The 6:30 AM bus from Kupuna Loop was packed, standing room only for 20 or so people on the Waipahu local route #434. Contributing to the crowd were numerous kids heading to school. I’m not sure how the city bus fits into the overall scheme of getting kids to school, versus the traditional yellow school buses. Are regular buses part of the city plan, or do folks just do it for convenience? Maybe some of it has to do with getting kids to schools other than their local school. Not sure.
No biggie though. I only had to stand on the bus for 10 minutes before getting off on Paiwa Street for the transfer to the downtown express bus. I waited for the “E Express Waikiki” bus scheduled to be there at 6:48. By 6:55 I was getting anxious about the fate of the E Express Waikiki bus, so when the “A Express Downtown” rolled up to the bus stop, I jumped on. This should get me in the neighborhood for a Windward transfer bus. I’ll figure it out enroute.
In fact, the Downtown Express set me up well to get off in town near Bishop Street and transfer to the #55 route bus to Kaneohe. The only memorable part of the transfer to the new bus was watching some guy onload his bike onto the bus’s front rack while he was grappling with some Pop-Tarts. A Pop Tart was hanging out his mouth, and he was holding an extra-large box of Pop-Tarts in one hand while simultaneously wrestling his bike onto the rack directly in front of the front bus windshield. It was a minor spectacle for those of us in the front of the bus, as well as the driver who was seeing it up close and personal. There was a lot of bike wrestling going on, and it seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. I, for one, was amused. Boy, I thought, this guy really likes Pop-Tarts.
As we rolled across the Pali Highway, I pulled out a book I had just started reading, a memoir by Jeff Tweedy titled Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back). Jeff Tweedy is the front man and primary song writer for the band Wilco, and before that for the band Uncle Tupelo. I always liked those bands, and I also enjoyed Jeff Tweedy in a solo show at the Hawaii Theater when he performed there in 2011.
Early in the book, Jeff talks about the influence of music when he was growing up, especially being drawn to non-mainstream music. To some extent, I remember growing up the same way. I remember showing up as a 17-year-old college freshman in 1974, a Connecticut kid going to school in South Carolina. One of the few albums I brought with me was David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane, one of my favorites at the time, but not one of the more common albums on campus. I was a David Bowie fan then and up until his death last year. That’s why, reading it on the bus to Kaneohe, this snippet from page 29 of Jeff Tweedy’s book particularly struck me:
“When David Bowie died, I read a lot of beautiful tributes to him with the consistent theme that his work acted as an affirmation of worth to so many people who felt like oddballs and misfits. Through him they gained the strength to be themselves and, not only that, to be proud of who they are. I’ve always related to that on a very inward level. I’m a pretty normal-looking straight white dude with all of the general societal acceptance that status entails, and yet I am still grateful to have found some encouragement to resist conformity in the way I look at and think about the world.”
I thought about these words and Jeff Tweedy and Wilco as I nodded off on the bus, rolling across the Koolau mountains.
I got off the bus on Kamehameha Highway, at the top of the hill leading into Kaneohe. Next to the bus stop was the Hawaiian Memorial Park Cemetery. I’d driven by it many times, but never went into it before. And I’d never fully considered the name. I always thought of it as a cemetery, and hadn’t really thought about the “Park” part of the name. Is there a difference between a “cemetery” and a “park cemetery?”
I walked into the cemetery entrance and was impressed with the well-attended grounds, and the panoramic view of Kaneohe town and Kaneohe Bay. It was surprising to see that so many of the grave sites were adorned with fresh flowers. It smelled good in the cloudy coolness of the morning. Very peaceful. But I didn’t see any picnic tables or barbecue grills, or public restrooms, so I think it’s a stretch to call it a park.
My plan was to stroll downhill on Kam Highway for a couple of miles, this being the closest thing to a main drag that Kaneohe could muster. Again, I’d driven this stretch of road several times, but this was my first time walking, which allowed for closer inspection.
After the cemetery, the road hosted alternating sections of housing areas and commercial areas. To the left, the background was dominated by the towering Koolau mountains, to the right was Kaneohe Bay. Definitely a scenic stroll, especially the top part of the road, where you could really see the views. First were a few blocks of residential housing, older houses on Kam Highway itself, and older neighborhoods in the roads shooting off to the left. There were a few wild-looking houses on Kam Highway itself, elevated properties accessed with steep driveways.
While waiting for a crosswalk light to change on Kam Highway, an older fellow approached the corner where I was waiting. He had just cut across a small patch of long grass and was putting his phone back in his pocket when suddenly an old truck stopped in the middle of making a right turn off of Kam Highway. Out of the truck popped a stoutly built local-looking gal in work clothes , yelling “Hey Mister” as she strode toward the corner where we stood. She reached down into the long grass and plucked up a wallet, waving it in the air and saying, “Hey, I see you drop this.” The old guy hustled back to her and grabbed the wallet and said thank you. “You careful now,” she said, then jumped back in her truck and sped off.
When she had stopped, she backed up traffic for people trying to make the same right turn, but nobody honked a horn. They, like me, were witnessing an authentic good deed in progress. The old man explained that he kept his wallet and phone in the same pocket, and must have lost the wallet when he was pulling out his phone. Wallet and phone in same pocket, I thought….is this man insane? At any rate, that gal was a hero, and I wish her all the best. She just jumped out of the truck, did her good deed, and then jumped back in the truck and was gone in a flash. Who was that mystery woman? It would have been nice if she had like a shiny cape or a thin black mask on, or some other bit of superhero garb. Regardless, it was still a cool scene.
When I finally got to Windward Mall I figured that was far enough. This was the shopping hub of Kaneohe. On one side of the street was the Windward Mall, and on the other side was Kaneohe Bay Shopping Center. If I liked shopping, I might have been more excited; but since I don’t, I wasn’t. I’d never been in Windward Mall, so I decided to head in there. Bound to be a nice place to sit down and relax a bit.
The Mall opened at 10:00 and the time was 9:50, so I waited by the Macy’s entrance with two old ladies and a teenager that looked like he should have been in school. At 10:00 the doors opened and I began trekking the walkways of the Windward Mall. Hey, this place has an actual operating Sears store, as well as a Neon Glow Putt-Putt course with hippy black lights. I wonder if they let old men ride the choo choo train alone? I’m not proud, looks fun, but I don’t want to start a stranger-danger riot, so I beg off.
After checking out the mall and cooling my heels for a bit, I headed out to catch the 11:30 bus back into Honolulu. The bus stop outside the Mall was being occupied by a homeless (I guess) lady with her meager belongings and two small dogs. She was squatting there when I headed into the Mall over an hour ago, and here she was still, so I doubt she’s waiting for a bus. When another lady walked her dog past by the bus stop, she knowingly greeted the homeless lady, amidst all the dogs barking. I guess she’s a regular there at that bus stop. Luckily there was another bench nearby, so I sat there and ate my sandwich while I waited for the bus.
The 11:30 bus for town was on time and not crowded. I had 30 minutes to kill in town before catching a 12:40 to Waipahu. In Waipahu, I transferred to the local #434 shuttle, then got off on Kupuna Loop for the walk home. I arrived home at 2:00 PM, exactly eight hours after departing on foot at 6:00 AM that morning. A solid 8-hour day. Almost liking working, but not quite. Life is good.
Waipahu Bob 