Asshole buddies

      I try to learn something new every day, and the other day, I learned what an asshole buddy is. Typically, I’ll make a conscious decision about what I want to learn, as a few examples, last week, I brushed up on my knot tying skills or wrote for a prescribed period of time every day. Sometimes, I cheat a little by watching YouTube How It’s Made channel and chalk that up as what I’ve learned for the day. Go ahead, watch the one about how hot dogs are made and then let me know if you ever have one again. Other days, I’ll read some of the classics - I’m currently enjoying Guy de Maupassant’s complete short stories. I’ve explored how Bhutan measures GNH (Gross National Happiness), I’m also listening to a podcast that describes the personality and legacy of each of the 45 presidents, I’m up to William Henry Harrison now - that one should be pretty short. But a few days ago, completely by chance, I learned about asshole buddies.
     I’m in Santa Barbara, visiting my parents and we were chatting late in the afternoon about anything and everything.

The man, the myth, the legend, my dad

Then my dad said, “Let me tell you how the guys I lawn bowl with became my asshole buddies.” That got my attention. “Wait - what is an asshole buddy?” My dad seemed surprised I didn’t know what an asshole buddy was and then my mom chimed in and asked, incredulously, “You don’t know what an asshole buddy is?” I swear, this conversation actually happened. I said this is the first time in my life I’ve ever heard the term. My mom said my dad used the phrase all the time, he countered by saying he rarely used it, but it was common Philadelphia slang (where they’re both originally from) and it means you’re really good friends. So we quickly FaceTimed brother Ed for validation. I asked him to give me a thumbs up/thumbs down and posed the question - have you ever heard of an ‘asshole buddy’? He John McCain’ed it perfectly with a slow thumbs down in front of the camera and asked what was going on. I explained the context and then we had some follow on questions about just what an asshole buddy is and isn’t. Some of the questions asked were how does one become an asshole buddy? Do both parties know they are asshole buddies? Do you have to ask someone to be your asshole buddy? At that point, Ed leaned into the camera and seductively whispered, “Will you be my asshole buddy? Is that how it works?” As you may imagine, there was uncontrollable laughter during the discussion. My dad said that blood relatives could not be asshole buddies (really, there’s seems to be some codification on who can and can’t be asshole buddies). I asked him if male/female friends could be asshole buddies, he paused for a moment and then gave a terse ‘no’. I said I thought that was a very, very good call. Cue more laughter.
     The uncontrollable mirth down after a while, but still got an occasional chuckle from me just at the thought of the whole exchange. Later that night at dinner, we were talking about my upcoming trip to Thailand/Malaysia and who knows where else to get an annual physical, dermatologist visit and my 60th birthday colonoscopy. I said, “Hey, do you know who’s going to do my colonoscopy at Bumrungrad Hospital?” They said, “No, who?”  I said... “My asshole buddy.” That was an inaccurate use of my newly learned vocabulary, but we all thought it was pretty funny. 

Alex

     You get what you pay for in general and on Maui? Maybe even more so. My daughter has lived there for 10 years and I just visited her and my brother. She's become a part of the community because she's way more FOMO than I am, and it was so gratifying to see her run into people no matter where we were who she knew, hugs, kisses and this is my dad, he’s just here visiting, blah, blah, blah. Because Maui is not cheap and she’s been mostly in roommate situations, she lives in a crappy neighborhood. If any tourist ever got to the end of the road where she lives, it was by complete accident. So she's been looking for another place to live on Maui, and she answered a Craigslist ad...from Alex. Alex was a huckster of the first degree. He was trying to rent out two 'Ohana' units in upcountry Maui for $950/ mo each. Maui can be a lovely place to visit, but it’s not an easy place to live if you’re working there. If you can find an Ohana for $950 in upcountry Maui, you don't need the type of flowery prose Alex employed or pictures that were not representative of the bed spaces he was advertising, that Ohana will sell itself. Quickly.  Here’s the ad: https://honolulu.craigslist.org/mau/apa/d/pukalani-peaceful-ohana-in-kula-for/7068464609.html

Part of the main house. Where you can't go when his daughter is there. 

     So Ed, Celine and I made an appointment to take a look see because we like pretty pictures and flowery prose too. Yeah. Not as advertised. Alex had a shaved head, waxed mustache, square plastic rimmed glasses and gesticulated wildly as he was describing 'the possibilities' of where an outdoor kitchen might be, or where he could set up the ping pong table, if his daughter wasn't staying in the main house. Right. If his daughter wasn't there, then you could visit the main house, if she was there, then it was verboten. He took us through the property, and said some unusual things. “Look up! Not at the stars (it was about 2:45 pm, the only star visible was the sun), which are beautiful, but look up at the avocado tree! The tree knows when the avocados are ripe and that makes them taste like nothing you’ve ever tasted." Oh Alex. The avocado tree was situated directly above the the detached Ohana. The ripe avocados would have plummeted down in the middle of the night with a thundering BOOOOOOM on the roof of the tiny house like structure that would have raised the dead. Side note: I’ve had avocados that were picked un ripe and avo’s that dropped from the tree. I couldn’t tell the difference. Maybe he could. But he was special.
     You get what you pay for. I remember in my misguided youth after a fairly feral month in Sumatra I ended up in Singapore. I was looking for a knock off Walkman. Google it millennials, and yes, that's how old I am. I was in some mall and asked the proprietor of Indian descent if I could listen to the device before I plunked down my $10, he said with a disapproving wag of the head, "Baba, if you pay $10, you are going to get $10 quality." If you answer ad for an Ohana in upcountry Maui for $950 that ends with: Mahalo, have a beautiful day, and may the Universe smile kindly upon you....you're going to get what you pay for. Alex and his unique personality will be included at no extra charge.