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Written by Lorrin Heleloa

User Rating: 4 / 5

When I was about nine years old, my dad would regularly take me with him on weekend nights to his favorite hang-out, BarbeQue Inn on Kalakaua Ave. in Waikiki. All the locals stopped by and played Bumper Pool and Shuffleboard. The owners, Francis and Helen Uyehara were also our landlords where we lived nearby, behind Lippy Espinda's Car Lot, in a small apartment building.

Francis would keep me busy with popcorn, unlimited Coca-Cola and quarters for the Jukebox. If it was an all-nighter, I would fall asleep in one of the booths or go next door to the Shangri-La Bar and hang out with "Auntie Rose", one of the bartenders there.

One night in particular, the Primo beer was flowing like a cloudburst up in Manoa Valley. BarbeQue Inn was packed and the usual dollar game at the Bumper Pool table was a betting frenzy. My dad was teamed up with one his his pals named Tony and they were cleaning up. Tony always had his ukulele with him and would pull it from this decorated black and silver trimmed case to serenade the boys between shots.

Their toughest competition was a guy they called "Atta" and a drinking buddy of my dad's I remembered from the Kai'o'o Drive house we used to live at, Gabby. As it neared closing time Francis shut the doors, turned off the neon sign, closed out the register but left the ice chest lid open so everyone who was left could help themselves. "Atta" went to his car and brought back an Autoharp and someone gave Gabby a guitar from their trunk.

For the next couple of hours, I sat on a barstool and heard some of the sweetest, hilarious, melodic, and raucous mix of music and chatter I can remember to this day. There were no more than 10 people there, but they all had wonderful voices, including my dad's falsetto which always impressed me. I don't think Tony Bee, Arthur Lyman and Gabby Pahinui jammed together after that night again but I count myself very fortunate to have seen and heard this incredible Late Night Jam Session.

Born Queens Hospital, July 1948. Attended St. Augustine's in Waikiki through 5th grade. Moved to mainland 1959. Short stint McKinley H.S. 1964 but graduated Narbonne H.S. in Harbor City 1966. 3 years Vietnam (1967-1970) USN. 10 years HPD, Truck Driver for 20 years, currently School Bus Driver, Garden Grove Ca. School District.

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Written by Steve Yagyagan

My maddah and faddah used to own one lunch wagon business wen I was one small boy growing up on Waialua's North Shore. Da wagon was named, "Pua Mana" (Sea Breeze). It wuz one baby blue lunch wagon wid da name Pua Mana in script. My maddah and faddah used to prepare all da food, drive to da sites, sell to da customahs, and maintain'em every weekend. We used to sell plate lunch fo $1.25, hamburgah an hot dog fo $0.35, soda fo $0.25, an chips, candy an shave ice fo $0.10. Cheap yeah?

Anyway, aftah a few years, dey got tired of too much hana hana dat dey decided fo sell'em to one nuddah guy. I miss dat lunch wagon. Wuz good fun riding inside wid all da bumpy roads. My folks used to sell at da surf spots like Chuns -- First Opening and Second Opening, at da Mokuleia Polo Field, an at da Chicken Fight, which moved from place to place to avoid da vice squad raids.

Da chicken fight is anuddah story. Everybody know each udda so dey knew wheya da next chicken fight would be. I always wondered if some of da vice squad guys wuz moles fo da chicken fight organizahs. Hmmm...

At da surf spots, da guys had deya own language and body language as opposed to da chicken fight guys an da polo field crowd. Da surfahs had dis stance, like dey wuz da Leaning Towah of Pizza. Dey had one towel wrapped around deya waist an dey hands wuz fisted up inside da bottom of dey tee-shirt and dey would say, "I can have one curry beef plate wid extra rice and macaroni salad. An I like one root beeya drink."

At da chicken fights, had one mix crowd but mostly da old Filipino plantation workah guys. Dey had heavy Ilocano accent so wen dey wen place deya order, my mom would crack up. Da convahsation went something like dis:

Manong: Hello Mishes

Mom: Hoy manong. What can I get fo you today?

Manong: Mishes, you get di chicken adobo plate today?

Mom: Yes, manong. You like me make you one plate?

Manong: Ass di one I like, mishes. I like dat one berry, berry much (rolling his r's). I like di way you cook it, mishes. You'rrre a Some-whun (Samoan) but you know how to cook Pilipino pood berry well.

Anyway, az just one snippet of da convasation between my maddah and one of da chicken fightas.

At da polo field, dey was kinda high makamaka so da language was propah. Firss of all, had mostly haoles and dey wuzn't really into plate lunches. Dey would ordah hot dogs and hamburgahs. Heeyah is wot I heard:

Customer: Hello, I'd like two hot dogs and two hamburgers. Could you make sure the burgers are cooked well, ma'am?

Mom: Sure, I can do dat, miss.

Customer: Oh, that would be just fabulous. And, I'd also like four sno-cones as well.

Mom: Okay, miss, do you mean the shaved ice?

Customer: Oh, yeah. I guess that's what you call it here. And can I get them in these flavors? Cherry, strawberry, pineapple and rainbow?

Mom: Okay, miss, we can do dat. Would dat be all fo you today?

Az how dose convasations went.

Now, da Chicken fight, dey had deya own language too. I used to crack up listening to da guys bet on da chicken.

Guys would walk around da ring, hold up deya kala and yell out deya bets in hopes dat somebody wuz goin' take dem up on 'em. So dey would say phrases like:

"Fi dollah, young boy! Young boy, fi dollah right heyah" Dey wuz coaxing people to bet against deya choice. In dis case, da young boy was da youngah guy who holding his prized fighting cock.

Sometimes, da guys would yell out, "Jess, Fat Boy! Jess on Fat Boy!" Dis meant dey wuz betting ten dollahs on da momona guy's chicken to win. "Jess" really wuz meant to be da Spanish word fo da numbah ten. I wen juss spell 'em phonetically (Ho boy! Beeg word, yeah?).

Annada time da guys wen use age (gender) wen dey wuz betting, "Fi dollah, ole man! Fi dollah, ole man!"

Wuz hilarious listening to some of dose names. I miss dose days at Haleiwa Long Bridge, Mill Camp an adda places. K den. We go Vegas now, gangies! So, wedda you identify yoself as one young boy, one fat boy or one ole man, LIVE LIFE and be healthy and happy!

Steve Yagyagan, better known as "Pio" to his childhood friends, is the son of Pio "Ping" Ibanez Yagyagan and Miliama Tauvela Yagyagan. His father ("Papa Ping") came from Burgos, Ilocos Norte, Philippines in 1946 to work in the sugar cane fields. Papa Ping met "Millie," the daughter of a Samoan American Sergeant in the U.S. Marines during WWII, at Otake Store in Waialua on O'ahu's North Shore. Steve graduated from Waialua High in 1979 and left Hawai'i in 1983. He makes his home in California with his wife Regina and their two children, Matthew and Gabrielle.

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Written by William Hooper

User Rating: 5 / 5

"What are you two mumbling about?" asked my Mom. "The Portagees are here for the weekend," I replied. Really don't know why we called them "The Portagees." They lived up St. Louis Heights and went to Saint Louis, that alone in the early 1950s qualified them as being Portagees.

Perry lived down the street. We had been friends since before first grade. Mom used to say we "stuck together like bread and jelly." He knew lots of Portagee jokes. He would sometimes tell them loud enough for Mom to hear, knowing that she did not like to hear them. Mom never said much when she heard them. She just gave us a look that made us stop, then walk away shaking her head.

The Portagees came "down the country" from Honolulu every Friday to spend the weekend at their huge Lanikai beach house. Their father was a dentist so they had lots of things, a speed boat for water-skiing, Columbia bikes with shocks, big Packard car, store bought spear guns, rubber face masks, swim fins for each foot, and other things that we could only wish for. We had JC Higgins second hand bikes, "Biao sling" or a home made door hinge spear gun, wooden diving goggles and one foot swim fin. Boats, water skiing and big car were only for town guys. In the forties and early fifties Kailua/Lanikai was out in the country with a local working class population and we had very little contact with people from town. Sometimes, especially when we beat them in football, the Kailua guys would refer to us Lanikai guys as the Haoles. Never could figure this out, we were about as a racially diverse group as you could find in Hawaii. Perry and I were about as close as you could come to being called a haole and we never thought of ourselves of being one.

The two Portagees, Wayne 15, and his brother Peter 14, went to Saint Louis. Perry and I went to Kailua sixth grade. I don't know why we always referred to Wayne and Peter as the Portagees, I guess we were envious and by linking them to the dumb guys in the portagee jokes it made us feel better. Really they were two good looking guys and an attraction to the neighborhood girls. When they were water-skiing, us guys would hang out a few hundred feet down the beach playing Home Run or Steal Egg, secretly wishing they would ask us to ski, which they never did. The girls would stroll by making eyes, and eventually end up water skiing or riding the boat. Muffy and Ida were good at that. I had a crush on Muffy and it would piss me off when she would go by skiing or driving the boat. Sometimes we would walk by and give them "stink eye" but it never came to anymore that that. Envious and Jealous? Yes we were.

"PORTAGEES I don't like you using that word" said my Mom. "Well, they are," I said. "So are you" Mom replied; "both your Grandmothers are pure Portuguese, your Father and I are each one half Portuguese, that makes you one half Portuguese. With this revelation I stood there stunned with tears in my eyes. Was I really like one of those dumb guys in Perry's Portagee jokes? Except when the Kailua guys referred to the Lanikai guys as haoles, I had never given much thought to my ancestry. Now I find out that I am a Portagee!

Perry loved what he heard, rolling on the floor in laughter pointing at me saying "You're a Portagee, you're a Portagee!"

I don't know what you're laughing at my Mom said to him, "You're also Portuguese. Your family name was changed from Perreira to Perry when your ancestors arrived from Portugal."

Perry thought about it in silence for a while, then quickly came up with "OF COURSE I'M PORTUGUESE AND DAMN PROUD OF IT."

I added, 'US PORTAGEES GOTTA STICK TOGETHER LIKE BREAD AND JELLY."

Mom just smiled and walked away shaking her head.

Born in Honolulu, grew up in Kailua (Lanikai) Kailua schools, Junior and senior years Punahou. 1960 Graduate California Maritime academy. Spent 30 plus years at sea. Remember Hawaii as it was back in the hanabuddah days and not as it is today. Living in SE Texas and coastal Louisiana. Do not make it home often.

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Written by Fernando

User Rating: 5 / 5

We all get different kine experience growing up.  Mine's wun weenah cause I wasz wun humbug buggah. Heah goes, while in grade school ouah playground was the "Camp". No'moh programs for us keeds thoes dayz except during the summah months wen we git summah sports and go to da beech with wun adult leadah. Uddahwise, the "Camp" is our fun place.

Wun of the games we played was "fight sword". We make our swords from wun hedge that grows tall 'n straight. Sum guyz crook and make theirs with pinetree branch (ironwood). Da buggahs use dem as whips instead and soah wen dey whack you. We gettum tho, cause we make long kine sword. Dey no can reach us but we can reach dem. Only ting was my sword was moh long den me and I git wun hard time swinging da buggah around while crawling underneath the camp houses.

Next, we played "Rubbah Gun". Surprising nobody had loose wun eye in dis game. First ting to make dis gun, we go look fo' wun bye lumbah and wun platpiece to make the gun butt. We shape the butt den eedah tied the barrel or nail it to the butt. Make notches on the barrel one to five depending how you like 'um. Find wun innah tube and cut dem wun inch wide crosswise. Put one end of the rubbah on da tip of the gun barrel and stretch da buggah until you gettum in  the notch you had make. I going backtrack on making the barrel. Sum guyz go saw off the handle part of deyr muddahs broom. Dat make wun good gun barrel. I nevah do dat kine stuff but my boyhood fren, "Boy Son" da buggah he had da bes' gun. He also had the kine rubbah we called "diesel rubbah". I dunno whea he get dem, but wen he stretch the rubbah and notch them you bettah watchout if he stay on the udder team causz his rubbah can make you black and blue if it  hits you. Da buggah can even kill birds with his rubbah gun. Anyways, that was the games times.

Now for the humbug times, I remembah once wen I was playing hide and seek in the camps. I was hiding in wun pilipino man's kitchen. He had rice cooking in the pot and like wun lolo I had put one falldown mango in the pot of cooking rice. I nevah seen the pilipino man but da nex day, my fuddah call me, took off his belt and bus' me up. I nevah do dat agin but I had get back at the pilipino mens cause wen dey stay sleeping during the day time aftah working the nite shift in the Sugah mill, I go get a whole bunch of falldown mangos, go hide sumplace and just chrow the mangos on the totonge roof. I can heah dem guyz swearing in pilipino and coming out to see who stay chrow mangos on deyr roof. I sho' had good fun doing dat. I was doing it foh' a long time until I jus' got tired doing it.

I used to make my own bow and arrow. I make da bows from bamboo and the arrows wid sugarcane tassel,I tink as wat dey call it. I insert nail in my arrows to give dem weight. Anyway wun day I had shoot my arrow at my frend and I almost hit his eye. As da last time I did dat and nevah played wid bow and arrow agin.

From 8th grade on I used to help my fuddah raise pigs. Aftah school, I go home change clothes and head for the pens. Sumtimes da pigs just make to much noise waiting for deyr food so I heat up da pigslop until da buggah stay just about boiling. Den slush'um in da trough and den watch wen dem pigs stick deyr face in da food. I tell you da buggahs no make noise aftah dat. Da food is deyr so dey no make noise but dey no can eat yet. Mean buggah eh me? But eh, you try go feed pigs everyday and see if you no get mad sum dayz wid dem pigs.

One moah ting mentionable in my youthful days. In high school a bunch of us Kekaha boyz used to work for Kekaha Sugah while still attending Waimea High. We had two classes den reported to the Sugah Plantation to be assign a work schedule for da day. Dis particular day, four of us guyz was assigned to plant "pulah pulah" das sugahcane seedlin' in the bare areas of a growing canefield. Well, wun of the guyz "Kawika" had to use the men's room. Since no'moh tolet whea we was he had to find a place down wun one valley to do his ting.

Wun uddah guy "CooCoo" was watching whea Kawika had go and den signal us by pointin' whea he was. We had two donkeys packed with "pulah pulah". I dunno how much pulah pulah deyr was but it was a bunch. Anyway we, not me, unloaded the packs of seedlin's and started to chrow dem to the spot whea CooCoo was pointin'. Needless to say, we had chrow all the cane seedlin's down the valley and we was caught by wun supervisor "Ralph" was watching us wid his binoculars from across the valley. Nex day we was kicked out of the program after only a couple of weeks in it.

Other hooligan mischiefs like trying to steal manju from one old chinese man who used to come around with his old pickup truck. Going to Mana to the watermelon patch at night. You know wat foh! "Borrowing" gas from plantation trucks. I can still taste the gas. But dat's all in the past now. I think like all you uddah buggahs we had wun gud fun time. Life now is wat we make of it. Do someting great!

Born and raised in Kekaha. Joined the AirForce. Stayed in for 4-years. After discharged, worked for Bendix at the NASA Tracking Station as a power plant Operator. After Space Tracking Station became operational, Ground Station folded I was picked up by ITT at PMRF Barking Sands doing the same job. Retired when I reached 62 years. Wife and I now own and operate a beachfront Vacation Rental unit. Life's what one makes of it.

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Written by Steve Yagyagan

User Rating: 5 / 5

I was juss one simple plantation "boysan" back in da day. I grew up in one humble famly on da Waialua Shugah Plantation. My faddah iz Ilocano wid some adda stuff. My muddah wuz Samoan wid some English o some kinda mixtcha from Europe, bless her haht .

Anyway, auwa lass name should have been, "Tupua," since we wuz kinda, well "too puwa" . My muddah use to tell me, "Eh, Boysan, weya yo pants tree times a week befo you put'em in da hampah, heh! Juss altanate'em every adda day."

So, I dunno if da weya and teya of my clodes wen give dem plenny puka inside'em but I made good use of'em. I had my favorite brown Quick Silvah surfah shawts. I had my favorite Tie-Die Chicken Fight tee-shirt from Carzy Shirts Hawai'i . I even had my favorite kamaboko slippahz -- da buggah was tree inch tick witch made me lil bit mo tall since I was kinda pitot.

But, I had dis one favorite brown, Levi's twill bell-bottom pants in da seventies dat I really liked. Da buggah flared out about one foot wide down to my luau feet. Had one small puka right by my left ty but I still wen like 'em. Da problem wuz dat my oldah sistah Heddah used to steel da friggin pants from me all da time. I was kinda pizz-off.

One day, she wuz bold enough fo wear'em in front of me on da way to school. I said, "Eh, sistah! take off my pants an put'em back in my room!" Heddah said, "No way Babooz! Dis my pants!" We went on fo couple tree o fo mo sentences and den, "BOOM!" we wen tro blos -- beef, la'dat. I wen grab her leg and yank her down to da flo-wah . She wen huli and drop down hahd on da wooden flo-wah. Needless-to-say, she had some choice words fo me, words dat I no can repeat because I no like yo keikis to read'em cuz bumbye you goin' track me down and kick my okole. Okay, so I digress.

Den, Heddah wen trip me and I wen fall do da flo-wah. "BOOM!" I wen huli on top her too. I wen pin her down and den I stahted fo unbutton da pants and try fo pull'em down. I wuz pulling and pulling an all of a sudden "Ripppp!", my fingah wen get caught in da small puka and da ting wen open up about five inches by da ty.

"See, stoopid hed" she wen screem, "You wen rip my pants!" "Oh, yo pants?! Yo pants my eye," I wen shout back, "Az wuz my pants, tita!"

Yup, we had mo French words fo shayah until finally, Heddah said, "Eh Bruddah! You realize we fighting ovah one stinking paya of pants?" I wen laugh, "Az right, sis. As juss one friggin' paya of puka pants." Ho cuz, evendo we made up, I wuz still pizz-off becuz I wen miss my puka pants fo long time.

My lesson about dat day iz, "Weya iz dat puka pants now, wen puka puka clodes stay in style wid today's kids? I could probably chahge sevendy-five bucks fo dat friggin rag!"

This story is dedicated to my sistah Heather in Florida

Steve Yagyagan was born on O'ahu's Northshore. He lived in Kawailoa (Haleiwa) but mostly in da Waialua Sugar Plantation Mill Camps. He graduated in 1979 from Waialua High & Intermediate School, San Francisco State University (BA in Broadcast communications) and The University of Phoenix (MA in Org. Mgmt.). His SAG screen name is Steven Kane and he has been in Magnum PI, Silk Stalkings, Pensacola Wings of Gold as well as on many radio and television voice-overs. He has been in two stage plays in Hawaii as well. His current project is a book about growing up on the Waialua Sugar Plantation. He makes his home now in San Diego, California with his wife Regina Bangalan (Campbell and Encinal High Schools '81) and their two children, Matthew Joseph-Keoni and Gabrielle Nohelani.

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Written by Sandra Samson Thomas

User Rating: 5 / 5

It was my junior year in high school and I was having so much fun being a teenager. All my weekends were booked from the beginning of the week. This weekend was no different. I had plans to go to the Leilehua and Kahuku basketball game. This was a big game!

I was so excited and really looking forward to going to the game. I know I was going to drive. I was driving this little Toyota Corolla we called "Agnes!" She was a reliable little car and she took me all over the place. She was really my brother's car but since he was away in the Air Force stationed in Turkey, I made good use of her availability. My plan was to pick up my girlfriends, Linda and Kathy. The three of us was going to the game.

The weekend was here and I was getting excited. On game day it started off good until my dad got a call from the hospital and was told that my grandpa had just past away. I looked at my dad. He was feeling so sad because that was his dad and he took it kinda hard. He told us the bad news and I was feeling sad for him. But I still was thinking about the game and how excited I was about going. My dad asked me if I was going out that night. I told him that I had already made plans. He told me I should cancel and stay home because my grandpa had just past away. But I told him that I had to go. It was an important game. He didn't say anything, but I knew he did not want me to go, but I wasn't going to listen.

He told me again later on that day that I should cancel, but I told him that I couldn't because my girlfriends and I was really looking forward for this weekend. Being a teenager and hudhead I told him that it was an important game. Really it was! I knew I could stay home just for this ONE night but like one hudhead kid who refused to listen, I went out that night.

I picked up my girlfriends and we went to the game. Today I don't remember if we won or loss, but the thing that me and my girlfriends Linda and Kathy do rememba was wen we were on our way home to Wahiawa and we were going down toward that bridge past Whitmore village from out of nowhere had one big black dog running toward our little Toyota Corolla. We all saw the dog. Linda was in the back seat but she was sitting chicken fight way cause us were all talking story and when that dog was running toward the car we all went scream!!!! And I went hit the dog!!! Was so scary but I didn't stop! I continued on and turned into Big Way Burger parking lot. Which was the closest place and was still open.

When I came to a stop we all went out of the car to check if had any damage. There was a small dent and we saw black hair, so we knew it was the dog hair. So we decided to go back down by the bridge to check on the dog because we know we hit him. Had big noise wen we went hit him but the dog was no where around. Us went come sked and we went back to Big Way Burger parking lot wondering what happened. We all saw the dog and this dog was big! I remember seeing his face over the hood! But the dog was not around and we know he should have been wounded or something cause we know we hit him and us went all scream!

Then at the Big Way Burger parking lot where us was parked we all started to think what the hell was going on. That's when we all realized that my parents had warned me not to go out that night, but being hud head I went out anyway. We told this story to my faddah when we went home. Both Kathy and Linda was with me and after hearing the story my faddah looked at us and said that it was a sign that I should have stayed home that night the way I was told to do. But because I was hud head and really had to go out that night my grandpa who just died gave me a sign! I dunno if all this is true, but I do know now that I should have listen to my parents. That night I remember I had a hard time going to sleep. I just kept thinking about that big black dog.

Today me, Linda and Kathy cannot forget that dog and how it was running up the hill toward our car! We still wonder "was that a dog or a message from my grandpa that I should have stayed home that night the way my parents had told me to!"

Sandra Samson Thomas, a 1971 graduate of Leilehua High School was born and raised in Kunia Camp on the island of Oahu. After high school she attended Canon's Business College and Honolulu Community College. Her goal was to work in the library and to become a librarian. Instead she became a Human Resource Specialist for the Federal government. She is married to Dwight Thomas of San Diego, they have 3 kids and 4 grandkids. They make Wahiawa their home after traveling the world while her husband was in the military for 20 years.

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Written by Kamaka Brown

DING DING. My fuddah roll ova the rubbah hose at Abe Chevron in Haleiwa.

"Wot? Fillum Mup etto?" the service station attendant said to my fuddah.

"Yeah" he said, "might as well." My fuddah always put etto insai da car.
"I don't put the cheap stuff inside cuz da car going be hud starting and da buggah goin' "ping" when we go up one hill." He said

"K" the attendant said. His blue uniform shirt wit da Chevron logo on top da pocket is cool. The shirt no was tucked in and das when Abe yells at him, "I tole you tuck da shirt in Kazu!"

Kazu half heartedly makes an attempt to shove the shirt in his pants from the back, leaving bulges of material in the front. Mistah Abe stay grooming his boy, Kazu for take ova da business when he retire. No can run da business wit shirt hanging out right?

"Deeze kids nowdays," Mistah Abe said shaking his head and wiping his hands on a shop towel.. "How's the family Mistah Brown.?"

"Good. Good," my fuddah said, "your boys getting big, eh?"

"Yeah, I trying fo' teach dem da business but dey oneee like make hotrod." Mistah Abe said pointing his jaw to a souped up looking '55 Chevy in black primer wit the hood up and big tires..

My fuddah agreed wit Abe, "just like mine one," he said, pointing with his thumb, "he tink he Jerry Lewis, always making jokes. I tell him no can make a living telling jokes."

"Das how," Abe said grinning at me and shaking his head.

The Chevron station was right next to Kato Store and across the street from the Post Office. For as long as I can remember we always put gas at Abe Chevron. My fuddah was proud of his Chevron charge card. Mistah Abe took the card and I watched him crank the lever over the card making a carbon copy. KRUNK KRUNK. He brought the receipt on a clip board for my fuddah to sign. My fuddah made a ceremony of signing his signature and tearing off his copy before returning the clipboard to Abe. "Dare you go," he said.

"So da waves beeg, eh?" Kazu said wiping the passenger side glass and looking at me through the open widow. He knew we lived at Waimea wea had big waves.

"Yeah," I said but my mind was on uddah things. Working at one gas station is so cool, I thought to myself. Get all the cool cars come put gas. You can read the hot rod magazines. You can look at da "Snap On Tools" calendar with da girl in one bathing suit and beeg da kines. You can get your hands all dirty and no body going scold you. "Two haoles from Schofield wen get sucked outside."

"Man," Kazu said, "you not going catch me out dea. You lose your board, you suck wind. You gotta swim all da way in. Not me boy."

He was older, about 16 with slicked back black hair. His blue jeans were black at the knees. I bet his muddah don't scold him about oil on his pants, I thought to myself.

Maybe I can work at Abe Service Station next summer, I thought. That would be cool.

Another car pulled into the station. It ran over the rubber hose that laid across the driveway. It activated the bell. DING DING.

Mistah Abe was on the phone inside the office. Kazu was checking our tire pressure. He carried the pressure gauge in his shirt pocket like a pen with a clip to keep it from falling out. He was always ready for a tire pressure check! I could hear the air come out of the tire as he sampled the air pressure. SSSHT!

"Mistah Brown, your tire pressure stay low on the back tire." He called out from the rear of the car. "32 ok?"

"Yeah, that's good," my father said

I looked over at the other car. Old filopino man in his Chevy

Chee, if I worked here I could run over to the other car. "Fillum Mup Etto?

"No, daaa reg-lah", Mr Bolosan said.

I ran to the side of the Chevy and cranked the side of the gas pump. The numbers clicked and reset in the window. I pulled on the hose and pushed the lever up. I could hear the electric pump nearby go on. I opened the silver gas cap and shoved the nozzle into the hole, clicked the trigger and put the pin in place to lock it on.

I took the rag from my back pocket and pulled the hitch that popped the hood open. Pulling the dip stick from the tube, I wiped the end and inserted it back in the tube. As I pulled it out I could see that the oil level was below the second line. Hmm..he stay one quart low.

"Mistah Bolosan, you stay quart low." I said showing him the dip stick. He squinted at the stick and said: "Nah, next time, boy."

K'den no blame me if you go Wahiawa up da hill and you burn your engine up, I thought.

Time fo' check da tires SHTTT. The needle part on da gauge pop up. Between 28 and 30. Good Good. I reached into the bucket with murky water with rainbow circles of oil floating on top and pull out da squee gee. Lean across da hood make da sponge pot soap up da windshield and den da rubbah blade pot make da glass sparkle.

I stay look insai da old Chevy get one box mango in da back seat, couple old worn out towels da kine you get insai da detergent box fo' free. Da kine my muddah say "junk" cuz you wash'em couple times and da buggah get pukah already. "Good for rags in da garage" my fuddah sed.

The gas nozzle go "chunk" and da gas stop. Da buggah full. Put back da gas nozzle. Read da pump: $3.37 for fill up da tank. I tell Mistah Bolosan how much. He lean forward in his seat and reach for his wallet.

His wallet is brown leather but stay all buss up. Like he had'em fo' ewa. Da thing stay thick wit cards and get one rubbah band around it. He look at me first and den concentrate on opening da wallet. Hoo get plenny bills insai da wallet. Musta had good day playing cards. He pulled out one bunch bills and count out four ones. "You keep da change, boy" he smiled showing yellow toscani stained teeth. "Thanks, Mistah Bolosan," I smile back thinking of the cold bottle of coca cola in da machine wit my name on it!

Da bright red coke machine da size of one icebox with large white or used to be white lettering stood on the side of the station along side two jawbreaker bubble gum dispensers. Cool da coke machine. You put da money insai da slot and open da door. You pull the bottle out and you can hear the whole row of sodas shift and a new bottle slide in the place wea you wen jus pull da udda one out. I hear the soft ffffffffftttt of the cap coming off the top in da bottle opener in front the machine. Oooooh dis going taste soooo ono.....ahhhhh......things do go bedda with coke.....

".....so you going stay in da car or go insai the house, boy?"

"....w-w-what?" I am blinking in the bright sunlight.

"I said you going stay in da car or go insai the house?" my fuddah's voice. I open my eyes and he's standing outside the car looking in at me. "Hurry up, your mother is waiting on us for eat."

I sit up and look around. We stay in the back yard wea my fuddah park his car next to the workshop. My feet search around for my slippahz. My fuddah grumbling about how as soon as the car stay rolling I stay snoozin' already.

I neva did work at Abe Cheveron in Haleiwa, nedda did I work at my second choice Yoshida's by Sea View Inn by the bridge next to Miura store. That wasn't meant to be I guess.

I did learn plenny about cars from my fuddah. Like no run da gas down pass quarter tank cuz all da opala from the bottom of the tank going insai da carbo-rahta. I always carry exta quart oil in da trunk like my fuddah used to. I always carry one roll duc tape jus' in case something broke and no mo tools and I always have puka towel rags in dea too just in case gotta wipe your hands.

Come in handy now cuz no can find true "Service Stations" like before. No get guys run out and check your tires and oil. I think my fuddah was getting me ready for this time in my life. Everytime I go in sai one "Gas Station" now, I say to da guy wit one turban on his head behind da register insai wea get nachos, slurpees, and red bull ..."fillum Mup on numbah 4". I think of my fuddah putting gas at Abe Chevron in Haleiewa. DING DING

Kamaka Brown was born and raised in Hawaii. Childhood years were spent in Waimea Valley on the North Shore of Oahu. Now a California resident he has not forgotten his Island roots. He is a published author, performs local style comedy at concerts and clubs on the West Coast, Honolulu, Las Vegas and the Pacific Northwest. He is a staff member on AlohaWorld.com

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Written by Fernando

Okay guyz...I going begin by telling you why I no-like dem horse and donkeys (mules) same smell. It started wen i had go fishing with my oldah bradduh... we was fishing at Kinikini "now PMRF". Thoze fishin days was good, anyway my braddah was going foh' hinaleia (gizame) and I was picking up pipipi. I dunno why but he had his bamboo pole facing towards me and I saw da hook with da line and i wen go pickup da hook and wen I had da hook in my hand da buggah had swing da pole forward and da hook had stuck in my thum to da max.

He took me to emergency and when I was waitin outside I saw dis young guy with his fuddah rushin up da stairz and da guy had his hands infront his face like he was holding somtin. I latah found out dat a mule had kick him on da face and he had lose one eye. As da beginning of why I no like horse and donkeys.

I went to Catholic school and wun day we no had school so me and some frenz decided to go by Spanish Camp to da mud flats with our BB guns to see if we can shoot mudhens or whatevahs. On da way, we had take wun short-cut through da short cane cane field. Wen we was about da center part of da field we heah sumbody yelling at us and cumming full speed on a horse, .man, we had scattah every which way. I remembah running following da row of cane. MISTAKE! cause he had cum aftah me dat way he no damage da cane by going crossways.

I had fall down and da buggah was right there making his horse riseup and hees horse makin horse noise and heem yelling why I no stay in school.I stay crying and yelling I go to catholic school and we no moh' school and watching dat dam horse if he was going kick me. Dat ruin ouah day and we all wen go home. I wasz still tinking of da horse and how scared I was.

Later, my friend Pelane ask me to go wid heem to go get hees frenzs mule. Da mule was tied by wun irrigation ditch in da cane field. We had to walk a couple of miles to get da mule. We untide da mule and got on it by lockin our toes of one leg to da mules leg den kinda chrow ourselves on da mules back. I was sittin behind my fren and had a slingshot to shoot doves and we had go about a hundred yahds wen I decided I was goin shoot one shot frum my slingshot into da cane field."MISTAKE !"

Da sudden sound of da rock hittin da cane leafs scared da mule an he wen liff up his front leg an me sittin in da back just wen roll ovah and fall down. Da first ting on my mind was watchout foah da mules back leg wid the memories of the guy dat had looze one eye still wid me. Again, I was scared and told Pelane dat i was goin walk home wich was a long way off.

Wen I was in da service I wen go horseback ridin wid buddies but da horse can sense me an he just put hees head down and eat grass while my frenzs gallop away. So to dis day i no like horses and donkeys. I dunno wen you reed dis story you goin lauf but i no kayah, I still no like horses and donkeys. Tank u.

Born and raised in Kekaha. Joined the AirForce. Stayed in for 4-years. After discharged, worked for Bendix at the NASA Tracking Station as a power plant Operator. After Space Tracking Station became operational, Ground Station folded I was picked up by ITT at PMRF Barking Sands doing the same job. Retired when I reached 62 years. Wife and I now own and operate a beachfront Vacation Rental unit. Life's what one makes of it.

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