Today I climbed Diamond Head.  I am sure you know, if you have ever watched reruns of Hawaii Five-O or Magnum PI, Diamond Head is an extinct volcano serving as the towering background of the city of Honolulu.  It glistens in the sunlight, and I understand early explorers mistakenly thought this to be evidence of diamonds.  From the backside, one can see the bowl-shaped crater of the dead volcano.  The climb itself is challenging, but not overly strenous.  I make a yearly trek up Stone Mountain in Atlanta, and can attest that it is more difficult than this journey.  However, I have been anxious to make this climb ever since learning of the trip to Hawaii.  I even bought a shirt proclaiming on the front "I Climbed Diamond Head" before the fact.  Since I bought it and I am a cheapskate, I would wear it regardless.  But it is now nice not to be a vacation-shirt-hypocrite.  And some of these guys definitely can be labeled as such.  Yesterday I saw an elderly gentleman, actually a bit older than just elderly, wearing a shirt proclaiming "Official Bikini Inspector".  Could you imagine your dad, or grandfather, walking around with that message plastered across his chest?  And, thinking about being a vacation-shirt-hypocrite, I've been thinking about buying and adorning one of the popular Obama t-shirts with his patented message "I Believe".  I could take a picture, and let it be my new Blog Portrait.

The view from the top was crystal clear and, of course, beautiful.

For the afternoon we hung out at the beach for several hours.  I took a walk far to the end, probably a mile or so.  My daughter said she could see me in the distance as a large, white dot, bobbing on the horizon. I took that as an insult.  I've video of the beach I would like to post.  It shows some of the surfers and their amazing tricks.  The problem is that, inadvertantly, I also videoed a pair of lovers on the beach.  Oblivious to my camera, they are quite busy doing their thing'.  And I do not think such stuff is appropriate for my blog.  My question- what do you do when you are next to two people on the beach, doing that kind of stuff?  I would try to look in the other direction and pretend they were just part of the landscape.  It was awfully difficult.

Late tonight we transferred to a hotel on Waikiki.  It's a beautiful place.  I may or may not write more tomorrow.  They charge for internet access; heck, they charge for everything!  That's o.k.  Earlier I said that a rainy day in Hawaii is still a good day.  Being broke in Hawaii isn't so bad, either

Addendum: We walked into a small, Asian restaurant, for a bite to eat.  Along the wall they had these tiny little aquariums, maybe ten-gallon containers, imprisoning these huge fish.  This guy, pictured, must be about a foot long.  He hardly has room to turn around.  When I looked at him, it seemed he had sadness in his eyes.  Maybe this is a way for a knowing customer to come in and select his next meal?  I would like to go back and rescue the guy, if I can find a big enough bucket.

Sunday I was eager to worship with a group of fellow Christians in the area.  Checking the web I found a nearby congregation, Pali View Baptist Church in Kaneohe, the town where I am staying.  Why is attending worship important to me while on vacation?  It is not a necessity.  There have been times when I have not attending church while traveling.  I am coming to the point, though, where I think I understand more the personal value gained from connecting with fellow followers of Christ.  There is joy within the experience of corporate worship.  The occasion has evolved for me from mostly being an exercise of obedience to God, and now it is more of a meeting with God.  And at this point in life I am not nearly as suspect of church people.  Now I seek more to join with them, than to sit back and consider them.  It is all still a work in progress.

The people of Pali View were warm and inviting.  As soon as I stepped into the parking lot, I was met by a man with a kind demeanor.  He pointed me toward the front entrance.  A greeting area was provided, offering snacks while they jotted down a bit of information about myself.  I went on into the sanctuary and and found my favorite spot available, almost to the front and to the far left.  Front seats are usually available!  Several people came by to speak and offer sincere welcome.  I spoke with a tall, gregarious fellow, whom I assumed for some reason to be the music director.  Later I found out he was Steve, the pastor.  Steve, I apologize for the slight.  Oh, Pastor Steve writes a nice article for his church website.

The mechanics of the worship experience were a bit different from what I am accustomed.  I rush to interject that different is not bad!  There were no hymns of the faith, but only praise choruses.  Personally I believe hymns to have great message and meaning, and would not want to abandon them on a regular basis.  The praise songs were nice.  The music director played a guitar, his wife the piano, and a chorus of about 6 persons helped lead the songs.  Pastor Steve wore casual slacks and a traditional Hawaiian shirt.  His sermon?  I want to try to be careful, because I think preachers can too easily criticize one another.  There is a reason why this man is their preacher.  Apparently his style and substance are preferred by this congregation, and perhaps most appropriate to minister to the surrounding culture with the gospel?  He read the sermon, verbatim I think.  He gave me no cause to open my Bible and consider scripture.  And the invitation to Christ was very brief, and I think weak.  But, hey, I guess they all cannot be great preachers like PastorDave (written with heavy sarcasm and not an ounce of sincerity!).

The church is kicking off an evangelism focus, using material by Bill Hybels, called Just Walk Across The Room .  I'd like to learn more about this tool of natural, friendship outreach.

For the afternoon, we went to the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet .  It is a huge flea market/bazaar, encircling the parking lot of the Aloha football stadium.  I bought some t-shirts, and wish I could get one for all my blogging friends.  Thy are 8 for $20, so I just may!  I also got a silly Hawaiian hat.  So now I can proudly walk around, wearing my souvenier shirt and hat, shorts, black socks and dress shoes and look fully the part of the tourist!  I guess a beer-gut would complete the picture, and a few more huge buffets should take care of that matter.

I met a hippie-looking fellow at the flea market, and I think his name was Bill .  He was selling some cheap items, laid out in the grass.  What intrigued me was his old rusty van with JESUS nervously scrawled on the side.  I learned he basically lives in his van.  And he has Hepatitus C!  I quickly scanned my memory banks and remembered this could not be passed on through conversation and handshakes, and calmed down.  Bill committed his life to Christ about 7 years ago, and seemed quite sensible and personable.  As I walked away, he said it was nice to meet, and that maybe we will meet again?  Yep, I might see Bill's old rusty van pull into my driveway one day.  Maybe he should preach a sermon at Pali View?  I'll call pastor Steve and see if we can arrange it.

HONOLULU AT NIGHT.  Spectacular sight from the mountains.

NEW FRIEND I MET IN CHINATOWN.  She seemed a little stiff, a bit wooden.

 

Today we went snorkeling at the Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve .  My son and daughter caught on rather easily, while Debbie and I were slower to learn.  Soon, however, we found ourselves exploring all around the reefs.  Peering through the top of the water one could see an amazing array of aquatic creatures.  I saw fish big and small of a rainbow of colors.  And I saw what looked to be eels and tiny squid-looking creatures.  It was a mesmerizing world just below the surface.  The fish seemed almost tame.  But, whenever tempted to reach into a nook to feel what was inside, I would remember the little boy whom I saw earlier, screaming in pain and fear as something took a bite of his hand.  I think he was o.k., but it was a reminder this was nature, not an aquarium.  After several hours of swimming and exploring, I found myself quite tired but also quite happy.  I would recommend this as a top place to visit for anyone coming to Oahu.

      
For the evening, we enjoyed a dinner cruise and show on the Alaii Kai , purported to be the world's largest catamaran.  It is a large, three tiered boat.  The trip was for two hours.  The buffet was quite good.  However, the tables of food were quickly moved so the show could proceed.  And, I would generally rather eat than watch a show!  The entertainment consisted of assorted Polynesian performers skillfully dancing.  They were a portly bunch, and fun to watch.  A gentlemen behind me, from Paraguay, was highly inebriated and insisted upon dancing with the performers.  He was embarassingly entertaining, and I'm sure his wife kicked his tail the next day.  We visited with some nice people, and also went atop the boat to enjoy the breeze and the setting sun.

Last night I was sitting on the porch of the cabin, looking out into the bay.  I noticed lights coming up from the water.  There were four pairs of lights, swirling in circles and moving slowly about the area.  It was puzzling to watch, and I could not help but wonder what was happening.  I determined it was either a scuba diving exercise by the Marines, or an extraterrestrial visit.  But, since then, I've been thinking a bit more.  These young men on the Marine Base are filled with energy, wonder, and foolhardiness!  Likely some of them were out in the bay, at midnight, snorkeling with flashlights!  

 

Tonight at dinner I found myself seated next to a veteran of the Vietnam War.  I was telling him of how proud I was of my son, now serving in the Marines.  He asked if I served in the military?  I told him no, and then felt the need for a bit of an explanation.  I told him that I was pretty much a naive and idealistic kid as I was going through High School, and that I formed my opinions about the war and military service from what I read in the newspaper and viewed on network television.  Both were slanted in opposition to the war and I readily swallowed their less than objective news, hook-line-and-sinker.   Thus, as I was moving toward graduation, the Vietnam War was winding down.  As a High School kid, I had a disdain for military service.  I told this veteran and military retiree that, at the time I was 18 years of age, I would have rather escaped to Canada than to have served in the military.  Then I made sure to look him in the eye and say, "At the time I was a stupid kid."  I very much respect how this man responded.  He could have wrapped himself in the flag and love of country, and punched my face.  Instead, he said, "As an American, you had that right.  No problem."

What an awesome freedom we have as American citizens.  With freedom and without fear, we can peacefully protest even sacred elements of our society.  Opposed to government or religion or anything else considered sacrosanct by others?  The law and the Constitution gives to you that right.  Then, amazingly, men like my new acquaintance and my son, are willing to risk their lives so I can have that freedom.  Amazing!

Today, I toured the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor.  I heard the story of the invasion and subsequent deaths of thousands of our young men.  And I gazed down into the murky waters at the sunken ship.  The water is still colored with the oil from the ship, even though the event ocurred almost 70 years ago.  I took a moment to consider that the bodies of over 1100 American soldiers were entombed in the waters below.  Just boys, very much like my son.  Boys who loved their country.  Boys who died to provide freedom for 18-year-old smug idealists like myself.  I saw the flower petals dropped upon the water by an elderly man in the crowd.  All was hushed and the air was heavy.  And I felt tears in my eyes.  It is crazy, and absolutely unfair, that young folk have to die in war.  I would sure like for us to find a better way to handle international differences.  I would hate to think that one day I would have to visit the tomb of my boy who died in military service.  Like the 1100 who died on the Arizona.



On the drive back to the cabin, I needed a break from the heaviness of the previous experience.  My son guided us to a great place to eat- Teddy's Bigger Burgers .  It's a fast food establishment with artery-busting meals.  The burger was fantastic.  Sadly, the only picture I have from the occasion is of the silly sign below.  To me, there seems something ludicrous about forbidding cigarettes at a greasy hamburger joint.  And if it were not so late at the moment, I am sure I could share some appropriate analogies.

Today was rainy.  But, hey, a rainy day in Hawaii still is not too bad!  We drove up to the north shore to do a bit of sightseeing and to visit Waimea Falls . 

Along the roadside I noticed the following sign.  I was determined to stop for a picture, even though cars buzzed by at a high speed and dangerously close.

I am not sure you will be able to read the details. 


Obviously some native Hawaiians are not happy with the Westernization and affluence of the culture.  In some ways I sympathize, for I am sure history is rife with mistreatment of the original people of this place.  And such is true concerning indigenous people of most any place, anywhere in the world.  It is an unfortunate characteristic of human history that the simple and vulnerable are exploited by the stronger.  However, just looking around, it does not appear to me that these people are suffering too much.  About 3 million tourists visit this place annually.  It is an amazing place of beauty.  And everything costs too much.  The sales taxes are high, parking is at a premium, food twice the cost as in the states, etc.  Who benefits from these costs?  Those who call Hawaii their home.  I suspect many of these native Hawaiians may have a dislike for the invasion of their culture, even as they fill their bank accounts and reside in their lush homes.


Pretty flowers.  This place is lush with flowers, trees, greenery, etc., surely much as would be a jungle.  Yet there seems always to be a gentle breeze.

 The falls.  I thought they would be more spectacular.  Still, it is a worthwhile sight.



Mother hen protects her chicks under her wings.

Tomorrow we visit Pearl Harbor and the Arizona Memorial.

We spent several hours driving the perimeter of the Eastern and Northern coasts of the island.  The communities are small and, seems to me, the lifestyles rather simple.  I am surprised and refreshed to see that this place resembles little so many of the coastal communities of Georgia and Florida, of which I am familiar.  There, the real estate seems exclusively the property of hotels, motels, and million dollar owners.  I do not know how the people and government of Hawaii have kept this gorgeous place from becoming the private playground of the rich and connected, but my hat is off to them.  Lots of modest people seem to own coastal property.  I see few billboards and commercial businesses have a low-impact presence.  Now, Honolulu is much more commercialized, and reminds me much of most big cities stateside.  I spent quite a while earlier today trying to navigate traffic jams and crowded streets, and was relieved to get away.  My commitment is to stay away as much as possible.

The drive up the East coast was relaxing.  We enjoyed the mountains and valleys, and the beaches which seem to run all the way up to the feet of those gigantic vertical walls.  We stopped at a fruit stand, and there I enjoy the give-and-take of the local proprietor.  She was obviously native Hawaiian, elderly, and I think toothless.  And she was quite pushy with her sales technique, although I personally sensed from her an endearing quality.  Maybe that is why I bought more than I needed, for too much money?  We bought and quickly consumed fresh mangos, coconut, dragon eyes (a favorite of mine, that I have not eaten in quite some time), and tiny little bananas.  They were delicious.

Further along the road, at a modest tourist shop, I met Fawwaz Jubran.  As we looked through the t-shirts and trinkets, he quickly handed nice little shell necklaces to all of us.  Of course it was a sales technique to obligate us to buy something.  And it worked.  I did not mind, and soon found myself in conversation with the jovial man.  He is originally from Lebanon, and once visited my part of the world, even traversing the mall near my home.  Playing in the background as we talked was a strange, eclectic music.  It was a mixture of Hawaiian and country/folk.  I asked about it, and his face lit up.  It was him!  Fawwaz has dreams of hitting it big as a music artist.  He promotes his music on various internet venues, and apparently to every customer who comes his way and gives him the chance.  Below, I pass along to you his picture and links to his music.  He told me he hoped his music would promote universal love of all mankind, regardless of religion, politics, or nationality.  Since Fawwaz told me he was Lebanese, I asked if this included love for the Jewish people?  Without hesitating, he gave a resounding yes.  I like the guy, and wish him the very best.  Maybe he will make it big one day?

What a wonderful place I have found.  I'm feeling relaxed and energized.  Thanks for coming along!

Fawwaz on cdbaby

Fawwaz on Facebook

My amazing daughter, Krystal.

We arrived in Oahu around 7 p.m., which would be 1 a.m. my accustomed time.  The trip involved a 5 hour flight to San Francisco, a four hour layover, and then another 5 hour flight to Hawaii.

The trip started out with a challenge.  We made the reservations in January with confirmed seats that were together.  When we arrived, they had us sitting apart, all three in the dreaded center seats!  They claimed no record of affirmed seat assignments, although we had it in writing.  So I had to make a quick decision on my part not to let this sour my vacation.  I can be combative by nature, so it took a bit of attitude adjustment.  Still, when we get back home, I think I will revisit the complaint and see if Delta might at least assuage us with some kind of discounts or something of that nature.

On the way to San Francisco, the people on either side were quite pleasant folk.  The lady to my left was an advocate for the SPCA, which I found to be quite interesting.  And the gentleman to my right had an Ipod Touch, a toy which I long to acquire.  I showed him my ancient Palm Tungsten t/3, and he just laughed.  And the lady on the other side did not seem to like my collection of photos of chicken fights.  Just kidding. 

I would have loved to take a couple of hours to see something in the amazing city of San Francisco.  I did visit the city many years ago, and still remember walking across Golden Gate Bridge and riding the cable cars.  However, we ended up hanging out at the airport.  We rode the monorail, checked out the shops, and at some high-priced food.  I noticed they seem to take recycling quite seriously in SF, for there were specific refuse containers for all variations of trash.  Hey, more power to them!

We are staying at a cabin on the Kaneohe Marine Base, about 30 miles north of Oahu.  And I would venture to say this place seems a world and a half away from anywhere I have ever been before.  It compares somewhat to the Forida Keys, another fabulous other-world-place, but the breeze is sweeter, sun more golden, and the beaches even nicer.  Below are a few pictues.  I'll be sharing more in the following days.  Here's warning that, likely, I'll not check my spelling or worry too much about deep thoughts.  These ten days are much about family, rest, and of course connecting with God.  But analysis will have to wait!

 

 Here is an interesting tile mosaic at the SF Airport. 

 

 

 Maybe it is just the kid in me, but I love to watch and consider the clouds outside the window.  They look to me like big balls of soft cotton.  And, yes I do allow my imagination a bit of freedom.  I think of bouncing ontop for hours and hours.  What a fun time it would be.

So, how were your early morning sights, sounds, and breeze?

(Note: This post is also shared at Vox.  Check it out- it may be a good place to cross-post)

In less than two days I will be off to Hawaii for ten days!  I have never been to an island, except for Goat Island in the middle of the Tennessee River.  I have never been further west than California, and that to visit family.  So this is an exiting time.  I sit in my office having a hard time concentrating on my sermon for tomorrow.  Earlier today while getting a haircut the barber made mention of the ever increasing bald spot atop my head.  Generally I try to ignore such insults.  But it got me to thinking that maybe my head, and then the rest of me, may get sunburned.  Further I thought about my white, pasty complexion, healthy from a dermatological point of view but too touristy on the beaches of Hawaii.  So I purchased a bottle of sunless tanning lotion and tried it out.  Now I’m orange.  I wonder how that will appear in Waikiki?

My wife and I have been on a diet.  Once a day we replace a meal with a protein drink substitute generously called a smoothie.  It is actually pretty good, natural and filled with vitamins and supplements, and most importantly it knocks out the hunger for several hours.  We are going to try to continue this regimen while on vacation.  To save space, Debbie put the powder into little individual plastic bags.  So we have about ten quarter-pound plastic bags of white powder in our suitcase.  When I saw the product of her hard work and ingenuity, I asked aloud what would be the possibility of this causing trouble with airport security?  I can only imagine the background checks and body cavity searches that would ensue.  Perhaps this would be our ticket to Guantanamo instead of Oahu?  So we put the powder back into the original container.

There’s fun and sun ahead.  I think.  My intention is to write a daily post.  I am not a daily-post kind of guy.  As you know, I will generally put out about two per week.  But I will try to make it interesting, and hope you will tune in.  Pictures will be included.

I will be the orange guy with the bald spot.

(Note: This post is also shared at Vox.  Check it out- it may be a good place to cross-post)

It has been tradition for my daughter and I to climb Stone Mountain on Easter Sunday morning.  She is now 23 years of age, and quite independent, and I feel honored that she still wants to spend time with her dad.  So about a month ago I started conditioning for the event.  I had allowed myself to become rather lax with exercise and thus had put on about twenty pounds since the last excursion up the massive granite outcropping.  But, by the time Sunday arrived, I was prepared.  We left at 5 a.m. for the drive over to the park.  It is a big and beautiful State Park boasting of trails, campgrounds, lakes and rivers, and of course it's namesake.  The bald, rock obelisk can be seen from miles away throughout Atlanta.  I understand it has a checkered past, once being used as a gathering place for KKK cross burnings.  The old folk of my church talk of times, long ago, when they would gather with friends for picnics around the mountain.  Back then, they say, was a dirt road leading to the top.  Now, however, are only two ways to the top.  You can ride the gondola, a hug cable-car, up the mountainside.  It costs $9.  Krystal and I agree it is for sissies.  Or you can hike the one-and-a-half-mile trail.  It is admittedly steep and even dangerous in places.  Yet there is quite a sense of accomplishment when you reach the top.

The intent is to attend the Easter Sunrise service at the top.  It is inspiring to see the sun peeking over the horizon as the message of the resurrection of Christ is proclaimed.  Of course, the wind is always blowing ontop Stone Mountain.  And when it is about 20 degrees, the breeze can feel fierce.  I enjoy hearing a good sermon, but not when I am freezing to death.  As I recall the minister entered into a rather protracted spiel about her conversion experience while visiting the Holy Land, and in particular at the location of the Garden of Gethesemane.  I tried to concentrate.  But under my breath I was pleading, "Please end this thing, so I can get off this mountain and thaw out!"  I know such was not very spiritual.  And I also suspect similar prayers are directed, on my behalf, even within our comfortable sanctuary.  

And so the sermon ended.  It was much easier to descend the mountain.  We found a cozy place to breakfast and visit.  Then it was on to church and a resurrection celebration with our church family.

I love Easter.  To me it is the most meaningful holiday for the Christian church.  I love all the symbolism even though we Baptists generally shun such ritual and design.  But on Easter Sunday it all seems appropriate.  The lilies trumpet His victory.  The cross is empty and covered with flowers.  And the sun comes up with all its glory, proclaiming His warmth and light for all to witness.  Therefore I climb a mountain with my daughter at 5 a.m., Easter Sunday morning.

Billy Bob Thornton Interview

Just came across this interview with Billy Bob Thornton.  Apparently he is now a musician, serving as the drummer and I-think-frontman for an eclectic group called the Boxcutters.  There are three things I now know about Billy Bob:
(1) He has a redneck name.  I have known and liked several Billy Bobs.
(2) He's a good actor.  I enjoyed his craft immensely in Sling Blade, The Alamo, and The Astronaut Farmer.
(3) Either he is a jerk, substance abuser, or a combination of both.  I vote for the first.

I do not expect you to watch this entire interview.  It is excruciatingly boring, except for the strange behavior of Billy Bob.  Perhaps he is doing a Joaquin Phoenix impersonation?  If so, he fails.  I watched the bizarre interview with Phoenix on the David Letterman Show.  He behaved strangely.  Still, there is the sneaking suspicion he is pulling one over on the public, that his acting efforts are in full swing during this music phase of his career, and that he will emerge with an award winning documentary somewhere down the line.  Also, Phoenix does not degrade into meanness in his behavior.  Such cannot be said about Billy Bob.  He seems to have a huge chip on his shoulder.  The interviewer has a valid point- without Thornton's notoriety because he is a popular actor, this music group would be going nowhere.  It is silly, even ludicrous, that Billy Boy would get his dander up when such is acknowledged.  And I feel pity for his fellow band members as they sit embarrassed and uncomfortable during his spincter-squeezing parts of the interview.

And so I now wish for Billy Bob Thornton failure with his career.  May he lose much money and have trouble landing star roles in upcoming films.  May those he treats with such contempt come to shut their doors in his face.  May his silly little music career come to an abrupt end.  Then maybe, somewhere along the way, he will learn that he has been blessed.  His exalted place in life is the result of much more than his considerable talent.  Somewhere along the way, for some reason known only of God, Billy Bob Thornton was lifted in life beyond what he deserved.  Sure he worked hard.  Sure he was talented.  But, equally so are tens of thousands of other actors.  Why is Billy Bob not waiting tables or playing bars far from Hollywood?  The blessing is because of much more than how wonderful this man apparently thinks himself to be.  May he fall upon his face.  It would sure be good for him.

Mom has a guy wanting to marry her.

She told me about him several days ago.  I asked what she thought about him.  She said he was a nice man, and a good cook, but was not much to look at.  I responded with a quizzical laugh, when she added, “Well, I guess I’m not much to look at either.”  Actually I think she is quite well preserved for 88 years of age.  She has made herself mostly a recluse in a high-rise apartment complex for Senior Citizens.  So, I am happy that someone wants to socialize with her.  However I very much wish he would limit his intentions to simpler matters like potluck meals, puzzles in the lobby, and Friday night bingo.  But, apparently he has marrying on his mind.

I met him yesterday.  He’s not much to look at. 

We returned from the hospital.  That’s right, Mom spent three days in the hospital recovering from what appears to have been a precursor to a stroke.  We were anxious for her to settle in for an evening of rest when a knock came upon the door.  As I opened, the fellow sort of pushed his way inside and insisted upon taking a seat.  And he stayed.  Reluctantly I made conversation with him for about thirty minutes, and throughout the exchange he regularly made reference to his wife of 50-plus years.  She passed away less than two years ago.  And, he is obviously lost and lonely.  Almost I felt pity and humor for the guy, except that I knew he was angling for my mom.

He had a gift for her, to go along with the collection of other items of romantic bribery piled over in the corner of the room.  I do not remember the nature of the innocuous and useless objects, except for a bluish-green ceramic mountainside that he proudly told me he had bought at a yard sale for $2.  Dangling from his hand was a tin-can robot pieced together with rivets and wires.  “It’s yours,” he beamed her way with glistening dentures and watery eyes.  And I agree it was a striking work of art.  It stood about a foot high, sardine cans for feet and coke-bottle lids for eyes.  The body was refuse from a large can of beans, and hands were the dangerously sharp snippings of soft drink containers.  Mom seemed pleased.  “Oh you shouldn’t!” she gushed, as she hugged the old coot.  He cooed brightly.  “I sell ‘em for $20, but yours is free!”

Well, I had enough of this.  It was time for me to leave.  They need to date at least a year before they even consider marriage.  I called my brother and asked if we need to corner the guy somewhere in a dark hallway and do something to change his mind?  He did not think it was a good idea.  But I am going to have a serious talk with the guy.  There are plenty of other chicks in the henhouse besides my mother.