Armistice Day


Yes, I know it was yesterday. On the Eleventh Day, Of the Eleventh Month, at the Eleventh hour; the bells tolled, and the guns stopped. And it is remembered ;

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I was of a different generation, and alas, a different war. To all my Brothers in Arms,


To those who did not return,


Nothing To Say ?

Well, mid-term elections are over. Hawaii’s voters were typically unmotivated and the turn out not any better than any other election. The big question should be ;WHY??

This is my opinion, only my opinion. I have no facts, no polls, and no proof. Just an opinion.

Those that were running for office had nothing to say.

I did not know what made Tupola different than Ige. I didn’t know what or where she stood. She just didn’t seem to have much to say. There were a lot of “town hall” type meetings, sign waving, litter pick-ups but no public statements that I heard. Her running mate had several “Pay to play”, and “I remember my password” ads, but she came off half crazed and not really sounding very Lieutenant Governorish.

The Dem’s didn’t bother to say anything because they were the incumbents and that usually means the same as elected.

Ige finally agreed to a debate, very late in the race, which I watched and felt Tupola won easily. And then she got quiet again. She didn’t seem to have anything to say. She absolutely failed to capitalize on the debate.

So there you have it. There appeared to be no difference between the candidates, no arguments, no “I will do ..” statements from the either side.

Republicans, you gotta speak up. Like my dear old Granny used to say, “If you don’t blow your own horn, nobody will ask you to join the band.”


Just got a call from the Star Advertiser, they’re printing a shorter version n of this. Whoooohaaaa…

More Dust Motes

Destroyed .

On the wharf of Savona, Italy, large waves swept over the parked vehicles and caused the batteries to short out and set fire to many of the vehicles. Somewhere between one and two hundred vehicles were destroyed. At over $100 k per vehicle, the hundreds of Maserati’s will certainly cause some insurance adjuster to consider another profession.


Recent story about an actor so desperate he cut off his own arm, and pretended to be a disabled vet, all to get better acting parts. Even Alec Baldwin wouldn’t go that far.


Hollywood needs a “purge”. Madonna speaks about “burning down the White House”, Babs Streisand is so depressed over Trump she is pigging out on chocolate ice cream, and Jxxx Fxxxa (I refuse to use her name) compares the duly elected President to the “Third Reich”.


If a bunch of people from one country, walk into another country and start making demands, history used to refer to it as an invasion. Now it’s a “migrant caravan”.


But hey, I’m still younger than Mickey Mouse who just turned 90 years old.

Correct Spelling Is Important

I never forget one of  my first introductions to the reality of being a cop. There was a murder. A 17 year old girl was stabbed 37 times in a most brutal killing.

A cab driver that was in “debt” to me contacted me and related that he had been in that area at the time of the killing and had seen a possible suspect running away. Not wanting to expose him at the station I took a statement from him at my home and then took it to the station to give to the Homicide detectives.

I had been a beat cop out of the academy for about 4 months at this time. It was a Saturday so they called the handling detective to come in to meet me. He was a long time veteran with an “old timers” attitude, especially concerning “rookies”.

I handed him my report. He took one look at it, threw it in the trash and told me “this is a Hom-I-cide. Not a Hom-o-code. Get your shit together before you bother me again.” And he walked away.

I took the papers out of the garbage can and “observed” that I had misspelled the crime. I was so angry I never resubmitted the report. And he never asked for my information and never told the Captain that I had come forth.

To my knowledge the “hom-i-cide” has never been solved. Maybe it’s my fault it was never solved. That has bothered me for a long time. She visits my dreams on a bad night.

In those early years there were very definite lines of authority and work. Patrolman didn’t do the detectives work, the plainclothes guys didn’t drink with uniformed patrolman, and nobody had anything to do with the lowly footman.

But they were always ready to take the information, make the arrest, and take all the credit for it. It wasn’t like some places were a cop’s advancement can be measured in good arrests, but you could count on being put in your place if you stepped up too far.


Porky Problem

Not me, well yes I’ve gained some weight, but my porky problem is my neighbors “pet” pig “Buddy”. That black lump at the top of the driveway is not a big rock, it’s a big pig. Critter must run between 450-500 pounds.  See that big bent section of fence? That’s where piggy scratched his back with my fence.


I also have pig scat all over the front of my yard and driveway.  With Julie on           immuno-suppressants, that raises health hazards we just don’t need.

My neighbor doesn’t seem to do much to keep Buddy fenced in, he pretty much wanders as he wants, despite my even offering to help build a pen for him. Buddy also walks to my other neighbor’s house, he likes to eat the dog food and walk under her house. Problem is, when he walks under the house, he breaks the water pipes. He has caused a lot of damage, and bad feelings, in the neighborhood.

Remember a while back it took Hilo P.D. 3 ½ hours to respond to a “suspicious vehicle” call?  Well, while rebuilding the drive-way,Buddy was getting in the way. I went to her house and asked her to come and get “her pig”. You know how these kind of conversations usually end up. She called 9 1 1 and it took ten minutes for the P.D. to arrive, 3 of them, to “speak to me” about threatening her pig. (I must be a very bad man.)

Well, piggy has been back, Julie watched him as he tore up the neighbors’ garbage bag and left garbage up and down the driveway. She even took a picture of Buddy with his nose in the bag just before he ripped it open. Humane Society and Hilo P.D. were called. Humane Society did nothing.  Once again H.P.D. took its sweet time, 3 hours, to get there.

I’ve filed complaints with the Planning Commission, filed police reports and filed complaints with the Human Society. Short of digging a very big hole in an empty lot, I am at my wits end.


Well, it’s almost that time. I do remember I hated working Waikiki during Halloween. That place was strange enough without everyone running around in masks and costumes. However, as with every “holiday”, some officers found a way to have some fun and do some  good.


                               The Cops Are Monsters

One of my earliest beat partners was Bobby Yarnell. A big, barrel chested part-Apache Indian with a huge zest for life and the job. I learned something from Bobby every day I worked with him.

Every year at Halloween Bobby would turn his yard, driveway, and carport into a haunted house and a maze full of monsters. The elaborate costumes, masks, and make up were all done by Bobby’s wonderful wife Nora.

The monster maze was on its fourth or fifth year when Bobby approached me and asked if I could help out with traffic control. Since this required I be in uniform we had to have permission from the Chief of Police. Considering the good publicity these little happenings generated, and the senior police Chaplin and Catholic Nun Sister Roberta Derby was also involved, permission was quickly granted.

The Sister wielded a great deal of authority in the department, well not exactly power or authority, but she usually got her way.

When I say elaborate costumes and make-up, I mean these were Hollywood movie caliber. The huge full head masks were lifelike and constructed so well they could be used for several years.  The make-up was so well applied that you really didn’t want to clean it off until you had scared a good number of kids. It was great.

All of this was out of Bobby’s pocket except for a small amount of donations from the watch officers and others. All of the cops involved would also donate money as well as their time.

This year Halloween fell on a Saturday so Bobby opened the maze on Friday and Saturday nights. It was open from sunset, about 6:00 pm, to 10:00 or 11:00 pm, and there was a line of kids waiting to be scared from early on. Cops, dressed as famous monsters were there to do their best to oblige.

It took me three years to work my way from traffic control to monster. During those years the whole thing grew and grew until it outgrew Bobby’s yard and he had to move it to a neighborhood park. Again, with the good Sister’s blessing, permission was granted.

One year, 1977 or 1978, a friend gave us the use a construction size flatbed truck. All the monsters, complete with grave yard tombstones and pretty damsels in distress, participated in the Kam Day parade through Waikiki.

Since Kam Day is in June, it was a bright, clear day with humidity only a little less than the temperature. The elaborate costumes only increased our discomfort so we had to break character once in a while to re hydrate.

The truck had the “Wolf man” among the tombstones; “Dracula” was in his coffin with a pretty handmaiden; the “Human Fly” (me) menacing several pretty girls; and the “Creature from the Black Lagoon” (Bobby) with a damsel (Nora) at his feet.

The webbed hands of the creature were actually constructed of rubber gloves and I remember one moment when Bobby raised his hand to wave and the sweat literally poured out of the glove in a stream.

But he never broke character.

The greatest joy of his life was when Bobby found out Nora was pregnant. There were four of five kids living with them from her prior marriage, and Bobby treated them like his own, but they both wanted one of their own. He was ecstatic.

I remember the day he and Nora brought Brandi home. That barrel chest of his was even bigger than ever. His smile never faltered, even over diapers.

After retiring from the Department, Bobby spent several years as an investigator for the Honolulu Police commission.

Brandi grew up, went to school, and then became a Honolulu Police officer. A fourth generation cop. She graduated at the top of her academy class. Recently she was promoted to detective. I know she’s a hell of a cop.


It was with deep sadness and a sense of personal loss that I read of Bobby’s passing not too long ago. I think the good Lord needed a good “monster”. Rest in peace Bobby.                   Rest at peace.