Good Morning Pernicious Wonders of Nature,
It’s probably safe to assume the two or three of you reading this tiki lamp, have experienced the pleasure of strolling along a beach of pure white sand while mesmerized at the sun drowning in crystal blue water. For those of you that haven’t had the distinct privilege of meeting my associate Dv’ant, he has a talent for bombast and know he’s a stubborn pompous ass! He desperately clings to the belief Florida in July represents a tropical get-a-way. His passion for Florida’s slimy gulf waters seems unfathomable when compared to the pristine beaches of Hawaii, Samoa, Fiji, Virgin, and the Egret House of Montserrat fame.
These paradises, beautiful and so compelling, serves our fugacious need for bohemianism. I suppose it’s good for the soul to run naked along a deserted beach once in a while and permit sand to enter places never before applied, but inside we all wait for the other shoe to drop. To be waited on 24/7 treated like royalty, simply reinforces our deep seated belief saying aloud “And don’t I deserve it!” I’m here to remind you the pleasure comes at a price. Exquisite as they seem, they are in reality a trap.
If you think about it Florida is not such a bad idea. There is an escape route! Unless you have your own helicopter or other means of departure, leaving an island facing imminent danger is a tricky thing. One choosing to spend time on an island must know this. You weigh the odds, calculate your chances, and perhaps make loose arrangements with a few locals, but if something threatens the entire island one should expect to be on one’s own.
Keeping the above in mind, I’ve been in ongoing discussions with “Curmudgeon Corner” about my obsession with Kona and discovered they share my enthusiasm. They’ve graciously offered to build me a modest hut somewhere inside the restricted area near Mauna Loa. If that isn’t enough, they vowed to keep daily vigil as to its lava flow. You just don’t find friends like that these days.
I leave next week.