I would have to say that the Hawaiian Islands have been poetically inspiring these past few days. There was plenty of time on the five-hour plane ride to write. We were also up early this morning with the three-hour time difference from Portland. Dinner last night was at 7:30 but really 10:30 for us. Most importantly sports scores have gone my way with the Cubs, White Sox, and Trailblazers all recording victories. As I wrote to my dad years ago, “Hawaii is a magical place where {insert favorite teams} always win.” (See Post #49). I hope this continues for the next 7 days that we are on Maui.

It’s a bit cloudy today, so burning these pail shoulders shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve started reading Into the Wild, a book by Jon Krakauer. I actually stole it from our anniversary hotel room in tiny McMinnville, Oregon last week. The Big Apple, New York City is next week. Both cities are mentioned in the silly poem that follows. Yesterday’s poem (See Post #927) was a bit personal and heavy, so I felt that that today’s effort should be lighter. My wife and I were walking along the beach path this morning and we saw a partially clothed statue of Buddha, reminiscent of our recent trip to Thailand. (See Post #884). She couldn’t help but laugh about “Buddha Butt.” I know it’s sacrilegious and disrespectful but that’s what sick humor is often all about:

Buddha Butt

Thailand islands,
Maui sun.
The Big Apple,
Among all we’ve done.

McMinnville magic,
Wrigley vines.
Phoenix to Tucson,
Temples and shrines.

O’ Canada yet,
San Francisco next.
Each new adventure,
A bucket quest.

It’s been a good year,
Of traveling around.
And next fall,
We’re Egypt bound.

We’ve been to the top,
And even underground.
We’ve searched the world,
And here’s what we’ve found:

From naked David,
To tomb of Tut.
Nothing’s sexier,
Than Buddha Butt.

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