I’ve been seeing them. On my friends. On hairdressers. Apparently they’ve been around in Manhattan for a couple of years, but things take a little longer to arrive in Hawaii. Like the mail.
Perhaps I am dating myself, but I once ran around with a bunch of guys from a Kailua punk band called DDT. They had the “ridiculous” ‘do of the 80s, the Mohawk. Yeah, parents everywhere shook their heads as we lived out our rebellious little lives — well, not all of us made it very far — looking for meaning or just escape. We played our guitars, housed any friends who needed a roof, stayed up all night talking about the political state of Ireland (Yeah, I’m Japanese. But Nick was Irish. And he talked more than I did.), & broke bones downhilling St. Louis Heights. We had no money whatsoever, no mommy & daddy to pay for college, no family business to inherit. To go out & buy a tube of gel was something of a luxury. We applied the egg white on special occasions because we needed the eggs for food.
Money was spent on music. A CD, a new amp, new strings. Once I split the cost of a case of Top Ramen with a girlfriend & we lived on that for an entire month.