The Purloined Mayo

I have heard that while men can be quite capable in many ways, it has been scientifically proven that the man who can find the mayonnaise in the fridge has not yet been born, so I decided to do an experiment while I was making lunch. I was feeling a bit twiggy, having had oral surgery last week and not yet able to eat normal food, so while I was making some dull soup for me, he had requested a sandwich. Maybe that tweaked my spite nerve.

“Rochi, could you get me some green onions from the garden?”

Success! OK, he’s listening. My hopes kindled.

“Could you get the mayo for me, please?” I asked, with as much innocence as I could muster.

“Japanese or American?” he asked. My hopes rose.

“It’s your sandwich, so your choice,” I said, rather diplomatically.

And then I waited. And waited.

He searched high.

He searched low.

But nary a jar of mayonnaise, oriental or occidental, could he procure.

With renewed faith in science, I reached for the fateful jar, cleverly hidden in plain sight in the door of the fridge, where it has been kept since time immemorial.

I promise not to gloat.

Well, maybe a little.

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Witness

As much as I believe in the power of gratitude to bring happiness and well-being, it’s sometimes hard to find things to be grateful for as the pandemic drags its weary heels into yet another month of stagnation and isolation. But once in a while there is a shining beacon of light that brings me joy.

Case in point: In yesterday’s mail there was a plain, white envelope addressed to our Ohana (family). The return address was a PO box. I was intrigued but figured it was just another doctor bill in disguise.

I opened the envelope to discover a letter, hand written on pretty Hawaiian paper, with an invitation to join a Jehovah’s Witness Easter Zoom event ‘that will be attended by millions of people earthwide.’

I won’t go into how offensive I find that given the current state of the earth’s health, on so many levels and in so many ways.

But instead of focusing on resentment and self-righteousness, I broke into paroxysms of giggles, realizing that the sweetly smiling ladies dressed in their Sunday best can not knock on my door to bring me ‘good news’ because of Covid. And for that I am profoundly grateful.

Day 7: That Aha Moment

Having gone backstage to share a little pre-show love with the kids in our former group, I was shivering in the auditorium at the university waiting for the Big Island Taiko Festival to begin. Suddenly, I remembered why I had set myself a post-a-day challenge.

A week ago, I had a lovely chat with one of my besties back in Tokyo and he asked me what I’ve been up to here, what my typical day is like. I was flummoxed, not sure what ‘typical’ might even mean. Each day is different. Almost every day there is a new first, be it a new view, a new sound, a new taste or a new face. So far, at least, there’s been an almost mystical balance between being busy and stressed and allowing myself to relax into the beauty and serenity of this little corner of the world.

This Week

As the lights went down and the curtain went up, I was overwhelmed with a sense of happiness and gratitude, literally moved to tears by the awareness of how lucky I am and how sure I am that turning our lives upside down and moving here was the right thing to do.

The challenge was to look at a week and see what happens and decide whether or not it is typical. I have determined that the answer is yes. It was a typical week, in all of its odd bumps and bounty, it was typical. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Benza

I had a lovely video chat with my dear friend Chris in Tokyo this week. If you have Amazon Prime, please check out The Benza, like it, comment, write a review, be supportive. It’s a collaboration, but Chris’ brainchild and he’s busted his tail to make the series happen and get it noticed, plus it’s very funny, both silly and smart. Bonus: If you look closely, you will see my name in the credits.

While we were talking, Chris asked me what a typical day is like here in paradise and I realized that there’s no such thing. My general rule is yoga and/or power walking on the lanai in the morning but after that Bob’s your uncle. So I have set myself a challenge to write something about some of the extraordinary things that happen here each day this week. Wish me luck!