Whooo Haha (Cont)

So someone in Hawaii Civil Defense pushes the “wrong” button, headlines scream “panic” everywhere, and now some people are asking “Where was Trump, when did he know, and what was he doing?”

First, everyone grow up and look to the one that pushed the button. He did it, he caused it,and he needs to accept responsibility. Publicly.

There was no time, due to normal  bureaucracy, for the President to do anything except ask to his staff to check all the normal sources, to verify “WTF” , and hope it isn’t true.

The level of venom expressed at the wrong guy is astounding.

It’s amazing the huge number of people have  never considered this possible scenario, never discussed this with their family , or made any kind of emergency preparations.

WAKE UP! We live in the middle of the Pacific and there are emergencies all the time. Make prep’s now, not when it happens.


Whooo Haha

Well, now that the “not a drill” drill is over, and all the world is pointing fingers. I’ll address the elephant on the beach. What bothers me the most is all the headlines proclaiming “panic”.

Me, I had gone to bed at 4 am (night shift, honest) so the 8:06 am audio alert from both phones woke me up. To say the least.

I did what everyone should have done, I called home, told her I loved her and I would get to her. I instructed her to set the alarms, where the “how-to” book for all the systems and generator at home and waited.

Didn’t drive. Did’t start pushing other people out of the way. Kept a steady controlled mind.

Be an ADULT. Think before you do.

Maybe I should have labeled this one Soapbox?

The Name

Sorry for the lack of words. I have been putting a hellacious amount of work hours. (GROAN) I’m too old for this. Enjoy

Road Name

People ask how I got the road name Storyteller. Everywhere you go you’ll meet Bear, Grizz, Snake, Half breed, Psycho and all the others.  I have only heard of one other Storyteller. Gypsy Pete sent me a picture of a British Columbia biker everyone called Storyteller.

He was about 6′, 200 Lb, had a full beard and walked with a cane. We could have been related as that was pretty much my description at the time.

But the guy that “gave” me the name was George Boston.

At the time I was an independent and George rode for Tiger Wong and World Wide M/C. But he and I spent a lot of time drinking at the Kapiolani Bowling Alley bar. Don’t know how we ended there, but we did.

George was a SBU* officer at the time and was looking for something to give the bi-monthly newsletter something extra. I suggested some short stories I had written. He thought that might work.

A few days later I gave him 4 or 5 I had been working on. When he found out I had been a wrestling announcer, tried stand-up comedy and had stories and articles published in Biker and cop magazines. He said, “Jim you’re just a god dammed Story teller, ain’t ya?”

And from then on he started calling me Storyteller. It stuck.

I would say there are hundreds of people who know Storyteller, but if you asked them my real name, maybe 3 out of every 10 would know who you’re talking about.

When someone asks me how I got the name Storyteller, I usually say “After years of doing radio, television, 2 movies, stand-up comedy, numerous published letters to the editor and several articles in Bike and Cop magazines, I got it the old fashioned way. I earned it.”

Then I smile and move along.

The truth is, I was given the name by a good friend and a solid biker brother, George Boston. I miss him sometimes, a lot.

*Street Bikers United; the state of Hawaii lobby for motorcycle riders and their rights.


I think I’ll probably give a warning when I want to get “on my soapbox”. Be aware.

Overheard a couple of people discussing the recent decision to start enforcing federal drug laws regarding marijuana. Even tho’ states have made it “legal”.

You don’t like the law? Work to change it.

Hawaii had a mandatory full time helmet law before there was a seat belt law. It took several years of open defiance, many riders receiving numerous non-compliance citations and pleading not guilty, flooding the courts with hearings, extensive lobbying, but the law was changed. Using the system.

Don’t like the pot law? Start calling, starting writing, get off your stoned butt, and work to change it. Or live with the consequences.



Hope you have liked what you have read so far.

A point of information, all the stories I’ll be posting are true. Maybe later I’ll post some fiction, but I’ll clearly label them “fiction”.

I keep excellent notes, have since I was a leo, still do. Conversations are as I remember them.



Since we just past New Year’s, figured I might share my New Year story. Enjoy.

New Year Knockout

The early 70’s was a tough time to be a cop. Vietnam was teaching young people they could protest, gather in groups, and do almost anything because there weren’t enough cops to arrest everyone.

It wasn’t as bad here as it was on the Mainland, but we had our moments.

It was New Year’s Eve, of 73’. There was ice and snow in most of North America so Waikiki was packed with mostly young adult males pretending to be part of  “the movement” and protests. If drinking lots of booze, chasing young women and smoking pot is a war protest, they had it down.

It had been a fairly busy night already, lots of fights and people running out on their bar/restaurant tabs.

Really one of the most active New Years Eves I could remember.

But I’d only been a cop for 4 years, what did I know.

The problem seemed to be the problems were always at opposite ends from each other. So my partner “Robin” and I were kept hopping. In fact, one time we stopped a city bus had the driver skip a stop so we got to the fight first.

We did hear about that later.

There were no days off during The New year’s Eve. Everyone worked. As it got busier each year, more officers and ideas were put into play. This year it was decided to have a “mobile command” post, complete with booking table and utilizing the paddy wagon as a holding cell. This was located in a small alley behind what was then the Waikiki Liberty House store, one of the biggest in the chain.

The booking table was for minor things like drinking in public, fire cracker violations, and the ever popular public nudity.

These minor infractions could be booked, cited, and released, once.

Get arrested a second time, you sat in the “wagon” until its regular half hour return to the station to empty its holdee’s.

It all started when someone got arrested and they had a lot of “friends” that didn’t want them arrested. The officers walked the arrestee’s back to the command center for booking. I seem to remember it was a firework violation, really nothing serious.

The crowd however got caught up as crowds often do. The chant of “Let ‘em go” was picked up and as the officers and prisoners moved through the crowd it was like the cartoon snowball rolling downhill. The chant got bigger and louder as it followed the officers and arrestee’s

A call went out for everyone to rally to the command center. It wasn’t exactly an “officer needs help 10-13” call, but pretty close. My partner Ray and I jogged down to the lane entrance right behind the crowd. The “Let ‘em go” was getting louder and more insistent and the crowd was becoming ugly.

As Ray and I pushed our way through the crowd I spotted a well built, bald oriental male that seemed between the crowd and the several uniformed officers.

I couldn’t hear what he was saying but he seemed to be trying to make or keep peace between the two groups.

Ray and I crossed to the police “side” as the crowd got louder and more stirred up. Several cops started to step forward and that was when the “peacemaker” turned and physically shoved two of the officers backwards and away from the civilian crowd.

Things really exploded then. The 2 groups rushed at each other.

I tried to keep my eye on the peacekeeper. I decided he was “going in” for shoving the two officers.

The two groups weren’t doing any more than shoving each other at this point but it was loud and confusing.

That’s when I see “peacekeeper” to one side as he stumbled a little and almost lost his balance. That’s when I threw the best left punch in my life. It caught him between the ear and the jaw point and he dropped like bag of rags.

I was reaching for my cuffs when one of the other cops yelled

“They hit the Major. Major Lim is down.”

Major Lim, the new Patrol Division Commander?

I looked around and didn’t see any uniforms on the ground. What I did see was several officers helping and protecting, the guy I was calling “the peacekeeper”.

Today this would be called an OMG moment, because I realized I had just punched my new division commander. Not just hit him. I blind-sided, sucker punched and false cracked my new patrol boss unconscious. Yeah, that’s an OMG moment.

It turned the tide. The cops started taking everything serious. Flashlights, handcuffs, and black jacks sort of serious.

This caused the crowd to decide they needed to be any place but where all these angry cops were. It didn’t take long and they were all running in other directions.

Everything was pretty anti-climactic from there.

A few facts did come out, and these are important;


The Major was in plain clothes, and had not notified anyone he would be checking out the command center when it all started.


He was trying to calm everyone down when he got hit. He didn’t see who hit him and none of the surrounding officers had either.


Only a couple of crowd members suffered lumps and bruises and no one ended in the ER.


I never told anyone but my partner that I threw that punch, even though I would have had free beers for a long, long time.

Glory is one thing, getting fired would have been possible but being on that Major’s bad side, probably until the day one of us retired, would have been a whole new level of hell.

Hey Major, no hard feelings. Hey?


Some more about me. Hey, it’s my blog.

One of the things I’ve been working on these last 30 years ism not being a hypocrite.

I’m really getting tired of some H-wood actor telling me this or that is wrong. Yet his next, and the last one and all the one’s before that, glorifies that very same action.

Why the heck did the rest of the country get all mixed up in the Alabama elections. You don’t live there, it is really none of your business. Let the people there decide, it’s their state.

Please forgive these early mistakes as I’m still working this blog thing out. But thanks for reading.