The best thing Mayor Yamashiro while did in office was to upgrade Lili‘uokalani Park in Hilo. Every single day one can see people exercising or picknicking and kids fishing. You can watch people or just enjoy the view across the bay.
June and I often drive past the park in the afternoon, and we see people enjoying it in many different ways. It is a well-used park—by all kinds of people for all sorts of reasons. Sometimes we go there and relax on a bench at dusk.
I was reading the newspaper Sunday when I noticed the University of Hawai‘i at Hilo Spring 2008 schedule for its classes in the College of Continuing Education & Community Service. I don’t know why, but slack key guitar lessons came immediately to my mind.
I scanned straight down the alphabetical list to the S’s, and sure enough, there was “Slack Key Guitar” with Cyril Pahinui. Wow, Cyril Pahinui?! I have to sign up as soon as I can, I thought. I registered the next morning.
Informally, I’ve dabbled in playing slack key guitar since 8th grade. In high school my Pop gave me my great-grandma’s old Martin guitar. It was old, and the fingerboard had indentations in it from where Tutu Lady Meleana’s fingers wore out the wood. That was 47 years ago and I still have her guitar. I think it may be the possession I have had for the longest time.
I called Macario, Leslie’s husband, and told him I was going to the class. He’s a real musician, and he asked me if I wanted to use one of his guitars for the class because it will be easier to learn on than Tutu’s old Martin.
He explained that there are some really fine points regarding what kinds of strings to use. The technology has improved greatly from what I knew. It has to do with how high the strings are, how wide the neck is and how far apart the frets are spaced. He mentioned other things that I don’t know enough about to understand. I dropped by his house Monday morning and picked up the guitar.
When I have learned something about playing slack key, I look forward to putting my fingers on that worn wood where Tutu Lady’s fingers ran across the strings. And I hope I can learn to appreciate all those finer points.
But most of all, I am really looking forward to attending the class. It starts on February 12th, which seems so long from now. I’ve wanted to take slack key guitar lessons for as long as I can remember. And from Cyril Pahinui! It doesn’t get better!
I got to chat with Robert “Steamy” Chow at the Farmers Market Saturday morning. When I was a kid, people called him “Steam Pork.” But since then it’s evolved to “Steamy.” He was an old friend of my father’s and although I had never met him before, Pop talked about him so often I feel like I know him.
Steamy was a master caliber pistol shooter, as was Pop. Pop was into pistol competitions. He built his own pistol range, made his own koa gun box that he took to competitions, and carved custom koa handgrips for his pistols when the store-bought custom grip did not work just right.
I can remember that Pop would “dry run practice” for hours at home. He put a piece of black tape on the living room wall and practiced focusing. Since a person cannot focus both near and far at the same time, he had a routine. He would focus on, and level, the front and rear sights, making sure the distances through the rear sights were equal from side to side.
Then he kept that relationship steady and refocused downrange, to balance the black bullseye on top of the front and rear sights, which were out of focus but already set.
To become as proficient as humanly possible he exercised to strengthen his shooting arm. The stronger the better. For hours he practiced holding his breath—thinking his heart rate down so that his arm would stay steady.
Pop was amazing. He was not satisfied merely to hit the bullseye. He was more interested in how many times he hit the “x,” which is the mark in the middle of the bullseye.
When live firing and “in the zone,” he could call the shots. He would say, “2 o’clock X.” This meant he thought his round had hit the bullseye on the right upper side of the “X.” More often than not, Pop was right.
He told us: “Like everything else, it’s a mental game.” This was his shorthand for figuring out where you need to be, breaking the problem down into its essential elements and then doing or inventing what you need to get there.
At the market Saturday morning, Steamy said he has followed our farming progress in the newspapers for many years. He told me, “You’re just like your dad.” This reinforced in me the belief that influencing a child early in life can have a positive impact. And because I had such respect for my Pop, it also made me feel good.
Pop always said, “Not, no can. CAN!” I learned this lesson well and I still absolutely believe it. I want to give kids the opportunity to feel like anything is possible.
It’s great to go to the Kino‘ole Farmers Market on Saturday mornings. Talking story with people makes it so interesting and gratifying.
We have work to do here in Hawai‘i.
When I went to the Association for the Study of Peak Oil (ASPO) conference in Houston a couple months ago, oil had just hit a new record high of $84 per barrel. We conference-goers all knew that oil would hit $100/barrel soon.
Which it did Sunday.
$100 oil!
Several months before that conference, I’d already started noticing that prices for fertilizer and most farming supplies were rising steadily. It seemed unusual. I felt like a frog slowly heating up in a pot on the stove.
As I listened at the conference to speaker after speaker telling us how grim the future looked in the face of declining world oil supplies, it occurred to me how fortunate we are in to live in Hawai‘i where we have abundant alternate energy sources. We have geothermal, hydroelectric, solar and wind power possibilities. I did not have the heart to tell the people I met there how fortunate people in Hawai‘i are in these changing times.
Yet right now, our energy costs are the highest in the nation. Here in Hawai‘i we use 50 million barrels of oil per year. At $100 per barrel, this amounts to $5 billion leaving our economy for the Middle East every year. We need to fix this.
I think that we need to empower our citizens, by subsidies if necessary, so they can sell electricity back to the electric utilities at “peak times.” Instead of relying on only a handful of industrial-sized power plants, we need to spread our risk and empower individuals and small businesses.
After tourism and the military, discretionary income is what powers the local economy. Every dollar we can avoid sending to the Middle East is a dollar that can multiply in our local economy. We must do this because we now have the highest cost electricity in the entire nation.
Why don’t we give the money we would send overseas to our homeowners and small businesses, instead? Wouldn’t we rather pay our neighbors, where the money can circulate in our economy, instead of sending it straight overseas?
We can fix this. Not, no can. CAN!
A few days ago I delivered several pallets of produce to the Waimea stores. At 4:15 a.m. I loaded up, and then I headed north on Highway 19 for the 60 mile trip.
For a year or more, many years ago, I drove and delivered the Kona route and I learned that truck drivers notice a lot of things while on the road.
They know where the “caution needed” areas are, and where the safe passing zones and the horsepower-robbing climbs are. They notice every bridge, every turn, every bump, and even the drivers coming from the opposite direction and their schedules.
One of the more exhilarating feelings while on the road is watching the sun come up. This is especially so when you’ve been driving for some time in the total dark.
When I dropped off the load in Waimea the other day and started back toward Hilo, it was still pitch black. Then a few miles outside of Waimea, I started to notice the sky getting brighter. The land was still dark and the stars were out but the clouds started to look like they were backlit. I thought to myself, no one would consider turning his/her lights off yet though. It was 6:25 a.m.
A few minutes later, trees in the distance started to show themselves in silhouette. And minute by minute the land started to come out of the shadows, but it was still too dark to turn off my lights. The backlit sky was becoming brighter in the east, and some streaks of orange were starting to show. I asked myself: “When is ‘first light’?”
Right at 6:30, a pair of mynah birds flew by. The sky was bright but the land was still not well lit, though now I could see cows in the pasture a couple of miles away. Was this first light? I still wasn’t ready to turn my headlights off, and neither was the oncoming traffic.
A few minutes later a flock of birds flew by. But the oncoming car lights still looked “nighttime-bright,” not “daytime-on.” I think that it was first light for birds but not yet for us.
At 6:40 a.m., the first car passed me with its headlights off but it had its parking lights on. This, I thought, must be first light for humans.
All those “first light” thoughts made me think about how special that time of day is. And how special this past year has been.
This was the year we started our annual Tomato Recipe contest; started working on issues of food security here in Hawai‘i, where we import most of our food; helped our neighbors at Andrade Camp with their water system; had our cocktail tomatoes named Best Tomato by 100 chefs; started our Adopt-a-Class project; testified about superstores on the Big Island (against) and biofuel (for); published an opinion piece in the Honolulu Advertiser about my “Law of Survival;” learned to make salad dressing from Chef Alan Wong; gave the commencement speech at the Hawai‘i Community College about “Not, no can. Can!;” hosted several groups of legislators at the farm; got involved with really talented Hawaiian science and math students through the Keaholoa STEM program; started thinking about how we in Hawai‘i can take care of ourselves as fuel prices continue to soar out of sight; developed our New Ahupua’a project; attended a lot of terrific Farmers Markets; and sat on a yellow school bus surrounded by 5th graders going out into the community to show appreciation.
Then I started thinking about how special my wife June is. She’s the one behind the scenes taking care of all the details. She’s the one who set up and supervises our bookkeeping system. She is always concerned about the workers’ well-being. Without June, and without a doubt, Hamakua Springs would not be a tiny fraction of what it is today.
With all that thinking going on, the next thing I knew the sun was up, it was a glorious day and I was in a great mood.
A very Happy New Year to you and your families, and let’s all have a terrific 2008.
Santa was at the Kino‘ole Street Farmers Market the other day handing out candy cane and our apple bananas. Rusty Perry asked if we could donate apple bananas for Santa to hand out to little kids, and we were more than happy to give him all the bananas we brought that day.
When a woman came to our booth looking for apple bananas, I told her we didn’t have any, but that I knew where she could get some. I took her over to Santa and she got a few.
There was something going on at the Farmers Market the whole time. In addition to Santa, there was a cooking demonstration going on. I was surprised to see so many people sitting on benches in the audience. It was good to see. And every 30 minutes or so there was a “lucky number” drawing.
The market, which is on Saturdays from 7 a.m. to noon, is sponsored by the Farm Bureau, which wants the actual farmer to be at the booth. Everyone brings good quality, really fresh products and my grandson Kapono and I are happy to be included. This is the third time we have participated and we really look forward to it.
A very Merry Christmas from Hamakua Springs Country Farms!
The other day, when Richard found himself sitting on a yellow school bus surrounded by a bunch of fifth graders dressed in red shirts and Santa hats, he says he looked around and thought, “What am I doing here?”
Sounds like it took him only moments, though, to answer that question.
What was he doing there? Karyl Ah Hee’s Kaumana Elementary School class had invited him along on its annual excursion around Hilo to show appreciation to people who serve this community.
“The first thing that impressed me,” says Richard, “was that the principal came up before we left the school and talked to the children. He said, ‘Now you’re going to represent our school…’ He reinforced the teachers. It was a big deal.”
The kids took down posters they’d made and hung them in the windows of the bus.
First the bus took them to Hospice, where the kids gave out candies and told the people there how much they appreciate what they do.
The reactions, he says, were amazing. “I’m pretty sure that having done this is going to have a real impact on the kids’ lives,” he says, “because the feedback everywhere we went was incredibly positive. People were really touched by the kids and what they do.”
Then to the fire station. “They brought everybody out and maybe three kids gave a presentation,” he says. “It was a talk about their FISH philosophy, making people smile, making people’s day. That sort of thing.”
The FISH philosophy, according to the handout the kids gave (with candies) as they went around Hilo, began at Pike’s Place Fish Market in Seattle.
It is used as a business philosophy, but we have adopted it into our classroom. We have NO class rules…we swim with the FISH. Philosophy for life!
The FISH PHILOSOPHY contains four components:
Choose Your Attitude. You decide your attitude. No one can select it for you; choose a grand one. Even if your day is not going as planned, make the best of it! Be proud of your choice!
Be Present. Really focus on what you are doing or the conversation you are having. Don’t let others interrupt, don’t work on the computer or answer the phone when you are talking with someone. Be in the moment!
Play. This means to do whatever you need to do with a positive attitude. Even it it’s something you don’t enjoy as much. If you have to do it, make the best of it! Give it your ALL!
Make Someone’s Day. This is the most important and easiest component. It means to make someone feel great! Look for situations where you can help: a simple smile, holding a door open, a wave, or a “hi” or “good morning” can do the trick! Help someone in need. The feeling inside is wonderful!
The small information sheet ends with this:
We CHALLENGE you, Hilo! After learning about the FISH philosophy…Go and out Make Somebody’s Day. “We’re striving for a better Hilo, One heart at a time!”
If YOU made somebody’s day, we’d love to hear about it.
Our address: Kaumana Elementary School
Attn: Mrs. Karyl Ah Hee
1710 Kaumana Drive
Hilo HI 96720
Richard was impressed that when they got to the police station, there was the police chief, the assistant chief, and all the police officers sitting in a classroom. “They made a special point of bringing in all the detectives, who were in street clothes,” he says. “It was impressive that they really acknowledged how important it was by bringing everybody in. Everybody was there. The same at the fire station.”
“At the police station, there was this helicopter pilot with Operation Green Harvest, who has 40 years in the National Guard. He said he landed at Kaumana School one day in conjunction with the detectives, and the kids there showed him so much respect he remembered it. He said he’d never seen it before. He asked if he could speak to the kids, and he gave a heartfelt talk with tears in his eyes. I thought, ‘Whoa. There’s really something special going on at Kaumana Elementary.’”
Richard says he is impressed, too, with teacher Karyl Ah Hee.
“She’s a very dynamic person,” he says. “What it all really gets down to is that there are teachers like that, all over, but people largely don’t know. It’s good to see them, because you kind of know it intuitively. When you’re a kid you run across teachers like that, who have such a strong impact, but to actually see it as an adult is great.”
He also talked about how reassuring it is that this sort of thing goes on. “And not only in one school. We know it goes on at Keaukaha School, and at other schools. It is so apparent that when people say that there is something wrong with our educational system, it is not the teachers that are the problem. I’ve seen too many dedicated teachers who, like Karyl Ah Hee, work over and above what can reasonably be expected. They’re doing way above and beyond what they get paid for.”
He gave a little talk to the kids before he left. “I told them thanks for inviting me, because it was really that I was lucky to go, rather than that they were lucky to have me. I told them I was really proud of them. And that we had some apple bananas waiting for them when they got back. They liked that.”
“I’m so glad that I went along,” he says. “Our dedicated teachers are making good citizens of our young children, and I wish everyone could have seen what I saw.”
Rodrigo Romo recently wrote up an analysis of how a solar hot water heater installation works.
After the amount it saves you covers the installation cost, the sun makes electricity for you “free.” This is the same principle utilized in the alternative energy Farm Loan Bill that we are submitting to the Legislature this year.
The current High Tech Business Investment Tax Credit, Act 221, gives a 100 percent state income tax credit for alternate energy projects. So farmers can have their projects built free through income tax savings—just like Rodrigo’s solar water heater example.
Rodrigo writes: We just installed a solar water heater in our house this week because there is a pretty good deal going on. We were told that it should cut back the utility bill by about $20 per person, or about $80 dollars a month. The prices listed here include everything (installation too; it is a turn-key price).
The total cost of the system was $6,656, tax included, but the deal is as follows:
Solar System $6,400
Tax $256
Total $6,656
HELCO Rebate ($1,000)
Federal Credit ($1,697) ($5,656 x 30%)
State Credit ($1,980) ($5,656 x 35%)
Balance to pay $1,980
Right now they have a 12 month, zero down and no interest plan. And if you get it done before the end of the year, you get the federal and state credits on this year’s tax return. The state and federal amounts are not an income deduction, but an actual credit.
The guy that sold it to us is Jonathan Ahn (Solar Engineering and Contracting). His number is 966-9066 and his cell is 255-1824. We got an 80 gallon active system which includes the two solar panels and an 80 gallon tank. If you call him, tell him that Rodrigo Romo gave you the information!
Gloria Baraquio called a couple of weeks ago and asked if they could feature Hamakua Springs Country Farms on a segment of Living Local with the Baraquios, which will air on OC16 in January. “Of course, I’d love it,” I told her.
In addition to the TV program, Gloria writes a weekly column in the Hawaii Tribune-Herald and I’m a big fan. One of my favorites was when she described the local protocol for calling people aunty, sistah, bruddah or cuz.
She writes her column about real things on the Big Island. Not about how we imagine things to be, but how they truly are. From her writing, she strikes me as being a very “real” person.
When she and G. Cruz arrived for the filming yesterday, we went down to the tomato houses to do an interview and she asked about our farming philosophy. I told her we try to be competitive in the present while moving our company to where it needs to be in the future. Right now this means preparing for a future of rising energy costs and converting to using our natural resources for energy instead of fossil fuel sources.
Over the course of the interview yesterday I came to respect Gloria even more. That she lives in lower Puna, on “catchment” and “off the grid,” says it all for me. A person who catches rain water and is not connected to the public utility’s electricity grid is someone who looks at life in a very basic way. She loves the spirituality of lower Puna.
We farmed at Koa‘e in Kapoho in the old days. Maybe that’s why I relate to her column so strongly.
During our interview it clouded over and started raining, but I went ahead and asked Gloria if she would like to see where we are developing our hydroelectric project. I told her the grass would be wet and that the wooden plank over the flume was older than we know. But how did I know, rain or not, that she would want to go? She did.
We drove up the bumpy, four-wheel drive road to the mauka-Hilo corner of our property. I pointed out an old plantation flume that runs under the road and down a small waterfall on its way to the ocean. We parked a hundred yards further on up the road.
Kimo led the way and then came Gloria, G. Cruz with the camera and me, carrying the tripod. The 12-foot plank over the flume was maybe an inch and a half thick. You can’t even tell it’s a wooden blank because of the thick moss that grows on it. The far side of the plank is maybe a foot or more lower than the near side. And there is less than a foot of shoulder between the end of the plank and the river.
But Gloria was so interested in seeing what was going on with the flume that crossing it wasn’t even an issue to her.
The flume runs parallel to the river, and she and G. decided they wanted to film at the most dangerous spot. They walked along the narrow path separating the flume from the river and across another old plank, maybe 10 inches wide, over the top of a waterfall that dropped 20 feet to the river below. I was a little worried about rescuing them if they fell. And then they continued to a four-inch concrete lip to a small dam.
Gloria decided she would walk out on the narrow dam, crouch down and do her narrative from there. And by then it was raining seriously.
She knew in her mind what she wanted and she was fearless in its pursuit.
I have a lot of respect for her.