in the Pacific
What an opening day we had.
Since the trip was given to us, we didn't make our own travel arrangements.
On the way to Tulsa International Airport, it was raining cats and dogs
at one point I thought I ran over a poodle. That's an old joke, but I wanted
to get Tony Blair in this report somewhere.
So it's raining so hard we can't see - and of
course we're running late - and
Mrs. Bart double checks out itinerary and it says "Northwest
That threw us into a panic, because we're supposed to
be flying Continental.
So after a couple of calls, they tell us that
Continental doesn't really service Tulsa,
so they use Northwest's facilities, instead. That
makes sense - this is Oklahoma.
So we get to the Tulsa airport and it's dark.
Dark as in "no lights."
Our once in a lifetime trip to Hawaii - to be
cancelled by a closed airport?
We asked the dudes in charge what was goin on
and they said the airport
generators failed, and with no power they can't screen
the bags so obviously
no planes were taking off until cousin IT figured out
how to fix it.
The lady in front of us said she worked at a hospital,
and when power goes out
there they can't even tell when the power switches to
backup. You see, Oklahoma
is one of those redder-than-a-spanked-hooker's-ass states,
so we don't spend
money for 'worthless social programs' like backup airport
So we planed (that's the opposite of de-planed,
I suppose) and headed off to
George Herbert Herbert Bush airport in Houston. (BTW,
the name "Houston"
starts with an "H," not a "Y." The pilot insisted
we were going to "Youston."
Captain Kirk is another one - remember at Spock's funeral,
he said of all the
souls he met in his travels, Spock was the most "yuman." Hey
Bill, just because
you're from Canada doesn't mean you get a pass on that
but I can't be too mad
at him because neither Jack Bauer nor our president can
At Houston, we were told we enjoyed "Elite" status
That meant we got to walk on the fancy blue carpet to
board the plane.
Those in steerage didn't get to walk on the blue carpet,
the poor bastards.
It was only our second time on a big plane.
We were in the first row that was not First
Class but we got to witness the luxury
I couldn't see it all, but what we saw was so
decadent I couldn't believe it.
Each first class passenger was getting more attention
than a turbaned guy
named "Mohammed" at an NRA convention. They even
had a "tong concierge."
He was dressed like Paris Hilton's prom date and he was
with these tongs handing out hot towels. What the hell's
up with hot towels?
They had salads in glass bowls with real silverware.
They had long, fancy menus
with what looked like tons of choices. After the meal
they had ice cream and the
tong consierge went seat-to-seat with a chocolate goop
Meanwhile, we got a turkey pastrami sandwich without
any turkey - and pretzels.
We've had many surprises on this trip - the first
one was how short the flight was.
The time flew by so fast - it seemed like a mini-jaunt
from Tulsa to Dallas.
It takes about 36 hours to get to Hawai'i from
We each had our own TV and our choice of ten channels
But the chanels played for two hours and then repeated
- again and again.
Meanwhile, I peaked into First Class and saw they were
Richard Nixon financed his first congressional race
with poker winnings.
Eventually we saw land and we touched down. Out
next big suprise was the weather.
When we got off the plane at the Maui airport, the temperature
was 48 degrees.
I'm lying again.
The weather is so nice here, the natives have
no word for "weather."
They don't need one because the temperature is always
between 75 and 87.
As we're walking towards the baggage claim, a
young, brochure-cute Hawaiian girl
was holding a 'BartCop' sign and calling out "BartCop! BartCop!"
I thought to myself, "That sounds a lot like my name," so
we walked up to her.
She gave each of us a white and purple lei made of fresh-cut
orchids. They smelled great.
Didn't get a kiss, tho. What happened to tradition?
Soon we checked in to our hotel and I tried to
catch some pakalolo, but I struck out.
Next thing we knew, the season-ending C.S.I. was
on. That was a killer episode, wasn't it?
Turns out, the hotel has no access to the
They say they plan to get it later this year, which is
what they told us in Palm Beach,
which is what they told us in Taos, which is what they
told us last year in Key West.
Why can't the hippest vacation spots get their fecal
matter consolidated before we arrive?
The next day we had the best breakfast buffet
ever - if you like all-you-can-eat fish and rice for breakfast.
In Hawaii, McDonald's serves rice for breakfast and Burger
King puts some worm-like substance
on their Angus burgers that I'm hoping to hell was nothing
more exotic than carmelized onions.
Also, much to Mrs. Bart's chagrin, our hotel had no
Y'know, I can't help but compare fancy hotels
to the casinoes* in fabulous Las Vegas.
If you want a ground ostrich sandwich with Maytag and Kenmore
cheese delivered to your room
by a tall Puerto Rican lesbian in a Chewbaca costume
at exactly 4 AM - that's what you're going to get.
It might cost you $400, but by Koresh, Chewy will be
there because the only time they say "No"
in Las Vegas is when you ask "Did I win?" at the blackjack
Then we decided to do some beach.
I got nothing bad to say about the beach - except that it was
They had signs everywhere "Beach closed due to heavy
undertow," something like that,
but a few brave people decided to risk all and venture out a few feet into
Since the beach was closed, we decided to check out the Sugar Cane Steam
As you know, I'm obsessed with old steam trains but, like always, it was
closed for repairs
until the day after we left town. This happens a lot. (Check out every
So we got ready for the big Pokerfest
Maui. I put on my lucky
shorts and my lucky
red-flowered Hawaiian shirt and my lucky Maui floppy hat. (Think Gilligan's
Among the attendees who agreed to let me use their names were Symbolman, the
all those great flash movies at Take
Back the Media.com and his lovely wife, Mrs. Symbolman.
Symbolman brought a bag of gifts - a TBTM t-shirt for me & Mrs.
Bart, a CD of a recent TBTM
radio show (The TBTM boys taught Tommy Mack how to do that long-distance radio
and a bottle of God's nectar, Chinaco Anejo, that isn't even
sold in Hawaii. He got it off the internets.
Also in attendence was Fud, the brains behind the live
chat room where monkeys are sacrificed
and his lovely wife, Mrs. Fud. None of us were poker champs that
night, (We each lost about $50)
but we had a good time telling lies and plotting the unionizing of like-minded
web sites against Bush.
Walking back to the hotel from the Pokerfest, this punk kid walks up
to me and says,
"How about a nice Hawaiian punch?" so
I covered my genitals and told him to go "F" himself.
Back at the hotel, I tried to catch some pakalolo,
but once again, I struck out.
Saturday, Mrs. Bart played a trick on me. She asked if we could climb
I figured it would be 2500 feet or so, so I wore my lucky shorts and my lucky
clouds at Mount Haleakala.
Turns out, it's over 10,000 feet and all I had on was my lucky shorts
and my lucky shirt,
but that's OK because I have ice water running thru my veins. When it gets
cold, I don't
wear a coat until the temp drops below 50. I laugh at cold
It was our last night at the Maui
Motel 6 with the fancy ocean view.
Sunday was fun day. We drove the famous Road
Hana is located in a lush, equatorial tropical
How equatorial tropical was it? When we
checked in our room, the welcome book said
we needed to "make friends" with the geckos that were
sharing the room with us.
This was all on Mrs. Bart - she wanted to visit
the lush, equatorial tropical rain forest, so she
had to "make friends" with the geckos and the Casablanca-speed
ceiling fan that replaced the A/C.
The highest number of geckoes* we saw at once inside our room was six.
There's nothing Mrs. Bart enjoys more than a half-dozen lizards
running above her head on the ceiling.
Turns out the geckos were a good thing, because they were there to eat the
tons of ants and bugs.
They had regular sixe ants, and half-inch sized fire ants and misc bugs of
We decided to make the best of it and pretend we were on Survivor.
She was Boston Rob and I was Amber.
Wait, reverse that.
Yep, ain't nothing more fun than spending the night in a lush,
equatorial tropical rain forest
but that's what she wanted so that's what we did ...and
it wasn't my fault :)
I gotta say - she took it like a trooper.
...and still, I couldn't find any pakalolo.
Sorry about the lack of news/politics, but they don't get those here.
At worst, we'll be back in Tulsa this weekend.
More if/when I can find a hotel with connections to the internets.
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