Tainted*

Let me set the stage.

I work on a client in the District. When I'm thirsty for a refreshing glass of water, I have two options: (1) Risk drinking DC tap water from one of the many drinking fountains, or (2) Pay dues to become a member of the Water Club. I chose the latter. As a member of the Water Club, I have unlimited access to a water cooler filled with fresh, clean, non-DC, filtered water. It is worth the $5 monthly dues to know that every sip I take does not come fortified with minerals, such as lead and rocket fuel.

Well, since I have been traveling for work and not physically present at said client, I was not able to pay July dues for the Water Club. Upon returning to the client this week, as the temperature climbed near 100-degrees, the Water Club Manager was not around to collect the dues, so I was not permitted to drink from the cooler. I figured I would make due and resort to other beverages to get me through the week. Everything went as planned, until yesterday. I was dying for a glass of water. And not a 16.9 oz bottle, I wanted to fill my entire 32 oz Nalgene.

I had quite the dilemma on my hands. I could not risk drinking from the Club's water cooler if I had not paid my monthly dues. But could I really risk drinking from the DC water fountain? Wellllll, I decided to throw in the towel and go for it. I headed over to the nearby fountain and topped off my 32 oz bottle. Then, I added a little Green Tea To Go mixture to mask the taste, and I was good to go.

As I gulped down the last drop, I knew it was worth the risk.

Until I picked up the Express this morning. On the front page, staring right back at me:

Mumu*

Before I left for vacation, several coworkers said, “Make sure you relax while you are gone”. Friends told me to “get some rest”.

When I arrived in Hawaii, in addition to “aloha”, people here have also told me to “hang loose”. Fortunately, the national dress of Hawaii is very conducive to hanging loose. I’m not talking about bikini’s, mini-skirts, or shorts and t-shirts… I’m talking about the ultimate outfit in relaxation… the mumu.

Made of approximately 7 yards of fabric that has the consistency of a shopping bag, the mumu’s "size" is primarily determined by how big the neck hole is. Brightly colored, the mumu screams “I am relaxing” or, “I am wearing a tent”.

After receiving a nasty sunburn (I blame Sheila for the incorrect application of the SPF 50), I decided that I really needed clothes that would really allow me to relax, but not necessarily touch my body. My mom got into the act as well, and we decided that we needed to buy some mumu’s to start the vacation off right.

We headed over to the Honolulu International Market Place where you can buy anything imaginable as long as it is Hawaiian print. One of the first stands that we came across was Larry’s. Larry had mumu’s as far as the eye could see and was very keen on putting the two of us in mumu’s.

Part of his sales approach was flattery. To me he said, “Oh, you need a medium mumu. You’re very sexy”, to which I replied, “Keep in clean Larry, my mom is right here”. Anyway, while I was selecting the perfect color, my mom drove a hard bargain, making sure that Larry gave us a fair price as Larry stammered his apologies for making inappropriate comments about her eldest daughter.

After a few short minutes, cash changed hands, and my mom and I are the proud owners of hot pink mumu’s. The mumu is really the ideal outfit - with the consistency of a shopping bag, anything you spill just tends of roll off of the fabric. They are lightweight and airy. They are perfect for even the most conservative dresser, as they leave lots to the imagination, showing only a teeny bit of leg, which drives the guys like Larry wild. My Dad and sister are ashamed to be seen with us in public, but I am pretty sure that their crankiness is a result of clothing which is too constrictive.

The more I think about it, the mumu would really be perfect for DC. As a whole, the city dresses rather conservatively and is sweltering hot in the summer. So really, what we need is an urban outfit that keeps you cool and doesn’t reveal much skin… perhaps the Urban Mumu?

1941*

There aren't many people around who still remember where they were on December 7, 1941, because most of us weren't alive back then. But, in the words of FDR, it was a day that will live in infamy. That's right, December 7, 1941 is when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, starting the United States involvement in World War II. Until 2001, it was the only attack on the US in modern history.

Yesterday, we headed out to Pearl Harbor to visit the monument. The National Park service has a short video showing some old timey footage and then the Navy ferry you out to the harbor where the monument is located.

That's right, a ferry. The monument isn't accessible via land. The National Park Service and the Navy run ferries out so that people can visit the monument. Tickets are restricted, so only a mere 3,000 people a day are allowed to visit the actual sight.

Now you may be asking yourself, "why is the monument in the middle of the harbor?". It turns out that the monument is actually built on the sunken USS Arizona, one of the biggest battle ships to go down in the attack. So, as you are out walking around the monument, you can look down into the water and see the battleship. The flag flying over the monument is actually on the mast of the sunken ship.

Now, living in DC for the past four years, I've visited many a monument. Some may even go as far as to say that I am a monument snob, and I wouldn't argue with them. In my humble opinion, as far as National Monuments go, Pearl Harbor is one of the most striking, because unlike the monuments in DC which are manufactured to commemorate history, this monument was built because history actually occurred there.

Aloha*

Greetings from Oahu, Hawai'i. Yes, that's right, my immediate family is taking a vacation to Mom and Dad's timeshare in Hawaii for the next week. I arrived yesterday, and I have a few reflections as I am wrapping up my first 24 hours in one of the most remote states. We had to fill out customs forms saying we weren't bringing outside fruit into the state (I am not making this up). That's how remote it is.

Upon arriving in Honolulu International Airport, I learned the following things:

1. The orchid lei's you see/ hear about that they put around your neck when you arrive make you break out into hives
2. And secondly, most importantly, "aloha". Aloha is a term that technically means "Hello" and "Goodbye". It also is used in a more general sense to convey "You are now in Hawaii". Just in case you happen to repress the fourteen hours of travel that it took you to get here, which involved a never ending flight from Houston and a screaming child which at some point caused me to lean over to my co-passenger and say "I don't remember my existence before I got on this plane" to which he frantically whispered back "I think we were in Houston", there it is "Aloha".

For example, today, we took the bus passing the Aloha Saturn car dealership, crossing Aloha Drive, navigating between the cars whose plates say "the Aloha State", zipping past Aloha Elementary, and arriving at Aloha Stadium to take place in the biweekly Aloha Swap.

After an afternoon of shopping, we had lunch at Wakiki Burgers, and in keeping with the way that life is in the Aloha State, I had an Aloha Mai Tai and chowed down on an Aloha Burger.

*This is the first vacation that I've taken with my immediately family since 2001. Aloha is soon going to mean "Hurry up, I need to get in the bathroom"