'Keillor Geography'

OK, y'all. Confession time.

Sometimes -- in the wee small hours, on cold and cloudy days, anytime "Sunday in New York" is showing on TCM -- I dream of disappearing.

I fantasize about moving to Manhattan, working for The New Yorker, begging Charles Osgood for a job on "CBS Sunday Morning," going to see Jonathan Schwartz at WNYC. Other days, I head to Hawaii, Maui mornings, spectacular sunsets.

I've told you before about Garrison Keillor's novel "Love Me." My friend Bridget turned me on to it in 2008. It was my fantasy come to fruition -- writing a best-seller, leaving home for the big time in the Big Apple, working for the late, great William Shawn.

But then I'll receive a note about something I've written from someone down the street. Out of the blue, I'll get a thank you card, or someone will stop by just to shoot the you-know-what. Best of all, my loved ones are here. And I think, "No. At least for now, this is where I need to be."

To my complete and utter delight, Keillor agrees. Read his National Geographic article, folks. This is WRITING. And it has the added benefit of being true.

(Shout out to Fountain City guy Charles Williams for suggesting I read this piece to rid my mind of the fear that we're entering a new Dark Age.)

'Waimanalo Blues'

I will spare you the details, my friends, but tonight (technically, this morning) has been tough.

Here's hoping you are having a wonderful week. I'm OK. Putting one foot in front of the other.

But, as I type at 3 a.m. because I can't sleep, this song fits my state of mind.

You know how badly I want to head to Hawaii. But, no, I won't stand on that soapbox. Not now.

My favorite spot on Oahu is Waimanalo Beach. The reasons are personal, sentimental, spiritual and pure. I will not share them now.

But when I watched the sun set at the spot pictured on this page, I had come home to a place I'd never been before, to coin a phrase.

Yes, I am a haole. Waimanalo can never be my home in the truest sense of the word.

But, yes, I revere the people of Hawaii. I don't blame them one bit if they tire of tourists. "Waimanalo Blues" tells you why. It is poignant. It is perfect.

The version I submit to you here is performed by the late Billy Kaui and Country Comfort, circa the early 1970s. If you like the song, surf to YouTube. You will find interpretations by the late Iz and friends, and Makaha Sons of Ni'ihau.

Mahalo and aloha ahiahi ia oukou.

To catch a thief

Hope you enjoyed your weekend.

Mine was OK until I tripped at the UT game on Saturday while letting a little girl out of the aisle so she could use the bathroom.

(I know what you're thinking and, no, I hadn't had any beer.)

The fall exacerbated the pain in my already aching back and banged up a previously perfect right knee.

So, Sunday was spent quietly on the couch, off my feet, with ice, ibuprofen and NFL football to keep me company.

After a brief nap, I watched a sentimental favorite, Warner Oland in "Charlie Chan in London."

The character has become controversial in our politically correct modern era. In this case, it's a shame, for two reasons.

First, I'm a sucker for black-and-white B-movie detective flicks of the 1930s and 1940s, my other favorite being the Basil Rathbone/Nigel Bruce "Sherlock Holmes" series. The Chan series -- particularly with Oland -- is among the best.

Second, the ironic part about it is that Chan was conceived as an answer to negative Chinese characters in American popular culture at the time, especially Fu Manchu.

Author Earl Derr Biggers was inspired to write his first novel while staying at The House Without A Key in Hawaii. Chan is said to be based in part on Hawaiian detective Chang Apana.

Oland -- the best Chan -- played the character in 15 films for Fox until his death, when he was replaced by Sidney Toler (who was OK, especially before he moved to Monogram). The movies were wildly popular, both in the United States and in China. The series helped keep Fox afloat during the Depression.

Critics remain divided on Charlie Chan.

Michael Brodhead argues that "Biggers's sympathetic treatment of the Charlie Chan novels convinces the reader that the author consciously and forthrightly spoke out for the Chinese - a people to be not only accepted but admired."

John Soister argues that Charlie Chan is both a positive role model and an offensive stereotype; when Biggers created the character, he offered a unique alternative to stereotypical evil Chinamen, a man who was at the same time "sufficiently accommodating in personality... unthreatening in demeanor... and removed from his Asian homeland... to quell any underlying xenophobia."

For what it's worth, I think Chan is a good character if you take him in context of the times in which the movies were made. Like Eddie "Rochester" Anderson, an African-American who was often the smartest person on Jack Benny's radio show (and could needle Benny like no other member of the cast), Charlie Chan was smarter than everyone around him -- Caucasian or otherwise -- and, unlike so many stereotypical characters of the period (and even unlike Rochester), wasn't reduced to being domestic help, an evil thug, or a downright joke. 

I simply find the films to be fun, classic whodunits from a bygone era, especially on a Sunday night when I hurt like hell. 

$400 Million lottery? Who cares!

What?!

You say the Powerball is up to $400 million?

Big deal.

I've got silver in the stars and gold in the morning sun, to quote Don Williams.

Plus, look at this poster I won from Graceland. Yep, that's announcing the 2013 inductees to the Memphis Music Hall of Fame.

I've got everything I need, y'all.

That being said, if I do win the big payoff, next week's dateline will be  from Lahaina, Maui, Hawaii, USA.

Hey, a guy can't dream, can't he?

'If the phone doesn't ring, it's me'

Harry Orwell is giving Thomas Magnum a run for his money as my favorite TV detective.

(Yeah, Jim Rockford is up there, too.)

Harry lives on the beach. He takes the bus everywhere because he says it gives him time to think. He's debating on whether to get his vehicle's transmission repaired on principle. And, as soon as he finishes fixing up his boat (named The Answer), he's sailing out to sea. Because, as he says, "there aren't any phones there."

Well, this was the 1970s, before cellphones became ubiquitous. But I get his point.

If it were up to me, or if I were in another line of work, I wouldn't answer the darn things. These people who walk around with a phone stuck to their ear as if it were an appendage look ridiculous. Casual conversation in a restaurant is an endangered species.

I told you the other day about "Harry O." It was an underrated show starring the underrated David Janssen. I'm working my way through the two pilot movies and the first season of episodes. You don't see TV like this anymore.

I've always wanted to live near the water. I guess Norris Lake would be more realistic than Coronado, California, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, or Lahaina, Maui. But one can dream.

The interns have returned for the summer. We call them that. It's actually a six-week summer camp, if you will, in which we tour various businesses around town and try to teach them a thing or two about herding words. I joined them for lunch today at Litton's. They are all in middle or high school and have their lives ahead of them. It makes me almost envious.

I told them if they find a job they love, they will never work a day in their lives. That's mostly true.

Speaking of which, I've got to head out to an interview in a few minutes. Hope you all are having a good afternoon.

Meanwhile, I'll be dreaming about a little cottage by the coast, the surf splashing onto shore, no deadlines, no commitments. Chances are I'll be humming that Jimmy Buffett tune.

"If the phone doesn't ring, it's me." 

Maui dreamin'

My friend Dean and I had a chat last night.

We were talking about the 1995 death of our friend and my cousin Josh Ellis, its existential effects, how life has changed since then, how we have become politically adrift, no longer recognizing the Republican Party and not being able to find a home anywhere else.

I told Dean I'd be happy just to sing my songs, tell my tales, make my music, sit in the sun.

I also told him about something that happened when we were on Maui last September. Jennifer had stopped at a roadside pull-off to buy trinkets from someone who had set up shop there. I stayed in the car, admiring the high-def azure of the ocean and the sky.

And on the radio (KPOA-FM!) came a hauntingly beautiful song by Kendra Fisher, "Haleakala Medley."

"I'm never going home," I said. "I have found paradise."

Paradise found, yes, but back home I went.

But, back to Paradise I would go, if I could.

Oh, I know. Hawaii has humans and with humans come problems. As Matt King says in "The Descendants," people may think Hawaii is paradise, but cancer still kills.

Indeed. But, I think if I saw the sun rise and set over that shoreline every day, I could handle just about anything.

I'm getting tired. Tired of the partisan bickering and blathering. Tired of the self-important jackasses in this crazy town that don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Tired of the sadness and the screams and Fox News and MSNBC and Romney and Obama and the whole darn shooting match.

I want to sit in the sun and sing my songs. I want to read and write and tell my tales. I want to live. I want to love. I want you to be free to do the same.

I want the nonsense to stop. I want common sense to make a comeback.

Otherwise, buffalo chips is all it means to me, or so said Tom T.

34

"Today's my birthday. And...I'm...getting drunker!"

Before you laugh, sigh, or call my mother, that's a quote from a vintage 1997 "Saturday Night Live" satire of the then-popular A&E program "Biography." I know my friend Dewayne Lawson will remember it immediately.

Actually, I'm propped back on the couch, sporting my Hawaii Warriors hat, watching a mini birthday marathon of "Magnum, p.i." Jenn's away so I'm free to play...by watching old TV shows.

I always watch "Magnum" on my birthday. Particularly the episodes "Laura" (with special guest star Francis Albert "Frank" Sinatra), "Forty" (in which Magnum hits the big 4-0) and "Limbo" (which should have been the final episode of the series). I love this show. I want to go back to our 50th and most beautiful state. Soon. Now.

Depending on whether I can get to sleep, I'll also watch my favorite movie, the original (and best) "True Grit," with John Wayne and Glen Travis Campbell. Later today, I'll have lunch with my mom and then hang out with Halls grad and all-around great guy and guitar player Ross "Pat" Southerland. My guess is we'll dig out some old movies and cue up some tunes.

My wish for you is that you have a wonderful day, filled with love, hope, faith and laughter.

You honor me by reading this. Thank you.

Your friend,

Jake

'The Descendants' doesn't disappoint

Well, here's something you can't say every day. I saw a movie and it was almost as good as the book.

When we were in Hawaii back in the fall, I heard some buzz about an upcoming George Clooney picture called "The Descendants." It was filmed on Oahu and Kauai and was getting good marks for showing "the real" contemporary Hawaii.

I read the novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings when we returned to the mainland and really enjoyed it. Hemmings writes in a fresh, 21st-century voice, and creates vividly realized characters. I remembered seeing the trailer for the film back in the summer and awaited it with some anticipation.

But, then, that old dreaded feeling crept into the back of my mind. What if, like so many others, this turns out to be a bad adaptation of a good book?

Didn't happen.

Clooney delivers a perfectly restrained performance as Matt King, a lawyer whose wife slips into a coma following a nasty boating accident. He suddenly finds himself reconnecting with his young daughters, Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) and Scottie (Amara Miller). At the same time, he's having to finalize plans to sell longtime family property on Kauai to a business developer. Oh, and he finds out -- and I'm not revealing anything you don't see in the trailer -- his wife was having an affair at the time of her accident and planned to leave him.

Yes, "The Descendants" is a bit depressing -- I don't know why it was released during the holidays -- but it's also seriously funny, shockingly so at times, and is a moving piece about family, priorities, mortality and responsibility.

This should give Clooney some serious Oscar buzz. He takes a role in which he could have overacted and delivers a nuanced, thoughtful performance. Woodley and Miller are also picture perfect. The images I had in my mind of these pivotal characters were almost exactly what these two young actresses bring to the screen.

Oh, and I can't forget about Nick Krause as Sid, Alexandra's amusing, bumbling, pot-smoking friend. He provides some serious comic relief.

A special treat for us was seeing neighborhoods and parts of Honolulu through which we drove in October. It also made us want to hop on a plane tomorrow afternoon and spend a few days on Kauai.

For some reason, critics are complaining about Clooney's voice over. I have no idea why. It's a perfect plot device and reminded me of the book's narration. I don't see the problem.

Don't go into this film thinking you're going to see a pleasant two hours in paradise. This is a serious movie that deals with some deep and at times disturbing issues. But it's so well done, and with its oddly perfect mix of morbidity and hilarity, you simply should take it for what it is, which is a really good motion picture.

"The Descendants" is rated R.

Will film version of 'The Descendants' live up to novel's promise?

When we were honeymooning in Hawaii in late September and early October, I read a hotel magazine article about an upcoming George Clooney film called "The Descendants."

Filmed on Oahu and Kauai, the film is based on a novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings about Matt King, a Hawaiian native who suddenly becomes a de facto single parent to his two daughters when his wife slips into a coma following a boating accident. He also soon finds out she was cheating on him. And he has to decide whether to sell long-held family land to a developer.

Matt has to deal with all this upheaval while trying to figure out how to be a better parent as well as navigating the divide between him and his oldest, estranged daughter.

I remembered seeing the film's theatrical trailer over the summer and was intrigued when the director, Alexander Payne, said in the article he wanted to "see Honolulu filmed (accurately) on the big screen."

I checked the book out of the library after returning from Hawaii. "The Descendants" is a charming, quirky novel. Hemmings writes with a fresh, contemporary voice. By the time I reached the final page, I felt like I'd spent some time with three-dimensional characters.

I could write 20 blogs about the film adaptations of favorite books that proved to be disappointments. (A much shorter blog could be written about the ones I like.)

Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to seeing this novel come to life, as well as seeing contemporary Hawaii on the big screen.

"The Descendants" opens nationally this week. We'll see if the film lives up to the novel's promise.

You can see the theatrical trailer here.

I've stuck with the new 'Five-0' (and made it through the rain?)

Last fall I had my doubts about the news that CBS had decided to reboot one of my all-time favorites, the TV police drama "Hawaii Five-0."

While it comes in second to "Magnum, p.i." in my book, the original "Five-O" is considered sacred ground. After all, it's the series that single-handedly created Hawaii's TV and film industry, thanks in large part to generous donations of time and money by the show's star, the late, great Jack Lord. Lord and his "Book 'em, Danno!" catchphrase are a cherished part of TV history.

Still, Hawaii looks good in HD, that catchy theme song is back and Grace Park has been thrown in as an added bonus. What the heck, I thought.

It took a few episodes, but I quickly came to look forward to 10 p.m. (Eastern) on Monday nights. I particularly enjoyed the so-called "carguments" between the new McGarrett and Danno, as well as the latter's glib sense of humor (wonderfully played by Scott Caan).

And then somewhere toward the end of the first season, something seemed to be going horribly, horribly wrong. Out of nowhere, the last episode of the first year blew reality right out of the water. McGarrett was arrested for "murdering" the governor (try to imagine that happening to Jack Lord), the Five-0 team was disbanded, Grace Park's Kono had her badge taken away and I had no idea where all this had come from.

"Don't panic," I said to myself. "Maybe all this means Danno dreamed the entire last episode." (See "Dallas" circa the fall of 1986 if you don't get the reference.)

Season Two premiered last month and I temporarily forgot my frustration because we were headed over to Oahu on our honeymoon. In fact, we were staying right next door to the Hilton Hawaiian Village (where a lot of the new show is filmed) and would be visiting downtown at both the old and new Five-0 headquarters. So I wanted to see some scenery to whet my appetite.

SEMI SPOILER ALERT

Sure enough, they quickly explained last season's cliffhanger away (it wasn't a dream, thank God), but it also appeared the writers had no idea in which direction they wanted to take the show. Kono was apparently disillusioned, off the force, in league with bad ex-cops. New characters were popping up left and right while Grace Park's screen time had been vastly diminished.

What the heck 'em, Danno?

"I don't know if I'm going to stick with this or not," I kept telling my wife, who is also a fan. Had it not been for DVR, I probably would have given up.

"I think you and I could do a better job writing for this show," I emailed a pal, David Romas, in Michigan, who likes all things Hawaii but isn't keeping up with the "Five-0" redux.

FINALLY, last week's (10/17/11) episode explained a few things and righted the ship, so to speak. I won't give away too much more other than to say all is right in Honolulu, we were treated to a great, old-fashioned shootout at a bank, and it seems the show can take back up where it left off, mainly trying to nail McGarrett's arch enemy Wo Fat (Mark Dacascos, who's pretty slimy here, but can't hold a candle to the original's Khigh Dhiegh).

I'm glad I've hung around, if only to see what happens from here. I've heard the ratings for this season have been shaky, and if nothing else, I'd hate to lose an opportunity to spend an hour solving crimes in Hawaii each week. (New York, L.A., Philly and Miami, or what passes for them on other network cop shows, just don't have the same appeal.)

More importantly, despite trying to fill some big shoes, the new "Five-0" has shown promise. It could still survive these relatively early bumps and go on to have a decent network run.

But the next few weeks will probably tell the tale. Now that the aftershocks of the first season finale's misfire have simmered down, it's time to get back to business. Be funny, argue in the car, kick some butt, show plenty of Grace Park and even more of Oahu's natural beauty, get rid of the guy from "Lost" and any more appearances from either Billy Baldwin or Tom Sizemore. Work your way toward Wo Fat while keeping our most beautiful state safe from the bad guys.

Do all that, and "Hawaii Five-0" can catch a nice, big wave. Get sidetracked again and, well, you know what will happen. Aloha.

By and large I've always thought a hit belongs to its day, particularly in television. Does anybody remember the "Dark Shadows" revival in '91? Probably not, partially thanks to the Gulf War, partially thanks to mediocre writing and a time slot that never seemed to stand still.

Who stood enraptured over "The New Gidget"? "The New Odd Couple"? The early '90s remake of "WKRP in Cincinnati"? FOX's revival of "Get Smart" in the mid 1990s (even with Andy Dick!) lasted a mere seven episodes. Has anybody watched that horrible "update" of "Charlie's Angels" on ABC?

I want "Hawaii Five-0" to be the exception. It's a decent show, maybe as good as we're going to get in this disappointing new century. It's revived interest in the original series to the point that CBS/Paramount has released all but the 12th and final season of good ol' "Five-O" on DVD in a short four and a half years. I know it's kept some guys and gals employed after "Lost" wrapped in Hawaii a couple of years ago. Scott Caan has been an unexpectedly likable Danno. It's been great to see Al Harrington and some other old friends back on the tube again. And anytime you're filming in Waikiki is a good day.

New "Five-0" has reached a crossroads. We'll soon know whether all this was a good idea or whether the whole thing should have stayed back there with Jack Lord somewhere.

Haleakala

We were stopped at one of those roadside scenic lookouts that seem to populate Maui's coastline.

Jennifer was looking for a fishhook necklace for bruddah Keith. I had a headache and just wanted to sit in the car and ogle the ocean.

I'd tuned the radio to KPOA, an FM station that plays what it calls "Hawaiian music...Maui style." A most beautiful song began to play.

A young woman sang about going one summer morning to see the sun rise at the top of a mountain. It haunted my heart.

Sista Val, the popular DJ and music director, was kind enough to end my week of frustration and send me the name of the song ("Haleakala Medley") and of the artist (Kendra). Feel free to surf over to iTunes and check it out. You'll be glad you did.

Sitting in the car, overtaken by the Pacific, overwhelmed by Kendra Fischer's haunting harmony, I vowed then and there I wasn't leaving Maui. And, well. You know how that goes. I'll have to sell the Great American Novel about as well as Stephen King can roll out another spine-tingler, or pop the Powerball prize, in order to make that dream a reality.

And, yet, here I sit at 3 a.m., finishing an excellent novel set in Honolulu (I'll tell you more about that later), listening to Kendra's sweet song on my iPod, yearning to see the sun rise on Haleakala.

As it was rising, I could see all of my dreams, on top of that mountain, called Haleakala.

The way Kendra shares it through her song, I'm up there on the mountain, too, clearing my head, dreaming my dreams.

I have a bad habit of getting caught up in the moment, declaring that whatever I'm reading or hearing or watching at the time is the best, gosh-darn, greatest thing I've ever read or heard or seen. Well, let me tell you this as I check the hyperbole at the door: Hawaii is the most beautiful paradise I've ever seen.

It may be sooner, it may be later, but we'll be back one day, climbing the mountain, seeing the sun rise on Haleakala.

Until then, I have my memories, my contentment here at home, my loving wife and my words and rhyme.

Just don't be surprised to learn my daydreams are filled with sunsets and ocean waves, out there somewhere beyond the reef.

Still livin' and dyin' in Hawaii-Aleutian Standard Time

Last night after work the wifey and I met at Downtown Grill and Brewery for dinner. I was in South Knox for a late afternoon meeting, so I thought it would be a good excuse to eat downtown.

It was a nasty night, rainy and dreary, the kind of thing fall and winter usually bring with them. And, yet, it seemed to fit.

We sat by the front windows. I watched business types hurrying home in their three-piece suits, glad I could sit and enjoy myself during rush hour.

Bo Pierce, on Facebook, told us to pretend we were looking over the Pacific. As much as I still have Hawaii flowing through my veins, what I actually thought of was Manhattan. We were in such a spot where the buildings could have been skyscrapers and the hustle and bustle could have been ripped right out of Gotham. The rain added to the effect.

It put me in mind of that early February day we ate lunch at just such a brewery at the Empire State Building.

I want to go back to New York when we have more time to stay. Up and back was OK, but not enough.

After spending 10 days in paradise, though, I can tell you I'm still livin' and dyin' in Hawaii-Aleutian Standard Time. A New York state of mind will have to wait.

I do have one question, though. Why does the Downtown Grill NEVER have the State Street Stout in stock?

Paradise found, and lost, and found

Well, it's back to reality this week, after 10 days in paradise.

And, I guess I'll be back to blogging regularly now that the wedding is behind us. It's funny. You spend the better part of a year preparing for an event that's essentially over in 15 minutes.

Oh, well. Can't complain. Love of my life. Great weather. Great backdrop. Bunch of friends. Best family. Even WBIR-TV showed up.

Hawaii was heaven, paradise found, perfect. I'll tell you more about it in two stories running in the Shopper-News next Monday. Meanwhile, let's just say it would take Shakespeare to do it justice and I'm not so sure the Bard wouldn't have trouble telling you just how beautiful it really is. Don't take my word for it. Go see it yourself.

But, I gotta tell you about a brief moment yesterday that made me grin.

I was actually doing a pretty good job of shaking off the Monday malaise. Life is good. I enjoyed getting back into routine. You can do that when you love what you do.

But, I could still feel the islands calling, taunting, enticing me to return to its sanguine shores.

So, I flipped on the online audio feed of a station we got to listening to while on Maui. Made it worse. Turned it off.

But, as I was walking to the car last night, a woman stopped me.

"Are you Jake?" she asked.

"I sure am," I said, flashing my best Monday afternoon smile.

"I just love to read your work. We just love reading this paper so much."

I thanked her profusely, grinned again and headed home happy.

Paradise Hawaiian Style may be hard to beat, but being back home ain't too bad, either.