A Slow Morning, A Competent Slayer Of Paper, A Walk Through Waikiki, A Slow Night Without Stars

I took it slow through the morning. Reading and a couple of cups of Awake tea on the lanai. I was saving my energy for the afternoon. My plan was to get over to Art On The Fence. It's a weekly showing of art by local artists. They hang it on the fence surrounding the zoo at the east end of Waikiki. It happens every Saturday and Sunday, rain or shine. There is always a broad array of styles and materials and content and on previous visits I have come away with a different and wider appreciation of creativity different from my own.
But it's not to be. I spend too long at the Royal Hawaiian Shooting Gallery. Located on the fourth floor of the Royal Hawaiian Shopping Centre, the gallery offers you a variety of firearm experiences, short of actually being shot yourself. I have come here for some research into the practical use of firearms. The last time I had any shooting experience was back in the mid '80s and a lot newer technology is being used. I am looking for information, and a shooting experience so that I have some knowledge and experience to draw on while writing about such things.
I have left this part of my research until mid trip because I want to let some time pass between shooting and having to go through airport scanners. I want to make sure any gunpowder residue is well and truly washed off. Kurt signs me up to shoot with a Glock 9mm, a Beretta 92 9mm, a Heckler and Koch .45 carbine rifle, a Colt Model 1911-A1 classic .45 automatic, an two revolvers one in .357 Magnum and one in .44 Magnum. We have a nice discussion on differences in gun laws between Canada and the US, and about the domestic wildlife differences we face between my hometown (bears, deer, raccoons, coyotes, etc) and Honolulu (wild boar in the hills). George takes me through a safety course and teaches me shooting stance, hand placement in different style grips, and other safety issues. We also talk a lot about cameras. He really likes my Olympus PEN EL-P2. On the range Bryan makes sure I have ear and eye protection in place, and I discover a small problem. I have difficulty lining up the sights on some of the guns because of my progressive lens eyeglass prescription. My eyesight is not so bad however to notice a number of bullet holes in the ceilings just above the shooting stations. Bryan explains that some people have had accidents cocking triggers while their fingers are still on triggers. My shooting skill is just average which is what I expect after many years without practice. However, just like so many years ago I still possess enough skill and talent to put enough bullets into paper targets to kill them. Overall I am unlikely to ever have the need to kill, wound, or maim pieces of paper, but if the need does arise I have great self confidence that I shall be able to acquit myself proudly.
Research done I find it's now well after 3. I have been in the shooting range for over 2 hours. I have missed my window to see Art On The Fence for this trip, so I just wander down Kalakaua Avenue. I stare in shop windows, ignoring the Ferrari store, the handbag shops, and dress shops. These all carry the kind of brand names and brand prices that would easily suck up most peoples monthly mortgage payments if they chose to buy anything. I ignore them like I ignore reality TV. I do stop in the lobby of the Moana Surfrider. I want to check on my reservation. Because I extended my trip after booking the Sheraton Waikiki, they were unable to accommodate my request to stay an extra week, so I'm moving a block over to the oldest, yet grandest hotel in Waikiki.More on this hotel in coming posts, and be prepared to see some great pictures.
Pleased that my reservation is intact I press on.
Just past the Surfrider is where the open spaces of the beach begin. Surfboard rentals, instructers, small shaded areas all vie for space.

There is a smell of sea air, warm sand, and suntanning products in the air. Just past the Police Substation is the statue of Duke Kohanamoku, Hawaii's first Ambassador of Aloha. Surfing great, movie actor in 20's and 30's, and Sheriff of Honolulu from 1934 to 1960. So they built a welcoming statue to celebrate his life and spirit.

I walk all the way to the end of the beach, take one last shot, and head back on the other side of the street.

The other side of the street has fewer high end shops. Instead there are 5 for $20 t-shirt places, along with Burger King, ABC Stores, more cheap t-shirt joints, and the International Marketplace. The International Marketplace has turned into a cluster of a lot of cheap t-shirt places, a lot of tacky jewelery places, some dodgy looking fortune teller places, and buried in the back, more t-shirt and jewelery places. I thought I saw a temporary tattoo place but I couldn't swear to it. There used to be a bar upstairs where my parents used to go, but it's closed and has a For Lease sign on it. I leave the market without one smidgen of regret and go to drown my expectations at Buffett's At the Beachcomber. I figure that since it's Sunday in America there has to be a football game on TV. And when there is a football game on TV the Landsharks are a reduced price, and so are the Waimea wings. Being a savvy consumer how could I possibly refuse such a deal?
On the way out I stop at the Margartiville store downstairs to get some t-shirts and a couple of Jake Shimabukuro CD's including his latest one Peace, Love, Ukulele. Believe me it's better than it might sound.
By the time I get back to my room sunset is over and in the dying light I see a lot of cloud cover where the sun usually goes down. I wonder if I missed a good one or a bad one.
I settle down in the dark with a gin and tonic and can't see any stars. The clouds are still there, so I sit and think of nothing at all until bedtime. And I'm happy to do so.