SPOTLIGHT on the Summer of 1968 (and beyond a bit)... (back to travel)

So... we leave the summer of love ('67) where it belongs, back in San Francisco, and move on to the next summer. In case you haven't guessed yet, I'm teaching now, which means that I have summers off.. in 1968 I decided to go for the big one and drive to Alaska!!!!

yeah... right... My parents hit the proverbial roof, as a driving trip to Alaska (8,000 miles round trip) included traveling for the most part on the ALCAN highway, which was (and is) built on permafrost, which isn't as permanent as it sounds. We wrangled over it for a while and I said 'What the hell, I'll go to Hawaii"... just so I got out of Dodge (so to speak).

I spent two months in Hawaii that summer, and it was more than a summer of love, that's for certain! This was the farthest I had ever been from home, and, as with most Hawaii visitors, a place that seemed both exotic and safe.

I stayed at the PInk Palace for a week(?) until I found a place to stay longer that was cheaper.. I think... my memories of the 2 month trip are mixed with the 2 years I lived there, so If I'm lying, I'm sorry... or not. As you know, I may not always be right, but I can sure sound like it .

This was a summer of not working and lounging on the beach and meeting bunches of very different people. Too bad I don't like that kind of thing.. sigh.. I was enchanted with the sounds, smells and feel of the islands, and totally taken with the people. I also visited Maui before I went home... met this little Scorpio named Mel.... ah... but I digress...

When I got home, I was, of course, restless. My brother was getting married in Feb '69 and my sister in June of '69 so I up and moved to Hawaii just after my brother's wedding,

That's me, in my little red '69 VW, surfing in to Waikiki.

I actually slept in that car for several nights (and NO ONE fits in the back seat of a VW). I shipped my stuff over and picked it up just as I got an apartment on Hoolai street (pronounced ho- ho -lie). It was close to the International Market place which had the MOST WONDERFUL food court ever. Food from all over the world... and there was the Honolulu International center down the street which had boxing. I could walk down and watch the little flyweights wham the stuffing out of each other. sigh...

I've talked about waiting tables in Hawaii in another blog, but I want you to remember just how much I loved that job. I have never kept a job that I didn't like for very long, so I don't have a lot of bad memories about working, but I certainly loved some more than others, and I was made to be a waitress (and a bank teller/new accounts clerk, and an earth mother to source engineers at hughes, and a teacher and... well.. you know me!)

The sounds of Hawaii are many, and most of them beautiful. Waikiki, however, was being built (the huge buildings that are now overwhelming the small piece of land). Since it's on sand (most of which was shipped in from.. you guessed it.. Manhattan Beach!), it required pile drivers to set pilings deep in the 'soil'. So the "Boompa Chucka" sound of pile drivers is as much a part of my memories as the other, more delicate sounds.

The music wrapped me up and held me often. I am always listening for the similarities between all cultures "folk music" , as all local music tells stories. I have found that it is only the change in instruments that makes one different than another. Anytime I hear the distinctive sound of a slack-key guitar or a ballad, I am transported back to that island faster than all the pictures or stories can possibly move me...

I could go on forever about those two years and mention names and ... well... I could go on for ever.

The big difficulty with Hawaii came as I learned more about my restless self. The island was too small.

too small...

Sometimes I would get into the car and drive around the island...

twice.

just to 'go somewhere'.

and along with all the wonderful memories (days AND nights) in Hawaii was this one stand out...

I drove through a rainbow..

twice...

Aloha...