Waikiki? Waiki-not?

Earlier last week, I had planned on writing a fairly somber piece on the cumulative effects of depression (not caused by Valentine's day, but perhaps exacerbated by it). But having just returned from Honolulu, that would be pretty brazen of me to talk about depression, don't you think? So here's another fluffy entry with pretty pictures and no substance, not unlike People Magazine. Oh, and I already forgot to bring the damned stuff dog with me.

The highlights:
1. Flew first class both ways, drank whiskey, and became teary eyed watching Mr. Maggorium's Wonder Emporium. For those of you who have not seen the movie, it's a beautiful story that teaches you to believe in yourself.
2. Watched Art in Motion, a live performance of a Hawaiian guy spray painting scenes of the beach while dancing and lip syncing along to crappy techno and Christian rock. Waikiki is filled with street performers. There was one guy who had a little karaoke machine and was singing Air Supply... a group of Japanese tourists found his karaoke to be embarrassing, even by their standards. And there was a chick hula hooping with a ring of fire. I did not stay to see the whole show, because after the initial awe of seeing someone hula hooping with fire, it's really just watching someone hula hooping and there's a reason that fad died out. I couldn't watch some apply a snap bracelet with fire for hours either.
3. Have you ever seen products with ridiculous warning labels like Superman costumes that say "Costume does not give wearer power of flight?" Do you ever wonder who is stupid enough to require these warning labels? I'm that person. While wading in the ocean, I kept sticking my hand into rock crevices, trying to catch crabs, assuming that if there was anything dangerous in the Pacific Ocean, they'd put up a sign to warn me. Saw the jaws of an eel in one of the cracks I had just put my hand through. I still have all my fingers thankfully.


4. Drank $1.50 Mai Tais and ate eggs benedict with a side of fried rice at 10 am because a moose with sunglasses told me to go to his restaurant. I'm not one to argue with moose.








5. After drinking several of the aforementioned Mai Tais, I crashed a ukulele lesson of about 30 people, mostly elderly. When the instructor asked if anyone wanted to play a solo, I raised my hand. She said, "who are you?" I said "armin" and began to play a spirited, if not off key, rendition of Buddy Holly's "Oh Boy!" None of the elderly ladies recognized the song. Thankfully, I did not play Marilyn Manson or Avril Lavigne, because if Buddy Holly is too contemporary for them, I doubt they'd have "Sk8er Boi" on their IPOD shuffle.