The road to Haiku...

Because we had been well warned, we didn't have very much trouble with the legendary Road to Hana on Maui when we were there last week.
We planned ahead. We bought cold drinks with bubbles. We ate a good, light breakfast. We started off early so as to avoid the crowds who would be coming with us on the narrow, winding road purported to have over 600 twists and turns, narrow bridges and endless scenic delights.
Our intrepid rental car was full of gas if not gusto so off we went.
We stopped for this and that, trying to head off any carsickness, stepped right into a dreadful mud puddle that sucked our shoes in and tossed Marc into a violent bush.
We visited the Garden of Eden with strolling peacocks, checked out off the colorful flowers and ancient trees.
Eventually we arrived at the Hana Coi Maui where we were staying the night.
The next morning, we headed back, visiting caves and beaches and lava tubes that amaze.
It was great and we only had to stop once: at the way stop for feral cats. (Apparently there are between 11,000 and 20,000 charming feral cats living in the rest stop park. The cats aren't friendly or pretty. They're skinny, hostile and everywhere!)
The real test for us everyday in regular Maui was the road to Haiku to the Bamboo Valley Inn where we were lodged for most of the trip.
It was dark when we arrived and we had this little list of instructions. "Head north to W. Kaulia road, go until you see the flag pole and mailboxes. Turn right! Follow the road to the inn. Aloha!"
We drove along. There were numerous chickens scuttling out of our way. Then suddenly, a flag pole appeared and mailboxes.
Marc turned into a road that was a little more than a dirt trail. It was bumpy and full of holes, dirt-packed with jungle on both sides.
There were junked, decaying cars all along the way until the end where there's a sign explaining that the neighbors were going through an "unfortunate" time and with some help would be cleaning things up.
At the bottom, after the car had groaned and complained most of the way down, there was the Inn, simple and sweet.
Marc went around the side to park under the carport.
That's when I heard this horrendous smashing, grinding sound as he hit the side mirror into a concrete pole.
(It looked like metal mayhem with wiring hanging out and missing portions. The car was disabled. It wouldn't go, shift into another gear or turn off.)
Long story short. The damage was really only minor. Once we called a tow truck and suffered for a while, trying to guess what this would cost, Marc went back to the scene and found the back side of the mirror. He popped it back on and "Voila!" the car came on and we were good.
(At the rental return, when the check-in girl asked if there was any damage. We were able to say, "uh, no...just a little problem with the light.)
We consider ourselves lucky and now that we're home, we can truthfully say, "We survived the Road to Haiku!"

Jumping the line...

The kids about to graduate from Lehi High School were firmly told: if they weren't in line and in place by 9:30 a.m., they wouldn't be allowed to walk.
Samantha and her parent and sisters were sitting in traffic at 9:20.
And the cars weren't moving.
She could see the event center but she couldn't get there.
"Hurry," said her mother. "Get out of the car and run!"
They did, Samantha in her cap and gown and heels with her mom alongside her.
They made it to the fence which is about six feet high.
"Hurry," her mom instructed. "We're going to have to climb it."
So, standing on her mother's shoulders, Samantha went over the fence, ripping the sleeve of her robe as she went.
"It's OK," yelled her mother. "I'll fix it when I catch up with you!"
And she did. With her handy, dandy sewing kit from her purse. Lauree mended the tear.
The adventure had a happy ending.
Samantha got into line and marched with her class, graduating in style with the class of 2018.
She looked beautiful and relaxed and you couldn't even tell it had been a stressful home stretch there.
Here's to making memories!
(I'm so glad I only had to hear about it after it turned out OK!)

Catching a flight...

I decided I wanted to go on a pricey helicopter ride over Maui.
We're going to be on the island for a second time when we go to attend Marc's son Seth's wedding and we've done the snorkeling thing, the biking thing and the luau thing. I wanted something new and exciting.
The helicopter flight seemed just the ticket.
You get to see the waterfalls and the beaches from way up in the sky.
It appealed to Marc too so I booked us two seats.
Then the crewmaster called us to make sure we understood what was involved.
First of all, there's a weight limit so the helicopter stays balanced and in the air.
Combined we could not be over a specific number of pounds. If we were over that, we would have to buy a third seat which is another $250 or not go at all.
Marc's weight put us over.
I turned to tell him the bad news.
He looked alarmed and a little angry.
"I'll just lose 20 pounds!" he said. "I can do it."
That was three weeks ago and as of today, he's lost 25 lbs. by taking sweets off his list of edible foods and curbing his portions. (We leave in three days.)
He counts every calorie he consumes and leans heavily (no pun intended) toward fruits and vegetables.
It's been impressive.
His chin re-emerged. A spring returned to his step. His clothes fit better. He can move around and tie his shoes without huffing and puffing.
He's hungry but he's happy with himself. He's almost as surprised as I am.
And now, he can officially fly over Maui with me.
Yay!!!

These nice people...

My six-year-old granddaughter thinks the world is full of fine people.
She doesn't worry about anyone having a nefarious plan for her.
She's blissfully confident that when she is in need, somebody nice will step up and help her.
And while that's good. (I want her to feel safe in her world.) It's a little worrisome.
I was talking to her the other day about what her options could be if I forget to pick her up from gymnastics class or am delayed enough that she thinks I'm not coming for her.
"Now, I will always do by best to get here before you have to worry," I told her. "But you've seen the traffic and it might be that one day I'll be late. You need to have a plan."
This beautiful little blond-haired, blue-eyed child thought it over.
"I could walk home!" she suddenly declared. "I know which way to go!"
She pointed out the window to the road. "I go on that road and then go that way!"
"It's kind of a long walk," I told her. (She lives in upper Lehi near the Bull River Road and gymnastics class is in south Lehi.)
"I could do it," she insisted. "I'm strong."
I told her it was farther than she thinks because the distance is shorter in a car than when a kid is walking.
I also pointed out that she would have to go on the freeway where there are a lot of fast cars which make it very dangerous for a kid to walk there.
Again, she thought it over.
"I know!" she suddenly blurted out. "I could ask somebody nice to give me a ride!"
I looked at her, this precious small person who had no idea what kind of chance she would be taking.
I told her mother about Mia's plan.
She gulped.
"Guess it's time to have the stranger-danger talk, huh!" she said.
Yes.
And that's too bad.

Tell me a secret, I'll only tell a few folks...

My husband will tell you, I'm no good at keeping a secret.
I always give gifts the moment I buy them because I can't wait. Usually I manage to wrap a present but inevitably there's comes along a good reason to give it to the lucky person now!
I usually give away the punchline to any joke I'm trying to tell.
I can't handle the suspense.
Couple that with Marc's tendency to be very snoopy and keeping something hush-hush is nigh on to impossible.
I've never been able to surprise Marc with anything.
Some Christmas mornings, I end up throwing him his presents because he's already figured out what he's getting.
Even now, I'm writing this as I prepare to pick him up for a surprise party his co-workers at Xactware are throwing him for his retirement.
I figure by the time I get him there and return, I can hit send and there'll be no harm.
I've known now for a couple of weeks and it's been tough for me.
I had to remember to delete emails he might see and text messages.
I couldn't share with him random thoughts I was having about the day and time.
I had to invent a little story about my grandson's preschool graduation so I would be able to persuade Marc to be at the right place at the right time and day. I felt bad about fibbing to him.
(Any of you who know Marc understand how hard it is to get him to be anywhere on time and especially if he doesn't understand the reason.)
I think this one might surprise him.
The people putting it together have been stellar.
He told me yesterday nobody at work had mentioned a good-bye lunch or anything.
I just sat there not saying anything.
It will all be over in a couple of hours and then I can relax.
Life can go back to normal with one alteration.
I'm not agreeing to keep any more secrets, ever.

'Spamalot' is hilarious, outrageous, still relevant

King Arthur of Britain and company

A few good men

"It's only a flesh wound" guy and Arthur

SPAMALOT; Grant Theatre; 1575 S. State St., Salt Lake City; book and lyrics by Eric Idle; music by John Du Prez and Eric Idle; directed by Jamie Rocha Allan; musical direction by Michael G. Leavitt; May 17-June 9; 7:30 p.m.; running time 2 hours

SALT LAKE CITY — Hilarious. Outrageous. Pretty out there.
The spoof of Camelot and Broadway musicals everywhere, the production of "Spamalot" at the Grand Theatre, is absolute sweet escapism.
The story is familiar in the way that family stories tell the "absolute truth" of what happened with a little exaggeration and humor.
It's offbeat, fairly naughty and bold.
(Don't go if you don't have a generous sense of humor. All bets are off with this show.)
King Arthur of Britain is played by David Hanson, riding confidently onto the stage on his nonexistent steed, accompanied by his right-hand man and faithful servant, Patsy (played masterfully by Scott Butler), who is clicking coconuts together to make the horse noise.
Arthur is looking for men to serve as his Knights of The Roundtable and finds a handful of men including Sir Robin played by Britty Marie, Sir Dennis Galahad, played by Jake Trumbo, Sir Bedevere, played by Stephen Sherman, and Sir Lancelot, played by Trevor B. Dean.

King Arthur of Britain explains who he is to

The Lady of the Lake and girlfriends

He finds the beautiful Lady of the Lake, played by Olivia Custodio, charming, lovely and his soulmate (except her name is Guenivere, uh oh).
He sets off on a quest to find the Holy Grail and along the way he meets the scary Knights of Ni (led by Tristan B. Johnson), Tim the Enchanter (Carson Kohler) and hears the Voice of God (Dee-Dee Darby-Duffin).
Those who loved the original 1975 Monty Python Spamalot film will enjoy revisiting the strange people and strange situations which include the soft cuddly white rabbit who ultimately tears off the head of a soldier, and the wagon full of dead men with "Not Dead Fred" among them.
Familiar signature songs, "Run Away," "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," and "I'm All Alone" are well done.
Arthur and the Lady of the Lake sing "The Song That Goes Like This" with heart and passion.
The diva's lament is woeful as a very angry Lady of the Lake realizes she's been bypassed in the story.
"Whatever happened to my part?" she demands.
If you're already a Spamalot fan, this is for you. If you're not yet a fan, here's a chance to see why this musical won Best Musical on Broadway in 2005 and launched the careers of several comics who played in it.
It's a classic born in this 100 years.
Just be aware that the scenes with the gay prince and Sir Lancelot and the male ensemble are somewhat shocking — even for today.
But it's all meant in fun.
The songs, the dances, the action and the dialogue is all done with precise timing.
The cast expressions are delightful to watch.
The costuming and the sets and props are clever and unique.
It's totally enjoyable.

A courageous lady

Right now, today, playing at the Broadway Centre Theater in inner Salt Lake is a movie called "The Judge."
It's the story of a bold, brave lady in Palestine, Kholoud al-Faqih, who sits as a judge in the Sharia court dealing with domestic issues.
She's wise, patient and thoughtful and she's the first woman ever to sit on the court. Ultimately she wants to be a chief justice. She's a problem for the patriarchy.
She's been a judge now for years, working in a world that has only respected the minds of men for centuries.
Women? They let their emotions get in the way, says one grey-haired gentleman who clearly dismisses the women who are on the earth to bear children and serve their husbands.
His opinions reflect those of much of the culture, people who are surprised when their case comes before a female judge.
Fortunately, Kholoud's father and mother believed in her education, arming her for success with schooling.
They recognized that she needed the means to care for herself.
So she became a lawyer and she studied and learned.
She took the test required for judgeship and passed.
Then she began mentoring others.
For years now she has parceled out justice to women seeking divorce from an abusive husband, required the husband to provide support, protected women from reprisals.
She's a mother, a wife (to a husband who also is a lawyer and a best friend), a trail blazer and a remarkable example of someone who want to effect change.
It's a story captured on film by Erika Cohn in the courtroom, in Kholoud's home, in the Palestinian neighborhoods and on the streets.
Cohn interviewed Judge Kholoud and her family, her husband, her associates and her teacher (who is actually opposed to women sitting on the court).
She skillfully captures the Islamic culture, the people, the frustrations, the friendships and the kinds of mountains Kholoud is trying to climb.
Here is a film that ought to get plenty of exposure and Kholoud deserves a hero's respect as she breaks ground for women while serving justice and honor.
Here is the trailer: https://www.thejudgefilm.com/