NEW DEAL

“Eastern Paradise” serves the best fried rice in the city an authentic Chinese menu

It is raining. The streets are shiny black. The reflections move upon the asphalt surface

like ghosts. We are sitting in the corner booth in a small restaurant along King Street in Metro Honolulu. All eyes are upon us. There is something elevating about being in the company of a beautiful woman. Even other women take notice. The mere fact that beauty is paying attention to me is empowering. There is no music—just the pleasant aroma of food being prepared. I peer out the window. Actually it is the uncovered portion above the white lace curtain, which is drenched in pouring rain. A flock of colorful birds fill this space in a flying art form. The food is brought to our table in small bowls, atop larger, oval-shaped plates accompanied by chop sticks and silence. English is seldom spoken here.  Now I hear the music. The pretty woman speaks: The greed in man is great—even his thoughts and desires are consumed with power and pride, and he is always demanding more, while being pursued by un-resting death—is that a complete sentence? The pretty woman asked.

I look into her face. It is a face stark with beauty, with bright brown eyes, and sparkling white teeth, but at the corner of her mouth a small bit of sadness lingers. I smile. Speak on, I demand: It’s a new deal. The fix is everywhere and within everything. I now believe like a homeless person, a financial crippled, or a servant who is not allowed to speak; while the rich get richer and the poor and the poorer get the picture.  Those of us in the middle are at risk of being disenfranchised—finally the center understands the new deal, and that our government is a set up, Wall Street is a metonym and Madison Avenue is a marketing concept that no rational middle minded, self educated, moral being can explain. I know now that being afraid is a commitment to cowardice. But how can I stand upon ideas when negative forces travel ten times faster than positive force.

 I reach across the table and take her hand into mine and say that everybody needs somebody to love and to believe in them—speak on: Is life deceiving us, or teaching us? Or will I pass this way not knowing if life was a succession of little things or bigger schemes, or was it just another dream?

 

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Kapiolani Park

The following story is true. No names were changed because the innocent are protected.

Located at the foot of Diamond Head Crater in the east end of Waikiki is the largest and oldest public park in the state of Hawaii.  Kapiolani Park consists of 300 acres of moderately wooded, gently undulating land of indescribable beauty flanked by the Honolulu Zoo, an endless turquoise sea and an elliptical field of dreams.

This is where the story begins – and ends.  It’s late on a Sunday afternoon and the park is vibrating;  soccer, cricket, football, families cooking, children’s laughter, young men lying and looking at young women reclining, bathing in the sun, ukuleles strumming, and resident birds and dragon flies just flying

Jaden is in the fourth grade.  His favorite thing is playing football and doing exactly as he pleases – spontaneously.  This is the place for spontaneity and gazing into the clouds or rolling atop the thick lawns, seemingly insect free, with zebras in cages nearby.

Grandfather is a young sixty-five. Jaden is a precocious nine, however, he is big for his age. Jaden challenges his grandfather to a foot race. Suddenly, man and boy dash off as if a starter’s pistol exploded. The old man is just a little faster. He is outrunning the kid when Jaden suddenly tackles his grand father and the two of them tumble onto the grass in a jumble of arms, legs and laughter.

“It’s all about what is in the heart grandpa,” Jaden says. “No little champion it is about the speed in the feet,” the old man admonishes.

Jaden grabs the football, and flings it high and hard. For a brief moment the spinning ball seems to eclipse the meaning of time as it spirals through the aromatic air and then is pulled back to earth. The old man catches the ball in one large hand and does his “Prime Time” impression as the boy mocks him with his own end zone dance and more laughter.

Nearby, the old man’s daughter shouts from the car: “Do you want me to lock it?” The old man automatically pats his pockets making certain he has the car keys, and to his surprise, realizes his pockets are empty. “I’ve lost my keys!” He says aloud.

“You lost the keys grandpa?” Jaden asks.

“Yes—yes! I can’t find the car keys.”

“Where did you lose them?” His daughter asks.

“I think when Jaden tackled me the keys must have fallen out.” At that moment the three of them returned to the scene of the crime where Jaden had tackled him. They got down on their hands and knees and began to pat the ground because with grass so lush and thick car keys could hide anywhere.

At that moment a man with an eye-patch was walking nearby with his dog. He was about the same age as grandpa. “What are you doing,” he asked?”

“We have lost our car keys.”

“Well then,” he said, “you should take off your shoes because in grass this thick the feet become eyes.” At that moment everyone took off their shoes and allowed their feet to feel the grass. The old man had a large reddish dog with him, but only the dog had two good eyes and the old man also removed his shoes.

Within seconds another person, a younger, very large, man with his teenage daughter asked grandfather. “What are you looking for?”

 “We have lost our car keys.”

“And I have lost my home—actually I am houseless,” he said. The big man then smiled. “Listen if we form a line and move in mass we can cover more ground,” he said. Quickly, they formed a line—shoulder to shoulder. The one-eyed man and his dog, the houseless man and his teenage daughter, grandpa, his daughter and of course Jaden made an arrow straight line and searched the spot beneath the tree, and all around the tree. They searched with their heads down, their shoes off and their eyes wide open. Each one committed to the moment. It was as if their initiative had sparked a flame and turned the flame into momentum.

Nearby other people in the park seeing the guide dog, the one-eyed man, the giant and the children all with their shoes off and their heads down instantly joined them in exponential expression. Suddenly, there were twenty people searching, and then thirty people with their shoes off moving in right angles and concentric circles in search of the key. “I found it!” Jaden screams. “I found it…I’ve found the keys.” The park erupted with enthusiasm. A cheer went up as if 30 minors had been rescued from a caved in mine shaft, or bawling babies had been saved from a burning building. Thirty strangers were cheering, giving high fives and hugs. It was an unexpected and unforeseeable moment within the moment like faith within victory. At the vertex of that moment Jaden whispered to his grandfather. “The keys were in the front seat of the car all the time, but it doesn’t matter because it’s all about what is in the heart grandpa.”

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