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September 2002
Aloha Spicoli: I recently got back from a trip to Hawaii with my fiancée, who just finished taking the California Bar Exam (and if that torture doesn’t warrant a trip to the islands, I don’t know what does). This was the first vacation I’ve taken in my entire adult life. You see, the good thing about playing music for a living is that I am lucky enough to do what I truly love and get paid for it. The bad thing is that I can never stop. In a business where whole careers often go from humble beginnings to the heights of worldwide superstardom to degradation, financial ruin and obscurity in about six to eight weeks, taking a week and a half off to sit on a beach is a major leisure commitment.Besides getting a flaming sunburn on the beach (I’ve been in Southern California for 12 years and still haven’t managed to lose my pasty-white New Jersey skin tone), we took a charter boat to Kawai’s Na ‘Pali Coast where we explored sea caves and swam with shark (yes, just the one – one was enough). We also rode in a doorless, windowless chopper over the inaccessible, indescribably beautiful Kawai interior. After that, we were off to the Big Island, where the volcano Pu‘u ‘o’o (I’m not making that up) happened to be erupting. We hiked two miles out to the flowing lava and baked in the heat as it slowly oozed past us. In spite of a few adventurous islanders roasting hot dogs and marshmallows over the molten magma, I was still quite forcibly reminded of my smallness in the scheme of things. After that, we headed to the bottom of the Big Island and visited the Southernmost Place in the United States (further south than Key West, even) and the ancient Hawaiian “Place Of Refuge,” where – back before the missionaries came and stopped all the fun – an accused criminal would be absolved of his crime if he could run or swim there without getting caught by the pursuing mob. Otherwise, it was death by knife, fire, or a club to the skull. Those ancient Hawaiians did not fuck around. In Kona, I stocked up on the best coffee beans on the planet at Bay View Coffee Farm, and procured a few Smokin’ Ass cigars at the Bad Ass Coffee Company, and then moved on to what the locals call “A Bay” (that’s short for Anaehoomalu Bay, by the way…even those fluent in the Hawaiian tongue have deemed that one a mouthful), where we continued our exhausting schedule of eating, sleeping, and sitting on the beach all day. It was a tough gig, but somebody had to do it! We also snorkeled with moray eels, barracudas, and endangered Green Sea Turtles. Actually, between the hiking and the snorkeling, I got more exercise in 4 days than I’ve gotten in my whole sorry life. I’m not kidding! At one point, in order to get in the car, I had to fall into the seat, and then lift my legs up and in with my hands. A 36-year old guy trapped in the body of an 87-year old. Actually, that’s not true – there are quite a lot of 87-year olds in far better shape than me. We flew home to L.A. on August 14, and on August 16 I was sitting on a stage in Massachusetts…back on the road as if the whole thing had never happened. “The smell of sulfur is strong, but not unpleasant to a sinner.” Mark Twain Love, Bob
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