Not What It Seems

There have been a lot of places that weren’t what they “seemed”. I don’t mean massage parlors, private club bars, and the like. Those don’t count because nobody expects them to be what they say they are.

Kind of like “Smith’s Union Street Bar” which was several blocks from The Union Street Mall and the “Corner Liquor” store which was never on a corner during the 20 or so years I was familiar with it.

At one time there was a “Moiliili Bakery” on South King Street. It was one of those little “bodega” type store that mostly sold booze, rolling papers and candy bars. It wasn’t really a bakery in any definition of the word. Maybe at some time in history, but not now.

But the Moiliili Bakery was really something different.

You had to be a special visitor, or a member of a very special group to understand what was so special about the bakery.

It was a fairly dark place, even in the middle of the day. You had to let your eyes adjust and then look really hard up into the dark corners of the shop to see what was so special; swords.

After the end of WWII the owner Toshio had started buying Japanese swords from returning Servicemen He often knew more about the sword than the GI selling it. Old Samurai Family’s often had family swords outfitted with military hardware when the sons, grandsons, and other members went off to war. These swords would look like any other military sword, unless you knew what you were looking at, and then you had to know what you were looking for. They don’t look two to three hundred years old and worth more than some major companies.

He knew what he was looking at. So he bought swords, spears and other returning souvenirs.

Some of those he acquired were considered “National” treasures and he agreed they would return to the Japanese government upon his death.

His death, in 1977 was the result of a couple of low life street thugs who only thought of “rich” in terms of dollars. If memory serves me, Tosh managed to get a couple of shots of his own off before succumbing to his own mortal wounds.

Shortly after his death his collection was indeed returned to the Government of Japan. An armored car with white gloved attendants picked up all of the treasures.

Nobody was charged with his murder until 2006, 29 years later. The two culprits, both whose names were familiar to area beat cops of those days, were both already convicted killers.

One hopes there is a special circle of hell with 2 reserved seats

Stuff and Thoughts

While I was laid up I started a binge on the Amazon Prime  series “Goliath” with Billy Bob Thornton.

I gotta say, he has never been better. He is a deep thought  provoking actor and this series lets him display his talent.  William Hurt and Maria Bello are good, solid actors but they shine in this series. Highly recommended.

Believe it or not, there is, off-Broadway of course, “Green Acres, The Musical”

Bill Clinton and James Patterson have written a murder mystery and are out promoting it. I didn’t know either one needed the money that bad.

The NetFlix show “Glow” makes me think about the time I was the trainer, promoter, and announcer for Honolulu’s only professional women’s jello wrestling team.

Good news: Eating Dark Chocolate reduces stress and inflammation.

NYC has passed Honolulu in the “You can’t think for yourself” laws. Honolulu has a no-cell while crossing the street law, NYC says “smoking while walking” is now illegal.

When your mate says,”I know you’re not going to like this”, they’re usually right.

 

 

 

Jeep 3 – Storyteller 0

” Mr. Pritchett walked through parking stalls behind the AllState vehicle which was already reversing into a parking stall. These facts of loss are supported per the police report. 30% negligence assessed to the AllState vehicle for reversing and 70% negligence assessed to Mr. Pritchett for failure to yield right of way and failure to take evasive action.”

“This letter is to inform you that you have exhausted the available coverage limits.”

Thoughts and Stuff

Why does everyone cry about the “rights” of illegal aliens? They are not citizens of the U.S., they don’t get rights.  If they want to become “immigrants”, fine. Then they get the whole shebang. But as long as they are trying to enter illegally, they only have the rights God gave them, to live.

 

I really miss places like “The Jolly Roger Crows Nest”, “Keone’s”, and Sunday morning coffee and banana muffins poolside at the Tahitian Lanai.

 

A while back I was involved in building a Federal Fire Department Fire House. At the very end, we had to install wheelchair ramps and braille plates on all the rooms. I don’t know about you, but if my house is on fire, don’t send the blind wheelchair fireman. Send me that big dude on the calendar.

 

It is now time for bullshit, horseshit, and batshit. In otherwords elections. We have way too many lifetime politicians. Government service was supposed to be just that, service to your friends and neighbors. Not a full time career.

One touts her 35 years of experience, in politics. Another says vote for him because he sued the President. Another says she didn’t do any debates, because nobody asked her.

These comments show just how stupid these people think the voters really are. The problem is every time we re-elect them, we show they’re right.

 

How did that State Hospital escapee plan all that by himself? How did he get the clothes, money, and reservations, all by himself. Oh, he didn’t do it by himself? Then why the hell hasn’t anybody been indicted and brought to trial? Who’s asleep here?

 

Last, but certainly not…

Violent street gang “Trinitarios” apologizes for killing the wrong 15 year old kid. They slashed him to death with machete’s. But hey, they’re sorry so that makes it okay.                                                                                                          Did I miss something here?

 

The Prosecutor

Recently an old friend of mine, former three dot columnist Don Chapman, published a book called “Godfather”, a story of crime, politics, and some Hawaii history few people remember anymore. At it’s time, it was daily water cooler coffee counter  conversation.

I have always believed Don Chapman was and is a heck of a writer and on a few occasions it was a lot of fun being his wingman.  We spend many enjoyable hours at Hummers and Trappers.

I am not arguing to argue with Don’s facts,  conclusions, I have my own.

I do want to tell my story about one of those involved, Charles Marsland,

The Prosecutor.

I’d always like to talk about some of the people I’ve known or met in this life, and there have been many. Some stand out above others.

Lady Dallas, a well known Waikiki bartender and personality of the 70’s. When she found out I’d “steered” a pimp away from her daughter, she provided me with one of the more memorial nights of my life. And that was 5 or 6 years after the incident.

Geraldo, the Frenchman who, along with his wife of many many years ran an Italian restaurant in Kailua, and held some of the highest military medals and honors the French government could bestow on a member of the resistance, including the “Croix de guerre”. An honor so grave, that all men should stand when the recipient enters the room.

He had come to Hawaii during the 50’s when his daughter had gotten married here. He just stayed.

He had also become a United States citizen and had sponsored a man into the United States and brought him to Hawaii.

That man’s name I never knew. He owned a run-down second hand book store on South King Street.

The store was dark; shelves lined 2, 3 or 4 deep, very little lighting and lots of cats.

He was also an Auschwitz survivor, bore the number tattoo on his left forearm and was the 1st person Geraldo had freed when they had taken the camp.

One night the book store burned to the ground, very, very quickly. An old wooden building, full of old books and papers and who knows how bad or old the electrical wiring was; all in all a very bad accident. The resident never got out. I‘ve always felt better thinking it was an accident and not the end of a man who had seen too much pain for any lifetime.

But of all the people I have ever known, the finest was the City and County, Prosecutor Charles Marsland. I first met him when he was serving as a deputy corporation counsel, City Defense Attorney, and I was being sued for the 1st time as a police officer.

It was a narcotics bust that had resulted in one of the sellers getting froggy and getting his jaw broken. Honest, Sid only hit him once but since Sid had arms bigger than the average mans thighs, it only took one.

Chuck had been assigned as our City Defense Attorney and he and I hit it off right away.

He was always very polite, nicely dressed, and you could always see a twinkle in his eyes.

He drove his signature Lincoln convertible as long as I knew him.

He wore a short, well clipped mustache that when he was really concentrating he would brush up and down with the fore finger of his hand. You could always tell when he was really thinking, that mustache would be brushed up and down faster and faster.

I shared a couple of community college classes with his son, Charles III. “Chucker” was also a doorman at a local club, The Point After. A club attended by both cops and crooks.

Charles III shared his father’s conservative attitude, was very pro-police and not afraid to speak up.

I’m not really sure which of these traits was responsible, but one of them resulted in Chucker’s murder. He was found shot to death in 1975.

Charles Marsland was the 1st person “elected” as the City and County Prosecutor serving 2 terms in that position.

During those years, he took that office to a new level of competency and professionalism.

He would establish an investigative office and initiate cases outside or parallel with the police department.

Marsland will mostly be remembered for his crusade, vendetta, or investigations into Hawaii Organized Crime.

Objects of the investigations would claim harassment and vendetta.

The newspapers and TV reporters would use the words crusade and relentless investigations.

I guess it would depend on which end of the investigation you were on.

All of this has been written to death. All the pros, cons, love and hate that surrounded Charles Marsland and his tenure as Prosecutor has been written to death.

To me Chuck was a kind, gentle man who loved life and his son.

He was aggressive and tenacious warrior for law and justice. For Chuck, those 2 weren’t always the same, but they were the goals he reached for.

 

Charles Marsland passed away 2007.

He will be remembered.

Jeep 2 – Storyteller 0

Just got a call from his insurance representative. She tells me they have completed their investigation and have “assigned” blame to both of us.

So, they will pay up to $10K for medical expenses, and that’s all.

Medical from that day only, is over $18K.

I lost 5 weeks income. They will cover nothing.

And their reasoning for this, they assigned me blame because…

” you shouldn’t have been walking in the parking stall.”

It would have been better if I was in the middle of the entry so he could have hit me earlier? Or should I kung fu float over the landscape? How about, he opens his eyes, looks around, and doesn’t run over the pedestrian.

Over?  Not by a long way.

Odds and Ends

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Navarre and Isabeau, my husky’s. They are wearing their “Treat Time” expressions.

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Terry The Tramp and I, in a better,happier time and place.

 

Whoopie Goldberg all upset because a new Supreme Court Justice will “over turn Roe -v- Wade.                                                                                                                          Someone remind me what law school she graduated from. It don’t work that way.

New Mexican President Calls For Mass Immigration To U.S.                                    Another move to get rid of deplorable’s?

“Comey considered telling Irish Immigration officials he was Canadian.”                     Why not, you’ve lied about everything else.

The Most Important Thing On Monday?                                                                                       It is water. Because you can’t make coffee without water.