as good as Cappy's mom says it is? And lastly, I will finally experience a proper Philadelphia cheesesteak sandwich. Is Cheese Wiz really a main ingredient?