Monday, July 20, 2009

Polynesian Pop

"Oh we're goin' to a hukilau...."
Took Robert and Meredith to the Tiki bar in CB. One of my favorite spots. I figure the only way to combat the feeling that I would much rather live in the mountains to Washington state is to immerse myself in a sort of tropical tiki kitsch fantasy world. then when I am sweating in the rusty Jeep at an interminably long stop light in the blazing sun, hell, in other words, I can imagine myself somewhere else, on a breezy beach with a tropical drink and flowers in my hair.
We were lucky enough to catch the Da Howlies. Awesome dudes... have enjoyed my cd today. They'll be back again in a month.
I just can't get enough. I have searched the internet for tiki swizzle sticks, carved tikis, how to carve tikis... in fact I started searching for who tiki actually is! (in many Polynesian myths he's the first man) I guess somewhere in my youth I equated tikit bars with mirth. My parents adored the Enchanted Tiki room in Disneyland when we lived in San Diego in the late 60's. They and my grandparents had tiki mugs from Bali Hi and other bars. My grandmother adored anything tropical and anything with coconut in it. So I naturally grew up thinking anything Polynesian must be completely magical. So I have always harbored a love of Tiki. I tortured my fellow prom comitee folks in high school. I got appointed their evil overseer and insisted we create EA Laney's gym into a tropical wonderland replete with glowing, smoking 10 foot high volcano. I made 40 paper mache parrots, cut bamboo myself to transform the bathrooms and cut out hundreds of giant tropical leaves. The sophomore servers wore sarongs I thought it was fantastic. Not everyone enjoyed it. They all wanted a southern antebellum plantation theme with a giant white Bellamy mansion and belle gowns. I thought that was lame and over done and frankly unfair to those who were not privileged white plantation owners decendents. Anyway, my love of tiki lives on. there are two rubbermaid storage containers in my attic full of strings of tiki lights, grass skirting, silk leis, palm leaf platters, tiki shot glasses.
I mean its fun! You can't sing Pearly Shells while thinking about biopsies or cell phone bills, or dental crowns.
" the ocean, lying on the shore, shining in the sun... when I see them, my heart tells me I love you more than all the little pearly shells!"

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