We all have triggers in life, moments that can revive memories, sometimes good, sometimes not so good. I had two chuckle worthy memories that were triggered a few days ago. I was video chatting with my younger brother Andy on WhatsApp, laughing about our past foibles. Then I went to have lunch at the Pacific Dining Room (PDR). Those were the two triggers and they're related. Here are the memories.
After I graduated High School on Kwajalein, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I still don't, although I’ve sure ferreted out a bunch of things I don't want to do. In order to avoid adulting, I worked construction for Martin Zachary with a bunch of Hawaiians. Everyone called me Haole boy and that was okay, because that's obviously what I was. Chige Sakamoto was my boss. Chige was Japanese/Hawaiian, he had a wispy mustache, wore green tinted aviator style glasses and always, always wore a white V-neck t-shirt. Chige seemed to take particular pleasure in barking out orders to me which, without variation began with, "Haole boy, COME!" I was a General Laborer and if you're a General Laborer, you get all the shit jobs and that was okay too, that's just where I was in life. The job paid an hourly rate of $4.50/hour (Chige said I was overpaid), came with a room in the Pacific Bachelor's Quarters (PBQ) which included about 5 roommates and a meal card. That meal card entitled me to three square meals a day. The room at the PBQ ended up being a storage space for my road bike, I moved back in with my parents because well, it was more inviting than living with 5 roommates. That's right, I was a boomerang kid before it was a thing. I set up a fruit dehydrator on the roof of the house. It was a simple affair, a raised wooden box, wire mesh bottom and plexiglass cover to keep the flies and other vermin at bay. It also sat in 4 bowls of water - that was the only way I could keep the ants out. I shamelessly liberated a lot of apples and papayas every day to dry; papaya spears took about 3 - 4 days to dry, apples shriveled up in a day and those who know me well know just how shameless I can be. Andy and I shared a room, and I always had a huge bowl of dried apples sitting on my dresser. I came back one day and it was empty. Andy said he had a few handfuls. Then he had some more. There's no denying they were quite tasty. Maybe he took a break, maybe not, but he had some more. At that point, the bowl was less than half full, and it was a really big bowl. A few more handfuls, because he was hungry and they were fantastic. He decided he was past the point of no return. He finished the entire bowl, which probably represented 30 apples. Don't judge, we Taylor's have fast metabolisms. We laugh about it today, but I wasn't a happy camper when I came home from work looking for a fruit snack.
Working construction doing all the shit jobs that Chige liked to give me helped me burn a lot of calories and I ate a lot of food. One day at lunch, they had teriyaki steak - I piled it on, about 4 pieces and cut into it, put it in my mouth, started to chew and then spit it out. Chige laughed so hard he nearly spit his food out. Because I was Haole boy and I was overpaid, but also because it was just funny. Chige slapped his hand down on the table and yelled, “What, Haole boy, you no like liver?” When you are expecting the taste of teriyaki steak and get liver, well, not one of my favorite food memories.
I had lunch at the PDR a few days ago. The menu at the PDR is mind numbingly boring. The food isn't that bad, it's just repetitive. Taco Tuesday is inexorably followed by Wings Wednesday (full disclosure: I like both). But when I went into the PDR that day there was something new on the menu - Teriyaki Steak. I laughed so hard when I saw that, I snorted. I don't remember them having signs above the food back in the 70's and 80's, maybe I just didn't look. Entirely possible. But now I'm older and sometimes wiser. I looked at the sign, then looked at the meat. You can bet your bottom dollar I looked at the sign again before asking for a piece, then laughed and laughed some more, all at myself but hey, laughter is good.
Herna Jibwa, - every time she sees me she says, “Hello Alan Taylor!”
After I graduated High School on Kwajalein, I didn't know what I wanted to do. I still don't, although I’ve sure ferreted out a bunch of things I don't want to do. In order to avoid adulting, I worked construction for Martin Zachary with a bunch of Hawaiians. Everyone called me Haole boy and that was okay, because that's obviously what I was. Chige Sakamoto was my boss. Chige was Japanese/Hawaiian, he had a wispy mustache, wore green tinted aviator style glasses and always, always wore a white V-neck t-shirt. Chige seemed to take particular pleasure in barking out orders to me which, without variation began with, "Haole boy, COME!" I was a General Laborer and if you're a General Laborer, you get all the shit jobs and that was okay too, that's just where I was in life. The job paid an hourly rate of $4.50/hour (Chige said I was overpaid), came with a room in the Pacific Bachelor's Quarters (PBQ) which included about 5 roommates and a meal card. That meal card entitled me to three square meals a day. The room at the PBQ ended up being a storage space for my road bike, I moved back in with my parents because well, it was more inviting than living with 5 roommates. That's right, I was a boomerang kid before it was a thing. I set up a fruit dehydrator on the roof of the house. It was a simple affair, a raised wooden box, wire mesh bottom and plexiglass cover to keep the flies and other vermin at bay. It also sat in 4 bowls of water - that was the only way I could keep the ants out. I shamelessly liberated a lot of apples and papayas every day to dry; papaya spears took about 3 - 4 days to dry, apples shriveled up in a day and those who know me well know just how shameless I can be. Andy and I shared a room, and I always had a huge bowl of dried apples sitting on my dresser. I came back one day and it was empty. Andy said he had a few handfuls. Then he had some more. There's no denying they were quite tasty. Maybe he took a break, maybe not, but he had some more. At that point, the bowl was less than half full, and it was a really big bowl. A few more handfuls, because he was hungry and they were fantastic. He decided he was past the point of no return. He finished the entire bowl, which probably represented 30 apples. Don't judge, we Taylor's have fast metabolisms. We laugh about it today, but I wasn't a happy camper when I came home from work looking for a fruit snack.
Working construction doing all the shit jobs that Chige liked to give me helped me burn a lot of calories and I ate a lot of food. One day at lunch, they had teriyaki steak - I piled it on, about 4 pieces and cut into it, put it in my mouth, started to chew and then spit it out. Chige laughed so hard he nearly spit his food out. Because I was Haole boy and I was overpaid, but also because it was just funny. Chige slapped his hand down on the table and yelled, “What, Haole boy, you no like liver?” When you are expecting the taste of teriyaki steak and get liver, well, not one of my favorite food memories.
I had lunch at the PDR a few days ago. The menu at the PDR is mind numbingly boring. The food isn't that bad, it's just repetitive. Taco Tuesday is inexorably followed by Wings Wednesday (full disclosure: I like both). But when I went into the PDR that day there was something new on the menu - Teriyaki Steak. I laughed so hard when I saw that, I snorted. I don't remember them having signs above the food back in the 70's and 80's, maybe I just didn't look. Entirely possible. But now I'm older and sometimes wiser. I looked at the sign, then looked at the meat. You can bet your bottom dollar I looked at the sign again before asking for a piece, then laughed and laughed some more, all at myself but hey, laughter is good.
It was a large bowl. And remember, they were made even more delicious with their exotic nature, no such delights were to be found at the Surfway. Not to mention the forbidden fruit angle. I skimmed a couple off the top of the enormous bowl. Not a chance they would be missed. several repeat visits to the bowl happened with the same calculus in mind until... maybe it might be noticed. Repeat visit. Might be noticed. Repeat visit. Might be notice. Repeat visit.. will be noticed! but its still not too bad. On and on until at sometime racked with guilt and in the midst of pleasure I knew i had f-ed up. You were going to be pissed. But no more pissed than if I ate the whole damn thing. I ravished the remains and waited for my judgement. When you did come home and I explained it all to you, the best part was you actually laughed at my story, I couldn't believe you could find the humor in it and not kill me. Thanks for being a good big brother.
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