Yellow Ball of Thermonuclear Goodness

I grew up in Ewa Beach. It is part of the vast Ewa plain on he island of Oahu, in the state of Hawaii. It's called the Ewa plain and not the Ewa fabulous for a reason. Still, it is home. I am not talking about the sprawl of suburbia urban-jungle-creep that people associate these days with Ewa Beach, i am talking about a time when you made it clear you were from Ewa or Ewa Beach.

Where your world boundary was defined by that blue sign, Welcome to Ewa Beach.

Back then, there was one road cutting through the seemingly endless cane fields. One lane in, one lane out. One stop light. One Silvas. A canal, the park, the bowling alley, and the beach.

Everyone knew everyone else. I'm pretty sure the crime rate was low if non existent. You didn't have to lock your doors. Your neighbors were always friendly, and willing to help out. You always got fed if you were visiting, and did in kind if someone showed up.

Everyone was looking out for everyone else. It was small town America ala Norman Rockwell, done up Hawaiian style.

Did i mention the brutally brutal brutality that is the Ewa Beach summer? No? Remind me sometime.

In Yamhill there is no Silvas', there is the T&E. There is no single proper stoplight, there is a blinking red caution at the four way. In Yamhill, there is no bowling alley, there is Zippy's.

There is however, that same small town feel that's just like home. Aloha ? In Yamhill? Of course.

The sun beat down upon our little farm in Yamhill yesterday. With Aztec God-like anger, the big yellow ball sent fiery rays that wilted people, horses and weeds. In a freakish bout of weather, the mercury soared to 89 degrees F. I was waiting for the mokes in boardshorts and the tradewinds, sadly they never made it. We are talking shorts, no shirt weather people! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

i'll take my shave ice blue and red, thank you.

The neighbors were doing yard work.

Then the neighbors came to do our yard work. That is correct, our yard work. No one asked. They just did.

With a John Deere Tractor. A John fucking Deere TRACTOR. With front end loader and mower attachment! No cup holder though- are you taking notes, John Deere RD? Could you offer it in Corsa Rosso with Scuderia badges as well? Thanks! Mahalo!

Beers were shared over aforementioned implement of husbandry. I was amazed. I was humbled. We were thankful.


Remember Ewa Beach? Yamhill is just like it. There is Aloha in Yamhill, no doubt in my mind at all.