The Neigbors (aka I am a product of pop culture)

We have new neighbors. They moved in a few weeks before Mom's birthday, and it was at her birthday party that we all realized a loud local family now lives where the quiet Japanese family used to. The neighborhood is definitely more lively with them around, due in part to the fact that they have a few young kids (which inevitably attracts other young kids from around the neighborhood), and in part because peculiar things happen around their house, like random cars driving slowly past their house at night, and policemen suddenly stopping by.

However, they are not the only house whose domestic noise spills out into the streets (goodness knows we've contributed our share over the years). The house across the street also contributes a good deal to the accoustic makeup of our neighborhood, not to mention that they get A LOT of visitors. Random cars frequently pull into their driveway at all hours of the day, though a policeman has yet to make an appearance.

So, with all this excitement in the neighborhood, I guess I'm a bit on guard. Or on edge. Or more aptly, just really want some juicy gossip to happen. And I thought I was going to get my wish last Saturday morning when I heard a big booming voice coming from outside. Immediately I rushed to the kitchen window, thinking it was coming from our new neighbor's house, considering they already had a previous brush with the law. But when I didn't see any people, cars, or anything unusual from that direction, I glanced across the street, and thats when I saw a large man dressed all in black yelling into the window of the house across the street. I thought "No way!" because I thought it was the cops and how crazy is it that both our neighbors get visited by the cops in one weeks time!? But then thought "Awesome!" cause the guy didn't seem to be wearing an official cop's uniform, so I thought maybe he was part of the Hawaiian Mafia, here to collect his large sum of cash, or someone's left toe.

Being that our kitchen window screens are filthy, I ran to the living room to peek out the large glass windows. I saw the man in black move into the garage and start rummaging through all the items, perhaps looking for something valuable to confiscate or destroy to assert his dominance. The man was quickly joined by his accomplice, a short, squat, blonde woman with a cropped haircut wearing a bright turquoise tanktop, denim culottes, and sneakers. ....Huh? His accomplice is a rather round, middle-aged woman?

Thats when I saw the sign..."Garage Sale Here Today."

My fantasy shattered, I realized the man in black was not a cop or part of the Hawaiian mafia, but just a garage sale customer trying to get the attention of the family inside to let them know he and his wife were here to peruse their wares. And come to think of it, he wasn't even wearing black.

Snapshot

Introducing Snap Shots from Snap.com

I just installed a nice little tool on this site called Snap Shots that enhances links with visual previews of the destination site, interactive excerpts of Wikipedia articles, MySpace profiles, IMDb profiles and Amazon products, display inline videos, RSS, MP3s, photos, stock charts and more.

Sometimes Snap Shots bring you the information you need, without your having to leave the site, while other times it lets you "look ahead," before deciding if you want to follow a link or not.

Should you decide this is not for you, just click the Options icon in the upper right corner of the Snap Shot and opt-out.

I've installed Snap Shots on both Closed on Sundays and my personal resurrected blog Critical Marginalia, each with slightly different features. The most noticeable is that Closed on Sundays contains the Snap Shots icon (which looks like a thought bubble) next to each link while Critical Marginalia does not. Also, Closed on Sundays requires you scroll directly over the icon specifically--allowing for a more directed, less accidental experience with Snap Shots--while Critical Marginalia allows a scroll over just the link, making Snap Shots more accessible, possibly to a fault.

Which do you like better? Do you like Snapshots at all? Feedback would be great! Thanks guys!

Our Ka'u Adventure!

Dave and Onaona's Ka'u Adventure album.

Ok, this post is a long time in coming. Dave and I took an adventure to Ka'u a few weeks ago and ever since, I've been trying to figure out a way to post a slide show of our adventures, rather than a series of pictures like I did for our "Thailand" adventure. Because blogger is affiliated with Picasa (and hence google) they require you use this software to embed a slideshow. Well, I wasn't too happy with the results and plus the template for this site is a little different from standard blogspot sites (which we changed to connect to davidguay.com), so embedding a slideshow wasn't all that easy. Instead, I decided to use a Flickr slideshow, accessed through Snapshot. Just scroll over the link, click on the pop-up and voila! I'm still experimenting with different media, so please bear with me, but in the meantime, enjoy a little into our adventure! And don't forget to click on the "i" for some "witty" captions!

Tuesdy the Cat

To our devoted fans:

Sorry. We've been busy and we've been lazy. You'd think with both of us unemployed we'd post more. Well, to quickly make up for our lack of noise in the face of time constraints, here is a video of Tuesdy...being a cat.

And a new song inspired by the Orange&Fuzzy:

Tuesdy the Cat
Is gettin' really fat
Whadda ya mean by that?
Its just my fur!

Dear KTA Parking Attendant Guy

You have changed my life. I just want to say thank you.

Until the other day, I thought I was a great driver. And if not a great driver, at least a great parker. And if not a great parker, at least I was confident that I could reverse out of a parking stall without banging another car.

But the other day, when I was reversing out of my parking stall after finishing my KTA shopping, and I saw you sprinting towards me as fast as you really couldn't, blaring on your whistle in that annoying JPO way, frantically waving at me to stop even though there were no cars reversing at the same time, no cars waiting for my spot, heck there weren't even any cars parked next to me, I knew I had a lot to learn.

Quickly, instinctively, I slammed on my brakes...otherwise I would have run you over, you were so intent on directing me from my stall that you almost walked into my moving car. From there, you proceeded to demandingly instruct me--with more frantic hand gestures and loud, shrill, stocatto whistles--to continue doing what I had been doing, and would most likely be done doing, had you not so abruptly stopped me.

At first I was irritated and insulted that you would think I couldn't reverse out of a parking stall unassisted. But just as I began to shift my little Nissan Sentra out of reverse and into first, I saw, not just a car, but a minivan, turn into the same parking row, and I thought to myself, "Thanks KTA Parking Attendant Guy. Who knows what would have happened if you weren't here?" (Absolutely nothing).

So heres to you, KTA Parking Attendant Guy, for reminding me and the rest of Hilo, that when its busy, we will never be good enough to reverse out of a KTA parking stall without the help of a KTA Parking Attendant Guy. (But when its not busy, can).

Oh well.

Admittedly, I've been a bit hesitant to post anything because the pressure is on. Dave's posts are good and funny, and theres no way my posts can compare--much in the same way that his humor sorely defeats mine in real life. But I'm a team player and this is supposed to be our blog, so I thought I just better post something.

But then I realized I can't.

Because its Sunday.

And we're closed.

Oh well.

Tan Line

I should wear shorts more often. Or not at all.

Making Coffee

On the first day of the Introduction to Psychology class I took freshman year of college, the professor promised he would teach us, among other things, techniques that would benefit our studies. As if to prove it, he took a Polaroid of each us and returned five days later knowing every one of our names. It was a class of 120 students. He taught four classes that semester. In retrospect, I might have been a better student if I hadn't skipped so much.

But anyway, one of the things he noted in lecture one day was how important environment is. The way things are interconnected within our brain adds importance to the context within which they are presented. Theoretically, if you study while listening to music, you will better recall the same information during your exam if you are listening to the same music. Which is unfortunate, since you cannot listen to music while taking an exam. Not only are sounds important, but all the senses - sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch. As I begin my daily studies at a local Starbucks I inevitably think, "Remember to get a grande dark roast before the exam."

The idea of environment also suggests that your morning coffee is not just a caffeine buzz. If you routinely start your day with eight ounces of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and one teaspoon of Coffeemate in your favorite Hello Kitty coffee mug, you just might be better off than if you don't. Of course, you might be even better still if you completely ween yourself off of coffee, eat healthy, exercise, and sleep eight hours every night. But that's not the point.

Anyway, imagine that for decades you've started a pot of coffee first thing in the morning. While it's brewing, you'd stroll out to the end of the driveway, and return with the newspaper. You would, as on any other day, enjoy both the coffee and the newspaper in your favorite lounge chair. But one day, just a couple months short of your 97th birthday, you wake up and walk to the kitchen. There, you see a coffee maker and you know you want coffee, but your Alzheimer's has stripped from you the ability to make it. You stare at the same coffee maker you've had since the 80s, and nothing.

Since then, only a few days ago, my grandfather has remembered how to make coffee. He made some for himself this morning. But I imagine it was a pretty helpless feeling that day. A, "Where am I?" sort of feeling. I imagine the newspaper felt different. And his favorite lounge chair.

These are things I never thought of when Alzheimer's was someone else's problem.

Anyway, tonight, I stopped by to visit him late, around 10:00. He was watching, "Watari, the Ninja Boy" on the Nihon Gold Network. It was awful. I presented a bowl to him and he recognized it immediately. Sitting in the chair just three feet from the television, he spooned away. Finishing the bowl slightly out of breath, he exclaimed his highest superlative. "Good!"

It was clear this was not the first time he had had chocolate ice cream - he knew exactly what to do with it.

Toilet Shopping (part 2)

Also, it's weird trying to explain to your grandmother what a bidet is.

Toilet Shopping

I went toilet shopping with Grandma yesterday. I don't understand how she convinced herself that she needs a new toilet to replace the one in the bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. Not only does the existing toilet work perfectly well, but she doesn't even use that one (she prefers the bathroom adjacent to the living room).

I had always heard that toilets can be expensive, but was pleasantly surprised to find that Home Depot sold one for about $50. It appeared really small, with a narrow bowl, but I'm sure it works the same as the ones at HPM. HPM, the local building supply store, had a range of toilets in a variety of styles. The boring white ones started at $250. There were also some fancy ones that weren't a part of the "Toilet Showcase" and were instead found in the model bathrooms found throughout the store. Those toilets started at $1000 and I found a couple for $1500.

I didn't have the time to really decipher how one toilet could be so cheap and another so expensive. Surely, more goes into it than what material the handle is made out of (some were gold-plated). But I'll figure that out another time. This time I was a bit antsy, because while I was reading the price and features of each toilet to Grandma, Grandpa had decided to wander around the store. And in my short time here, I've found that Grandpa doesn't care enough about any store to wander around, unless he needs to use the bathroom. And if you haven't picked up on where I'm going with this yet... I was in a toilet store. I was afraid that someone might find him in one of the model bathrooms testing out a $2000 toilet.

Naturally, my fears were assuaged when I heard his cane clacking out of the warehouse, where he used what was probably the employees' $50 toilet. And was surely, well satisfied.

Lamb and Hummos

I've always thought of older people as getting more and more set in their routines. As it were, Grandma does have her favorite brand of paper towels (Viva), and her favorite brand of napkins (Zee). She prefers the Kamuela tomatoes to the Hamakua ones and there is a particular vendor at the farmer's market who has the best papaya.

But that being said, I've been surprised at her excitement to try some new things. Or, new foods anyway. It was always the case that when my family would come to visit Hilo, we'd take out my Grandparents to their favorite Japanese restaurants. And now that they are 93 and 96 years old, and have been in this town for over 50 years, they just can't take it anymore. They've preferred the Thai food I've brought them on occasion, and relish the "American-style" foods I've cooked. Even when I've attempted Japanese food - fish with ponzu sauce and miso-glazed eggplant - they say, "It's not like any Japanese food I've had before, but it sure is tasty."

And that brings me to my first point. I am not surprised when people tell me that they've never had hummos before. For one, it's not that imbedded in the American culinary landscape. Also I guess, because I was once afraid to try it, I expect to see that in others. Grandma loves hummos. Incidentally, I introduced it to her as an accompaniment to another eggplant dish. She liked "the dressing," so I presented her the package and she started spooning it over everything - the sweet potato greens, the artichokes, the lamb... Which brings me to my second point.

While I'm not surprised when someone hasn't had hummos before, I'm shocked to hear that someone hasn't had lamb. I recognize that not everyone likes lamb, but for some reason, I at least expect everyone to have tried it. In Grandma's nearly 93.83 years, she's never had lamb. I nearly wet myself. I just couldn't believe it when she told me.

Boy, was she excited to try it for the first time. "Something in the kithcen smells real good! David's preparing another treat for us."

Boy, was it disappointing. Actually, it wasn't so bad, but she couldn't stop talking about the hummos. "How's your first lamb Grandma?" "Oh... Good... This hummos is really great. Where'd you hear about it?" Anyhow, what I was really impressed with was how proud she was that she had finally had lamb. "I've had plenty of opportunities but I've always passed it up. I'm glad I finally got to try it."

That was pretty cool.

(This is what lamb looks like before it is cooked.)

Dear Starbucks Guy,

First, I want to point out that I love your establishment. There's no place better to get a few hours of studying in. And you did a fantastic job freshly grinding and brewing that Pike Place Roast. It was delicious. The way you do your job is truly special.

But seriously, the whistling's got to stop. I know you're happy, and you love your job, but you are really, really bad at whistling. Like, the worst. Those sudden, random, high-pitched bursts are just not very musical. I don't know how you've made it through twenty-something years of your life without anyone telling you how bad you are. Other than that, you're doing a great job.

Grande coffee, please.

This is my wishing tree.

As in, I wish I had a wishing tree.



Like this one. Its beautiful.

"Thailand!"

Still feeling the wanderlust that enticed us to leave New York, Dave and I took a trip to "Thailand" this past weekend to see the world and just escape it all. "Thailand" is absolutely beautiful! We saw:

The worlds tallest palm tree



ONE spectacular waterfall (Dave is dubious about this descriptor):



Bizarre foliage:



and a water buffalo that looks amazingly like a cow named "Ted."



Dave even got to take a picture with a native! (it took a little bit of coaxing and even some tribal dancing to get him to cooperate; and even after offering him a copy of the picture, we still had to pay him five bananas!)



We had a great time in "Thailand" but are glad that we can finally cross it off our "pretend we've been there, but never actually done that" list. Next "stop:" "Scotland!" or "Middle Earth!"

Lack of Inspiration

I know lately we haven't been posting very often. It might sound romantic, but the covariance of two random variables just isn't as inspirational as you'd think. I've been flooded with upper and lower case sigmas, mus and the occasional phi. Apparently, x and y just isn't enough anymore. In order to learn probability theory, you also have to minor in Greek. Anyway, here's a picture to remind you that we're still Closed on Sundays.

3 down

Today is our 3 month anniversary here in Hawaii. When we realized we had already been here for three months, our conversation went something like this:

"Can you believe we've been here for three months?!"
"No way!"

Then we bought new t-shirts.

Cat Easter

A picture of Tuesdy and Dave retrieving paper balls from under the couch. We had a hunch that there may be a few under there; we had no idea there would be so many! Tuesdy was so excited he could hardly contain himself! It was like Cat Easter!


















Tim, on the other hand, could really care less about this sudden plethora of paper balls, despite all our efforts to entice him. In fact, after a dramatic eye-rolling and an exaggerated yawn, he resumed his wishful daydreaming of roaming the great outdoors. (I'm pretty sure I could hear him humming 'Part of your world.')

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today, March 31, 2008 is 65 years from the day of his birth. He is old. Legally.

At the ripe age of 65, he can talk loudly, walk slowly and set the thermostat either really high or really low. He can drive wrecklessly. If someone says something he doesn't like, he can pretend his hearing isn't what it used to be. He can show his appreciation for dinner by farting unabashedly (and probably in public). He can tell the same stories over and over again. He can do this and many other things he's already been doing for years.

Theoretically, he can retire. Although I suspect, it won't happen so easily. He's stubborn. He does what he does. Like any other year, he will invest heavily in a garden that rewards him with 600 asparagus spears and 3 tomatoes. He'll continue to send all three of his kids an e-mail every March that his Crocuses are starting to pop out of the ground, that Spring is officially here. The e-mail will be accompanied by 8 enormous jpegs of dirt. One week later, I'll get double prints in the mail of the same exact picture. It will be years before he stops telling me to "be careful" when I cross the street or go out for a drive. He'll ask me why I never read that book he gave me on the central banks and their influence on the local markets and the ways I can maximize my return in a shaky economy. He'll randomly send me an e-mail telling me about how the stars looked this one night in 1968, how it was also the night that some war started in Eastern Europe, and on a side note, Hillary Clinton is going to ruin this country and Stouffer's Lasagna is delicious. I'll visit him in Connecticut and he'll give me $40 for the same large pizza that has cost $15 all these years. He'll probably also get choked up and shed a few tears while remembering my mother.

I can't say I've always agreed with the way he's done his job all these years. But he was my father the best way he could. He told me recently that he's proud of me. For every year we get older and I become less embarassed of my father, I am more proud of him and the job he's done. I wish him a happy birthday.

To market, to market, to buy musubi.

The Hilo Farmers Market is by far the best place to get produce in this town. Prices are significantly cheaper than any supermarket here, and quality is much better. The crowds can be very heavy on Wednesdays or Saturdays so its best to go early in the morning; too late in the afternoon and the best vendors are gone.

When the stars are in perfect alignment, and we haven't stayed up late the night before theorizing about LOST, Dave and I like to arrive early with our coffee and recycled KTA bags in hand, mosey a quick lap around to check out the wares, then hit the papaya lady, the banana lady, and the pineapple guy (not literally), pick up some spinach, green onions and bell peppers when needed, and head to the back of the tent for an assortment of musubis! Dave was in heaven when he found this table! Actually, so was I, but not for their musubis. They make the best coscoran, a delicious compliment to morning coffee.

Grandpa Would Rather Be Watching TV

Scared

I did it.

I know people have different ways with which to conquer their fears. Public speakers will picture their audience naked. Some people vomit. Jack Shepard, on ABC's Lost, stops, allows himself to be scared for a count to five, and then goes on.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and imagine myself accomplishing the task at hand. Sometimes, I'll only need to tell myself it'll all be over soon.

Anyway, it was tough, but I've trimmed Grandma's toenails, and I probably won't have to do it again for another couple weeks.

It was awful.

Back by popular demand!

Here is one more video of Laakolu, taped while he was still in the hospital, making him almost one day old!! He needs no introduction, so without further ado...

Last Week

Laakolu is here! We were out at Kozmic Cones when it happened. Onaona, Kawehena and I had been at the hospital all day and left for a short lunch break, since it didn't look like the labor was going anywhere for a while. We returned to find out the baby had been born while we were gone. My double burger was so-so.

The baby arrived with gusto. After building up the suspense for an extra couple days, he almost literally popped out in a "fastest ever" 10-minute birth. He immediately opened his eyes, looked around, and made plans with his father to go cliff-diving next weekend.

Also this week:
-Onaona and I had to entertain a 9-year old and a 5-year old for a large chunk of a five-day period. It was exhausting. We are no longer planning to have kids. We are going to have cats instead.
-We had a big family dinner celebrating Onaona's Mom's birthday. There was ten pounds of meatloaf.
-I turned 29 on the same day my grandparents celebrated their 68th anniversary. Grandpa said, "Oh. It's been a long time."

Nahum 2: The Second Coming

On March 17, 2008 at 3.53pm Nahum La'akoluakaumuali'i Miller arrived weighing 7lbs 1/2oz and measuring 18.75". He is too cute for words, which is great cause I'm too tired to write anything else. Nahum I wasted no time in getting up-close and personal with him. More pics to follow.

Ke-LOOOOOOOOOO-La!

On December 30, 2007, Keolapono Keiichi Maeda was born to my sister, Anuhea, and her husband, Darren. Like all babies, he was a tiny little thing when he was born, but now he is a Chubuta!! (thats my word for chubby baby). And man is he cute! He stays awake more often now, and surprisingly eats less, and is finally becoming fun to play with. :) And he loves when Aunty plays hairscapades with him! He makes a funny little noise, which we've decided is his attempt to laugh. If you listen closely to the video below you can hear his little giggle, which sounds like a bunch of quick hiccups.

Within the next week he will be joined by his cousin, Laakolu, also already known as Nahum 2: The Second Coming. The next few months promise lots of adventures!