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What TWC thought was a break in the action in Gaza turned out to be just a pit stop to refuel the tanks. You have to love the Israelis, they just don't screw around. I'm still LOL that they arrested pretty much the entire PLO, er ah, Hamas, er ah, Palestinian government. Nobody does THAT!
And in Other Nukes, er, News
Sheriff John sees a couple of birthdays out there, Sonny in Md and Will in Az. Happy Happy..........
TWC isn't big on those cutesey emails and websites that are meant to be inspirational or tear jerking. You've heard the tinny music and watched the stale platitudes scroll by, so you know which ones I mean. That said, Jacquie Lawson never disappoints, and this imaginative and clever 4th of July tribute lives up to TWC expectations. It's worth a couple minutes of your busy day.
The FCC decides (surprise) that Internet telephone service (VOIP) ought to be taxed to support subsidized services in rural areas. Assuming we can justify that stuff at all, TWC is still fuzzy on why anyone in modern America needs subsidized phone service. They may be poor but even those who can't seem to make the rent payments on time have cable TV and a cell phone. Yet another example of 19th Century government solutions to 21st Century non-problems.
Got several emails asking when I'd do another wine review. I'm on vacation man, but here goes.
Despite coming with a fancy gold sticker on the bottle neck proclaiming that the wine had won three (or so) prestigious Gold Medals, Barefoot Cabernet is just barely okay (get it? Just Barely).
Being in Hawaii, I even tried it without shoes. No help. If you let it breath for a long time it gets more tolerable but mostly it's a cheap cab with that cloying sort of sweet taste that often gets passed off as cherries.
For the record, Barefoot Cab is better than Glen Ellen or Two Buck Chuck, but for the money, you'd do better with Mondavi's cheap non-denominational Cabernet. Buy it by the 1.5 liter bottle for $9-$14. (Sorry, I just can't call it a magnum).
Props for a great name and advertising stragedy though (Yes, I attended the Bugs Bunny phonics class).
The man with the porkpie hat, trench coat, and Dick Tracy watch was in Honolulu doing some nefarious business for the Dark Side when my cell phone rang and someone said Hey, I'm catching a plane over to Kahului Airport right now whatdddyaa doing?
It all came together at Leilani's on Kaannapali Beach this afternoon (Sunday) with Stevie Crown, Ray, and TWC. Ray's a surfer who's pretty much lived in the islands for 35 years and originally met up with Stevie Crown when they were roommates on Oahu way back in the dark ages (an upscale neighborhood on the other side of Diamond Head). Ray's little bro was a cabbie that hustled the boys hot looking honies. Hey, babe, why not come party with me and my friends at my beach house? I can assure you, I wasn't having nearly that much fun in my early twenties.
Ray was taking it easy with Coors Lite, anticipating the ride to the airport. Stevie Crown (I told you so) was downing Crown Royale, and of course, TWC was drinking wine (Dynamite Cab).
Laughter with old friends and new is definitely the best medicine.
The thermostat was left on at 95 degrees in the chapel for a week straight before we got married. The candles all melted in the heat and the place was as oppressive as Baton Rouge in late August. Old ladies were fainting.
BTW, this chick, er, bride, is much thinner and much more attractive than she may appear in this photo.
This is skimboarding on a boogie board. The object is to, well, have some fun.
As the wave recedes, run as fast as you can, throw the board down while simultaneously jumping onto it, landing on your knees. Ride the thin membrane of water on top of the sand down the beach toward an incoming wave in sort of a reverse surfing move. If your timing is wrong it's like riding wet concrete and you're likely to do a face plant.
That's Jacob, Thomas, & Robert. Thomas is from San Francisco and Robert is from Austin.
It's still pretty early this Sunday morning in Paradise and there are worse places to spend Father's Day. Like Fallujah or Kabul. TWC might take in some jazz on the beach later but I wanted to send my best wishes to my own father and every other father as well.
Here's my pop at age 16 with his 1929 Plymouth. Pretty sure that was taken outside my mom's place back when they were all moon eyes over each other. I was going to photoshop that picture but man, I'm on vacation.
After 8 + hours we drag them away kicking and screaming.
Napili Beach is a fun beach, alive with sounds you may never have heard before. Something akin to a muffled version of the sounds of a theme park thrill ride soothed by crashing surf and then layered with the uninhibited, belly-aching laughter of children unable to contain their sheer joy. Taken together, it's musical. Perhaps a cross between a distant wind chime and Asian-influenced new age music. But not quite.
The beach is steep and then flattens out underwater so the kids can ride the surf up the beach and then it sucks them back down in a continuous cycle sort of like one of those carnival pirate ship rides.