UPDATE: Retirement in Hawaii

It's wierd. As things happen to me, I think, "Hey, this would be great to write on my blog." And then I don't, and I write about mundane things. It's strange, actually. I see gorgeous things, and fill my time with interesting activities. Then I end up writing blogs about a piece of fruit I ate, or going to Safeway, or the wierd police cars.

But damn. I really can't get over the police cars. Hawaii County really seems to be nothing more than a corrupt Eastern European post-Communist country when you get down to it. Here, the cops are paid a hefty driving allowance to drive their own personal cars. There's some Mustangs (including a Saleen S281), Xterras, 4Runners, a fuckin' Toyota Sequoya, and even a Honda Accord. These aren't police cars. And then yesterday, I saw a shiny newish black C5 corvette idle by the restaurant I was eating at--top off, clean, polished, chrome aftermarket exhaust pipes. It was pointed out as an undercover cop; my lunch companion saw the driver was wearing a cop uniform. My point is that in these smaller, poor Eastern European countries, I imagine these ex-KGB and state security officials driving around in whatever car they want. The State pays for it, and they get to keep it. How is this different? And so few cops in so much space probably with little or no oversight, it's ripe for payoffs and paying for protection.

It sure gets dark here at night. There's no streetlights where I am. If I open my front door during a new moon and look out the front door, I cannot see a thing. Nothing. It's silent. And it's the same whether I close my eyes or keep them open. It's so trippy.

I've been making candy. Today, I made 250 pounds of chocolate covered coffee. I've just been learning. Those who I promised candy, you'll be getting it soon. It's a somewhat arduous task. They're made in 125 pound batches, and take two to two and a half hours. It's loud, and I wear a lab coat and gloves. By the end of the day, my lab coat was covered in crusted chocolate.

A strange problem is that this chocolate is all around me. The thrill has drained out of me in terms of eating this chocolate. It's always there. But yesterday was Halloween. I was reveling over eating a fun-size Twix bar. "Mmmm! Twix! I love Twix!" It's odd that 50 cents worth of candy provides more enjoyment to me now than candy that is $20 or $30 a pound.

My phone is still broken, and the new one hasn't arrived. I've been too lazy to check the messages (nobody usually calls anyway, so what's the point?). So why am I telling you this? You probably had no intention of calling me anyway, prick.