Mark Yamane is a classmate who found what he liked early on and stuck with it. That he has chosen a career in banking only magnifies the picture of stability that he projects.

Mark and Patsy Yamane enjoying themeslves at the 2009 Punahou Alumni Luau.

Mark has held a variety of positions at local Hawaii banks and has served as the president of Hawaii Pacific Federal Credit Union for the last nine years. He enjoys his job because of the constant challenges and changes that it offers. Says Mark, “I enjoy what I’m doing and I’ll work as long as I can. I’m a lifer.”

Mark’s office is in the Ala Moana Building. Hawaii Pacific FCU began as the Sears credit union in 1941 so I guess it hasn’t strayed too far from its roots.

Mark says that he works “in the business of trust.” I found a Midweek article about him and it gives you the feeling that taking care of his customers is what Mark and his business is all about. Mark says that his credit union serves anyone working for or related to employees of hundreds of local businesses. Most of these businesses are located in Ala Moana Center but Mark emphasizes that they do serve businesses large and small outside of the Center confines … just ask! To do so, contact him directly at myamane@hawaiipacific.org to learn more.

When he’s not talking business, you can find Mark walking or playing golf to stay in shape. Mark was one of the guys at our reunion golf tournament so you know he’s serious!

Mark is married to Patsy and they have three sons who are Punahou graduates: John ‘03, David ‘07, and Matthew ‘09.

Among the memories shared on the 35th reunion survey was the following:

For those of you who don't understand the joke, here's a picture of a fruiting lauhala tree. "Kinda" like a pineapple ... but not.

Arriving as a new sophomore on crutches with both ankles bandaged, having infected fin blisters from trying bodysurfing at Makapuu that first summer…and having Mele Meyer take pity on me and guide me around. she, and Linny Morris were my first friends at Punahou, along with Connie Ostrem & Kelvin Taketa & Moira Scully – all so friendly to this awkward haole from California… I’ll not forget Linny laughing when I pointed to a lauhala tree and said, “I didn’t know that’s how pineapples grew!”

During reunion I asked Mele Meyer about this comment and asked who might have written this memory. Immediately, she responded, “It was Lynne Vuillemont.”

Mele Meyer at the reunion picnic at Secret Island.

Mele said that she went up to Lynne because of a favor that she had received in 7th grade. It seems that, when she was a new student, Mele had been similarly befriend by Betsy Abts. Mele remembered how hard it was when she had entered Punahou and wanted to ease the way for another new student.

Said Mele, “I saw her during assembly. Lynne was obviously a new kid. It’s ‘Hawaiian Style’ to be nice so I did it. We’ve been friends ever since.”

How much nicer would the world be if we could all follow Mele’s (and Betsy’s) example? Thankfulness leads to good things! Something to keep in mind as we celebrate Thanksgiving and embark upon the holiday season.

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Me plus you (I’ma tell you one time) [x3] 

When I met you girl my heart went knock knock

Now them butterflies in my stomach wont stop stop

And even though its a struggle love is all we got

Ao we gon’ keep keep climbin’ till the mountain top

Your world is my world

And my fight is your fight

My breath is your breath

And your heart (and now I’ve got my)

Chorus:

One love

My one heart

My one life for sure

Lemme tell you one time

(girl I love, girl I love you)

I’ma tell you one time

(girl I love, girl I love you)

And I’ma be your one guy

You’ll be my number one girl

Always makin time for you

I’ma tell you one time

(girl I love, girl I love you)

I’ma tell you one time

(girl I love, girl I love you)

You look so deep

You know that it humbles me,

Your by my side and troubles them don’t trouble me

Many have called but the chosen Is you

Whatever you want shawty I’ll give it to you

Your world is my world

And my fight is your fight

My breath is your breath

And your heart (and now I’ve got my)

Repeat Chorus

Shawty right there

She’s got everything I need

and I’m gon’ tell her one time (one time)

Give you everything you need

Down to my last dime

She makes me happy

I know where I’ll be

Right by your side cause

She is the one

Repeat Chorus

Me plus you (I’m a tell you one time) [3x]

November’s meeting of the Harvard Club was at the Nuuanu Avenue offices of The Nature Conservancy in Hawaii. Suzanne Case spoke about her organization’s success in having its office become LEED certified. The following story, taken from The Nature Conservancy’s member newsletter, describes this effort.

The Wing Wo Tai building earned certification as Honolulu's first existing green building.

The historic, 132-year-old structure, which serves as the Conservancy’s primary Hawaii headquarters, earned LEED certification from the U.S. Green Building Council. The coveted LEED designation–it stands for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design–is the nationally recognized standard for the design, construction and operation of high performance green buildings.

“This is very exciting for us,” said Suzanne Case, the Conservancy’s Hawaii executive director. “LEED is the gold star of green standards. If a historic building like ours can go green and get certified, any building can.”

Originally built in 1877 and rebuilt in 1916, the Wing Wo Tai building still evokes its 19th century roots. But the historic building is now a model of the possible, incorporating cutting-edge technology and innovative sustainable practices that reflect the Conservancy’s commitment to the natural environment.

The 13,000-square -foot building features rooftop photovoltaic panels to generate clean power, a new energy-efficient air conditioning system, low-flow plumbing fixtures and energy-efficient lighting. In addition, the Conservancy has instituted policies for sustainable purchasing, green cleaning and solid waste management geared to minimize trash going to local landfills. Even the office furniture and the sign greeting visitors at the door are recycled.

Rooftop panels were invisible to passers by and maintained the building's historic facade.

“In 2006, after taking stock of our organizational carbon emissions, we committed to greening all aspects of our operations,” said Case. “We knew we could do more. And as a conservation organization, we felt it was important to lead by example. Going green is shrinking our carbon footprint and saving us money. We’ve already cut our wter usage by more than 30 percent and expect to cut our overall energy consumption this year by nearly half.”

Acquiring LEED certification for an existing building is a more complex and rigorous undertaking than certification for a new building. Modifications required to meet standards for existing buildings must work within or around, limitations that new buildings don’t have since they are designed from the start with efficiencies in mind.

The building’s historic status added an extra layer of complexity to the endeavor, involving permitting delays and design restrictions. “But even with this restrictive designation, we were easily able to install the latest technology that blends into our building design,” Case said.

Written by Naomi Sodetani.  All photos copyright Grady Timmons/TNC.

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Classmates (dot) com – http://www.classmates.com

I am relatively new to the website, but I wanted to jot down some great ways to start reaching out to your old classmates.

Join Communities
(high school, college, and employers)

When you join communities you will be instantly connected with other members who share the same background. For instance, when I entered my high school and the years I attended, I was able to immediately see a list of members who had been at my high school during those years. I could also narrow down the list to see members who graduated the same year as me.

On each list, you will have the option to view other members profiles, send a message to them, or send them a friend request.

Utilize Communities

After becoming a part of a community there are a variety of options open to you. The website provides standard pages for each community. On my high school’s site the tabs include: school home, member list, message board, and photo albums.

The website also has homepages for each graduated class. Class pages have tabs that include: class home, member list, message board, photo albums, announcements, and events.

Take time to explore these options.

Gold Membership (optional)

Right now the website is offering an annual gold membership for $9.95 (it states the normal rate is $39). Gold membership offers distinct benefits.

1. View guestbook signatures
2. See where friends live now
3. Read all your bulletin board notes
4. Send Classmates Email anyone can read
5. Read all Classmates Email you receive
6. Plan reunions and events

Personally, I do not have the Gold Membership. However, for marketing purposes, it may be a wise decision to have the opportunities listed above.

My Review

It’s a good website, that serves a distinct purpose. The only advantage that I have seen so far is in marketing. On Facebook, advertising can only target graduates of a specific college and not a high school.

Recently, a client had the need to target his high school classmates. For now, Facebook does not offer the option to target graduates of any high school, just students who are currently in high school. For my client, Classmates.com was the best option for his needs because the gold membership gave them the option of e-mailing classmates directly.

I will continue to explore this site, and perhaps provide an update in the future.

BEWARE: The website is advertisement heavy — Way too much. It feels intrusive. I still prefer Facebook, but this is specifically for reconnecting with classmates (obviously).

How often does it happen that you bump into someone and you later realize that you’d actually known each other when you were kiddos.

Yeah. It does happen. Happened to me at least.

Started following @nobia_parker on twitter, on the day of her birthday (Thanks to @punkster101 for wishing her repeatedly for me to notice her). Followed her. And a li’l more than a month after the day, I now realize that we were classmates. Yeah. In 2^nd grade. How totally unbelievable!

I feel like saying this dialogue, “Some things are destined to happen”

I wouldn’t have realized this ever if it wasn’t for twitter and her podcast.

Just happened to listen to her podcast only to realize that she was in the same school as me!

Went through hell lotta confusion. Tried to figure out if we were in the same batch. Took 2 long days to realize we were in the same class!

Aah! I have nothing more to say. Only I know the kind of excitement and happiness and whatever things I felt.

Epic.

And I’m keeping this real short cause:

1. I’m have no words to describe how I feel
2. I have my exams goin on and I need to get outta here & study!

So, all in all this one’s for you girl… @nobia_parker

Love.

And Long Live Twitter!

Peace.

Still the only thing fresh in this town is the manure.   The stagnation of inherited inbred ideology lingers with this aire.  To some, this night of memorabilia is their only experience of a dream.  Long lost hopes, from the gates of a requiem walking hand in hand with a Coors light and some road kill at their side.  For others, it was like the day after their cousin married outside of their race… being careful with their words, afraid to ask real questions…  None the less, no real care to take a step out.

After the bar was spit up on by the drooling outsiders, the classmate’s reunited and separated once again into their old cliques. 

Lacking any real truth, with manipulating, superficial honesty, they go back and forth with attacks on each other and those they feel threatened by.   Curtness and lack of propriety in their values and morals with each breath out, they seem to be warm and cozy in their disgusting dialog.  The pot calling the kettle black.  Gossiping about gossipers.  Tragedy of life being so pitiful is the only reality here that is spoken, though the directors of this play haven’t the faintest idea of how the script is as old as their addicted, handed down, rewinded and rewinded ”original ideas” that they all share and pretend are so original.  Each actor plays the part of enabling this to continue, playing ignorant and growing older. 

 I sit to wait for the tow truck.  Keys in the trunk, sister in His bed.  The one exception I saw all night and I offered her to him, best indeed.  To keep myself from a weakness that could bring this place… this heap of a town closer to me.  I doubt there would be any power from him, but I stay careful of tragedy and a trip into hell.

This is Part Two of the Punahou Bulletin Class Notes describing our 15th reunion. This was written by Nancy Dew Metcalf. If you missed it, click here to view Part One of this report.

KATHY MACDONALD is living in San Francisco and works for an Executive Search Co. She is also working on a patent for a high tech product. JAMES MEE, ADRIAN ROSEHILL and PAUL GOTO are all working together at the law firm of Ashford and Wriston downtown. FRED HU runs “Hi Tech Embroidery” and specializes in embroidered shirts. We’re working on him to supply us with 20th reunion shirts! SHANNON BROWNLEE was here and in the process of moving to Washington D.C. from New York where she is taking a writing job with U.S. News and World Report. CHARLES LOOMIS is an attorney with Rush, Moore, et al. GAYE MIYASAKI is an attorney on the litigation team with the City and County of Honolulu. WAIAU KAULUKUKUI is a teacher at Moanalua High School. JACK WRIGHT is managing health spas in Memphis. John Morgan runs Kualoa Ranch and has two sons with wife Kerri. EARL NAKAYA is selling real estate and has his own company and is married and has one daughter. ALTON KOMORI is an accountant for Island Title. BETSY ABTS is living in Portland, OR, where she runs the American Dance Theatre Inc. and the Abts American Dance Theatre. CATHY KAM Ho is a medical secretary. CLAY BERK is a Medical Intensive Care Technician but hopes to open his own lunchwagon; perhaps he will be catering our 20th reunion! SHANNON CROWELL Atkinson is just back from Australia and settling in Honolulu with husband and daughter Maile Dawn. ROBIN HAWES Kaimikaua and her husband Carl live on Maui with their three children. They own Kipahulu Farms, a landscaping and maintenance company. CORALIE CHUN is the Executive Director of the Hawaii Institute for Continuing Legal Education and President of the Young Lawyers Association for the Hawaii State Bar. A very busy lady with three small children and a husband too! MOSI TATUPU was back and said he will be back again in anoher 15 years. He will continue with the New England Patriots for two more years. MARY JANE MARKOSKIE is a dorm counselor at Kamehameha Schools.

I know I’m out of room again. I’ll list some names that were at the town reunion, PATTY ROSS Knowlton and DOUG, MIKE MIKASA, LINDA PEACOCK, ANN MARTIN, ELEANOR BELL, ROBIN FONG, MONICA DEL PIANO (always a camera in hand!), JUDD HASKINS, ANN AKANA, ALLAN DOWSETT,EVA SEGOVIA, SHEREE ECKHAMMER, GREG BOXOLD, WILMA WONG, SUSAN YEE, TANYA YAMADA, LANDIS LUM, WARREN CHAIKO LISA YAMAGUCHI — if I’ve left you out I’m sorry! Write me again. It was great to see everyone, let’s look forward to our 20th!

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November 9, 2009 10:45

my lesson plan for tomorrow is all in pencil and not quite finished, but i can’t take it anymore.  i have crazy, roiling desires battling around my head, and some of them are for getting words out, down, on paper, out of my head.  want to just type and type until all the stories are told.  it has been making me crazy that there is no time for journal, no time for this.  need to make time for this, this last week, while i should be researching the future continuous tense and reporting on the form and function of question tags and non-defining relative clauses.  my head is so full of grammar that i can’t form words anymore.

we were learning about homonyms today, and terry told that joke about a duck walking into a store for lip balm.  “will that be cash or charge?”

“just put it on my bill.”

ha!  bill!  get it!  a duck has a bill!  lip balm!

sigh.

but i was trying to note the joke as a good way to tell about homonyms and i wrote in my notes:

“a bill:  shows how much money you owe.  a bill:  duck face.”

duck face!  that’s the best i could do.

the other day terry was teaching us some sort of grammar that i can’t even remember, using nature programs of crazy-hunting wild dogs (y’know, the one … the pretty pretty one.  with the fancy cameras.  and sir Attenborough.) and i tried to write the model sentence in my notebook, and i wrote “the dogs accatk.”  and i looked at it.  and i couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it.

so goddamn tired.

we are in our last week and i am getting maudlin, but at the same time i am getting done with it.  which is why i am not looking up the future continuous, nor writing a plan to elicit “give my regards,” nor writing sample emails and cutting them into strips for students to reassemble.  i am rebelling against the idea that i can continue without getting some of these damn words out of my head.

ok, no one is claiming that i can, but still …

so i was sick on the morning of my birthday.  friday morning.  but i had to teach in the afternoon, so i had mom go and bring in my lesson plan for me (you have to have your lesson plan done in the morning that you teach.  no working on it during our class time, or over lunch.  if you don’t have it turned in, you get a zero and don’t get to teach.)  i slept as much as i could, and cursed my crazy sinuses, and read a little.  then i got up just in time to catch the end of our second session.  our entire class was milling around the middle of the room, talking to each other, and throwing their hands open, up and down, as they spoke.  it is how we are taught to teach stress in a word.  very visual.  ‘vi su al.  hand up (fingers exploding outwards), then lower, then lower.  i wish i could draw a picture of it. can’t now.  no time for love, dr. jones.

it was surreal, to feel on the outside of the class for the very first time.  it was the only time i missed any class, and we are tight knit.  to an extent.  you have to be, to get through this. we help each other out.  and it felt so lonely to see them all throwing their hands up, fingers flying out, like hand puppets were pecking at each other.  and me out in the hallway.  all alone.

that feeling passed pretty much right away, when everyone poured out for lunch and wished me such a happy birthday and did i feel better and happy happy birthday.  everyone, happy birthday.  overwhelming.  so nice.  and then mom dragged me in to see the trainers, as they had been asking about me, and wanted to make sure that i was ok.  trisha gave me some amazing kind of cold medicine, and gave me a helpful warning about the lesson i was about to teach, and they both wished me happy birthday, and we made jokes about drinking and taking the cold medicine and a drink and teaching quantifiers.  “lemme tellluuuuu.  yuuuuu neeedta know thish.”

kate asked me if we were doing anything for my birthday and i said, probably not.  just dinner.  nothing special maybe tomorrow.

she kinda said, “uh huh” and went back to her lunch.

and then we weren’t observed, which means my next (and last) two lessons will be observed, so i should make sure they are good. but i’m not.  i’m drinking birthday wine and writing this. but the lesson went so well, and was sort of a turning point in my lessons.  and in between, during the break, Michael drew a cake on the board, and a 40 (my present), and had the class sing me happy birthday, and it was good.  i blew on his white board cake as i erased the big black flames we had drawn and the supermodel Russian guy in the back of the room commented on the number of candles.  “ha ha!  you are three years old!”

afterwards mom rushed me out the door of the classroom, and out the door of the villa (the name of the building that a lot of us live in), and to the metro, and down to the restaurant where Thomas and CR took us for the pub crawl, way back at the beginning of this whole fiasco.  we had some dinner, and a beer, and we were sitting there for a while, watching the lumbersports on eurosport.  these guys were chopping logs incredibly fast, and i was actually getting into it, and mom was, too, i thought (she lied), and she kept offering me more beer and dessert and more food and anything else i may want.  i haven’t had a cigarette in over two weeks, so the smoke in the restaurant was getting to me, so i thought it would be nice to take a walk.

so we paid the bill and left.

or walked outside, at any rate.

and mom got all flummoxed and told me, as we stood outside, that we couldn’t leave.  “it’s only 9!  we have to stay!”  i couldn’t understand why, and she was getting redder and redder.  finally she told me that Amanda was going to try to meet us for a drink, and it was supposed to be a surprise, so i should pretend to be surprised.  she wasn’t going to show up until 9:30 at the earliest, though, so we would have to go back in and have another beer.

a few minutes later Thomas and CR showed up.  i haven’t seen them since the pub crawl, and i just assumed that they just happened to be there.  they are facebook friends, so I wasn’t surprised when CR said “it’s your birthday, eh?” and gave me a big hug.  (actually, somehow CR and i didn’t become facebook friends until the day after all of this, some sort of oversight, so i probably should have had some sort of alarm go off when he knew, but hey.  sometimes i’m not so bright.  thank you, pilsner.)

finally mom admitted that they had been contacted specially.  she hadn’t needed to.  i didn’t smell any sort of rat at all.

that rat appeared when, minutes later, just when we were getting into a heated debate about all the things these alumni boys DIDN’T warn us about the course, most of the class came bursting through the front door, with hugs and bottles and birthday cards, and we were all so tired and sick and dying, but they all came out to have a drink with me on my birthday and give me things and, oh … it was so good.

and, yes, Amanda was there.  and 16 other people, too.

i was so surprised.

really.

and i have tried to organize birthday parties for myself, and i have tried to hint at surprise parties, and i have had surprise parties thrown for me.  there is an aspect of san francisco life that makes people too busy to stop and care.  i know.  i am often that person who is too busy to stop and care.  so all those parties were usually kinda depressing and not so good.

so i never expected.

i have grown so unused to expecting.

that was probably the best birthday i have had in a long time.  it was unexpected, and it took a lot to get everyone there.  and they were all on the verge of sleeping in their beer.

i guess i’m saying it was good.

and then Thomas and CR put us on the wrong tram.  but the view of this crazy fake-looking magic city out of the opening tram window, just big enough for my head, i stuck my face out to watch it all go by.

entrancing.

in love with everything right now.

and i have to write some sample emails and go to sleep.

love, janice.  11:26 pm

October 31, 2009 7:43 pm

happy Halloween.  i’m fucking freaking out.

we have a grammar presentation on tuesday or wednesday, but we all have to be prepared for tuesday, and i have been researching my grammar point and i was researching the wrong tense (like, for five days) and who the fuck knows what the present perfect is anyway?  and if i’m teaching the passive voice, why do i have to study two goddamn tenses?  can’t i just teach to be + past participle?  why give me this other shit, too?

argh.

haven’t eaten enough today and i’m about to be interrupted to eat, so that’s a good thing, but i need to stop thinking about this presentation and just do something else.  so i started looking for some papers for the other four lessons i have to plan this week and i can’t fucking find them anywhere.  they completely disappeared in the mess of my life, which i cleaned up this morning, and it’s making me feel crazier than i already feel.

it’s Halloween and i don’t want to go out because i am already so cranky and antisocial that i just want to shut myself in this room and not talk to anyone, a mood that’s rubbing off on my mom and making us snap at each other unnecessarily, and i think i really have to eat, and then maybe all the answers will show up and all my missing papers will show up and then everything will be ok.

arrgh.

more later.

October 31, 2009 10:30pm

the rest of my class is having an annoying loud party above my head and i am being a curmudgeon and wishing that they would shut up.  i don’t like being this cranky.  today was the first day that i realized that it’s going to get darker earlier, and that the winter is really coming, and that i have so much to do this next week and i don’t know how the fuck i am going to get it done.

but i do feel better after eating, and doing all the reading for the next week, and deciding to stop looking everywhere for the 20^th time for papers that do not exist.  i am deciding that they don’t exist.

i think the landlord may have reminded them that there is a 10 pm quiet time, because they have just shut the fuck up.  thank whoever.  maybe they will go out.  i will state again that i do not want to be this much of a curmudgeon.

we woke up pretty early today, which felt ok, as the room had been a mess and i was feeling insane about it.  i organized all my papers and put away my clothes.  it wasn’t until the afternoon that i realized these papers are gone, that i haven’t seen them since i copied them last night/got them back from a fellow student.  i have no idea what happened to them.  they have really ceased to exist.  i will stop harping on this i swear.

but before that we decided to go for a walk and find the post office that we still don’t know how to use.  we turned down Kolbenova.  I thought it was right on that main street, so I hadn’t looked for a cross street or anything.  looked pretty close.  Turns out it is slightly on a cross street, but it’s hard to tell that when you are looking at a map that is hanging on the wall way over your head.

We live up the hill from Sokolovska/Kolbenova and Freyova.  if you turn one way off of Freyova you end up on this street (Sokolovska) that heads all the way into staré město (old town).  if you turn the other way, it sort of turns into Kolbenova, which is where we went.  this was sort of a bad idea for my current state of mind.

we’ve been in, for lack of a better word, Indian summer the last week.  the trees are turning and the view is stunning and the weather has been balmy.  Last night was the first time that the chill of winter started to creep back into the air.  I could smell snow, with a certainty that i haven’t encountered in a long time.  and, coupled with the time change, i was already in a fragile state of mind.  and then we turned left.

i don’t know what it is about that street that just killed my soul.  the day was grey, and cold enough to snow.  and suddenly the amount of traffic seemed to multiply to the level that i was choking on exhaust.  there weren’t more cars, just less trees.  and then we got to the giant, crumbling factory.  usually i am overjoyed with industrial wasteland.  this, though, filled me with dread.  the longer we headed down the street, the more freaked with melancholy i became.  it was almost paralyzing.  my mood crumbled, like broken factory windows.

then i spent the rest of the day building melancholy into terrorized panic, and then realizing that i needed food, i was able to sort of stop working up the panic.  now i’ve slid back down to just, well, melancholy.

i think i need to stop typing.  stories are getting away from me.  i’m trying to make sure that i at least write them down.  i carry a blank book with me everywhere, so i can get things down.  there’s just too much school going on right now.  i have to type up a lot of the stuff in that book, and where is the time for that?

soon.  11:16pm

Only in the past two days people:

“What I need is a bottle of whiskey. And a can of red bull. And my car so I can drive around.”

Dillhole: What’d you get on the test man?

Pooface: 140!

Dillhole: Whoa man that is unheard of, Nice one man.

Pooface: Ya I totally raped that test. Bent it over the desk and raped it.

(Me, talking out loud, sitting next to them, completely unheard) Really?

Dillhole: Ya you totally dominated that test.

(Oh my god. Raped and dominated?)

Pooface: Ya totally dominated that bitch, man.

(Are you kidding me with this shit?)

And then either the point got across or the professor walked in.

I have an inkling which one it was, but who knows.

Having thought I was through with the latest issue of the Punahou Bulletin, I was putting it into the circular file. It was then that I noticed the picture on the back. Recognize anyone? Perhaps I do. Perhaps you do too.

The back cover of the Punahou Bulletin is where the Archives places photos for which they need identification help. There had been one of my first grade class, Mrs. Ford’s class, a few years ago. I did my best to identify everyone but wasn’t totally sure of each face. Maybe, working together and enlisting the wonders of technology, we can do better. Maybe we can offer a 100%-sure response to this latest ‘74-related picture request.

Punahou74 second grade fun in the art room in the Castle Hall basement.

Here’s what Punahou is asking:

Can you help us identify these second-graders from the Class of 1974? They appear to be having fun with paper mache. Do you know what they were making? Please help us with the students’ names and/or any stories from this year.

Looking at the picture, it seems to me that it might be Marty Stifel reaching across the table. Kelly Nakano must be the dark haired lad on the right and Keahi Farden the dark haired boy on the left. What do you think?

The blondes? Hard for me to tell. As you took art in those days with your classmates, I found that Marty, Kelley, and Keahi were in Mrs. Furman’s class. Looking at the Na Opio pictures, the blondes that I see in this class are David Howell, Scott Metcalf, Billy Thacker, and John Morgan. Which of these are in the photo, I’m not sure. Maybe you can tell?

Here is the list of the boys that were in Mrs. Furman’s class in case I have missed the mark on any of my identifications: Clay Berk, Allan Dowsett, Keahi Farden, David Howell, Landis Lum, Jamie Mee, Scott Metcalf, John Morgan, Kelley Nakano, Marty Stifel, Billy Thacker, and Burke Zen.

If you can help out, PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS POST (not facebook or Twitter!). I want to send the Archives here when we have this all figured out. Let’s have everything in one place.

Remember … They would like to know what is being made here and any other second grade stories. Please feel free to expound. One idea? Do you remember what happened one November morning when you heard about President Kennedy’s assassination?  Inquiring minds want to know.

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10/18/09 8:53 pm

school starts tomorrow.  i hope that i will be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep tonight.  i’m still unable to shut off my brain.  it can’t quite still be jetlag, can it?

wrote a little yesterday afternoon, but then i didn’t get to cover the rest of Friday, nor Wenceslas square, nor the pub crawl yesterday, Saturday.  we weren’t sure we were going to go, mostly because we hadn’t been out at night, we’ve been barely sleeping, we hadn’t really met any of the other students yet, blah blah.  us deitners are antisocial creeps, i guess.  it was being hosted by two alumni of the course, who took the course back in march.

we were actually the first to show up, though we got there pretty much on time.  maybe a few minutes early.  i am constantly struck with a neurosis about time, and end up places incredibly early.  but when we met the two who were taking us drinking, i wished we could just turn around, say we made a mistake and head back home.  not that they were jerks or anything.  they were just drinking already, and we were the first, and well, i didn’t want it to be just me and mom and two guys we didn’t know.  and they looked, kinda, i hate to say, like American hipster dudes (sorry, guys).  turns out looks are always deceiving, duh.

i suppose this is as good a time as any to say that i am ultra-concerned about being an American in prague; about how many of us there are here, how many choose to live here, and how they choose to do it. not that i want to dictate how others live, but  i am almost obsessed with being polite, by not fucking up, by not being an American.  turns out twice last night the American-ness became an issue.  or, rather, once the American-ness became an issue and once our own ignorance made things feel icky to me.  but i will get to that.  for now, we were waiting for others to arrive.

it wasn’t long before the rest showed up in dribs and drabs.  sara and kate, who we had met already, and then everyone else, who we hadn’t met.  well, we met melissa earlier that day, only briefly, while she was trying desperately to lock the front gate.  it was good to attach faces to this list we had had emailed to us.  it was extra good to talk to sara and realize that she worked, until coming to prague, in a feminist/queer sex and book shop in ottowa.  yes!  kindred spirits, lefty book nerds, sex positive alterna-institution geeks!  made me sigh deeply with relief.

once we had waited long enough to be sure that no one else was coming, we headed to the metro and took it to the old town.  our hosts showed us how to catch the late night tram back from the old town, how to buy metro tickets, what to do if stopped by a fare inspector and you do not have a validated ticket (prague’s public transit runs on tickets, which can be bought in metro machines or at newsstands.  you have to validate the ticket as you enter the metro station, or the bus or tram. the validated ticket is good for transfers up to 75 minutes.   if you do not have a validation, or you have an expired validation, you can be fined.  if you are, they told us, the best choices are to pay the fine right away (makes it a lot cheaper, like $25-30-ish instead of $50-plus-ish) or run.  they cannot put hands on you if you run.  who knew?  could have saved us a lot of trouble in the past).

we got off at the same metro station (Narodni trida, if i can figure out how to make the accents on my computer thing i will) that mom and i exited at on Friday, our first day out of the neighborhood.  if you turn right out of the station, and down a sloping hill, the street gets narrower and narrower as you head into the old town.  i think.  we may have turned, but in my mind it was a straight shot.  then, at a cobbled intersection of dwarflike proportions you come to a pub and restaurant that i stupidly thought i would remember the name of.  stupid.  i know that one of the other students wrote it down, so i will have to ask her what it was called.  there were a lot of locals there, but it was close enough to old town that they must have had to deal with a lot of tourist jerks.  turns out they screwed up our reservation anyway, so we did not have the table for 17 or whatever that we thought we would have.  we had to split up into two separate groups, which was actually fine, because i can’t imagine trying to talk down the length of a table that would hold us all.

instead there were nine of us at our table, and we got to talk and get to know each other a little bit.  and we got to hear a little about the school, despite our hosts’ insistence that they would only talk in direct proportion to the amount of beer we bought them.  not only did we not buy them any beer in the time mom and i stayed with them, they even gave vodka to mom.  we heard enough about the school to make me wish we had a few days more off before the start of it all.  it is going to be intense.  and the director is somewhat of a grammar bully.  or so i hear.  i am keeping an open mind until i come to the same conclusion myself.

some people had food, we had already eaten before meeting the others so we had beer.  oh the beer was so good.  i can’t even … i don’t normally think about the freshness of beer or whatever, and i usually, until now, drank anchor steam, which was made not too far from my house, or full sail, and who cares how fresh that is, its worker-owned! (ok, if it sucked i wouldn’t drink it).  but there was a noticeable difference between a bottle of pilsner urquell in the states and a bottle of pilsner urquell from the grocery store here in prague and a large glass of pilsner urquell in that pub we were in (if i had only written down the name …), the last being, obviously, duh, the best.  my god.  i was surprised.  and smitten.

i was about to order my third when one of our hosts told us we were wrapping up and heading on.  unfortunately the other host, at the other table, had misunderstood or misinterpreted the hand gesture that meant “wrap up and head on” so we found ourselves waiting for the other table to catch up while we pissed off our waitress just trying to pay the bill.  mom had already confused her earlier by making sure we weren’t charged for the bread she had brought to the table, which we weren’t, but we didn’t touch it anyway.  all the guidebooks make you paranoid about the fact that they ask if you want water and you say yes and then they charge you for it.  or they don’t ask and just bring it, leaving you thinking that it is free of charge.  as one of our hosts reiterated last night, nothing is free of charge here.  it is the same way in Poland, but it makes you paranoid, and then it makes you feel like an asshole.  the bread is free, the pretzels are not.  if you take a pretzel from the display on the table they will charge you for all of them.  still, somehow, one of our number was later spotted on the street eating one of the nasty, brutish pretzels.

so that was one of the first asshole American moments, the bread, and the bill.  the next came quickly when, waiting for some of our party to be done in the bathroom, a largish man in polo shirt and buzz cut, sporting interesting scars and divots all over the back of his head, came up to one of our hosts and threw an arm around him and started talking at him.  our host told him that he didn’t speak very good Czech, and the hanger-on asked if he spoke English.  i was talking to sara about our drinks of choice while all of this was going on, so i kept missing parts of their conversation. i know that there was a lot of hanging and drunken hugging and slurring and our host was gracious and all yes yes, sure.  i turned just in time to hear our host say that we were all American here, which made sara, one of our two Canadians, balk.  the drunken clinger replied, in broken English stilted by drink, “American?  i’ll tell you … Americans … are … stupid.  they are stupid.  Americans …. are … stupid.”

there was laughing and shocked looks and somehow we extricated ourselves, only to leave the restaurant without saying goodbye to the workers, which is a big social no-no.  some Americans are stupid.

ok, there’s so much more to write about the orientation walk today, which was ridiculous, and castle, which was beautiful, and the Czech view of religion, and the rest of the pub crawl, and i’m afraid details are getting away from me, but i need to go to sleep.  class tomorrow.  more soon.  someday this will maybe be online?  maybe?  someday.

love, love.  10:03 pm

Ah~ Mondays. How tired you make me. 

It’s been quite a while since I’ve last updated :3 

Updates!

I’m entering a team competition with a bunch of classmates! It’s a student competition where there’s a set menu on the first day of 1 appetizer, 1 main entree, and 1 dessert(I’m guessing). The winners then get to choose one student and then go into a black box competition with the other finalist. It’s INTENSE. How intense? I’ve got to spend a lovely 15 hours at school everyday except Sunday(Thank God!) to practice, after class that is. Even on Remembrance Day ._. Well at least I can watch the memorial service since my school is right in front of Victory Square. (Haha…) I hope I can do well. Wish me luck ; – ; This is my first serious cooking competition. And truth to be told, I’m kind of scared shitless. You can always tell when I write a huge paragraph. So yea. WISH ME LUCK ; A ;

Class has been interesting. Chef Hutton is awesome. LOL He actually notices who’s working and who’s not. So I always feel bubbly when he starts lecturing really loudly to those who just stand around eating and doing nothing productive. Mean of me? Kind of. Fair? Very. <3

Some pretty interesting things happened today in class, besides the fact that I was chosen to sign my soul to Chef Krentz who is in charge of the competition.
I found this!

Weird, eh? o_o I swear to god it’s not photoshop. Believe me, I’m a photoshop noob. 

Kevin loved it o_O

Yea. I’ve found some pretty fucked up carrots. I’m not very fond of carrots, but god was this fun xD

One really, really, really long carrot.

“Beepity Bopity BOOP!!”

Omg! Its HUUUUUGE! It’s taller than Kev! LOL

Foodstuff we’ve been making in class:

Panfried Sole with brown butter caper sauce. Parsley and paprika on a lemon wedge as garnish. I made this one <3

I’m guessing these are panko crusted duchesse potatoes.

Swiss steak with demi sauce with a carrot puree and parsley as garnish.

Yepyeps. Now I have to go study the recipes. 
Nights <3

At our 30th a card was out to sign for Ro Johnson who was too ill to attend our reunion. The card was filled with friendly and heartfelt messages for this popular guy. Unfortunately, our efforts were for naught. Ro would be at reunions no more.

Ro Johnson's senior section in the 1974 Oahuan.

Ro Johnson was a member of our class from day one and made an impression on all who were around him. Roseanne Mandel Levine said that “he was always enthusiastic about everything, to the point of being gregarious. He made ordinary situations hilarious and fun.” Regina Yarchever remembered that Ro “was truly a gentlman…even at 17!! and he had such a spirit of Aloha!! He will be missed!”

Ro Johnson and Marcia Wright with their basses in the '73 Oahuan.

Several recalled that he was a member of the Punahou orchestra. Said Gaye Miyasaki: “I remember when I was in the Punahou Orchestra with Ro, I asked him how come he stayed in the Orchestra all these years when several of our friends dropped out. He said he loved playing the bass!” Marcia Wright also shared music and other memories: “I played bass with Ro… He was a great guy in HS. And he came to my college [California Lutheran University] for one semester until he karanged his knee in football and had to come home.. Good memories of Ro.”

A college-time memory was shared by Gigi Dennis Ewing: “When I was at college in Washington [Whitworth College, now Whitworth University], my roommate and I went on spring break to California. We ran into Ro at the Ghiradelli Chocolate shop at Fisherman’s Wharf in SF…so totally random! But it was great to see him. I think it was Spring of 1976.”

Ro Johnson in a '73 Oahuan football candid.

As Marcia noted, Ro was a football player. Bobby Chinn has another memory of Ro’s football prowess: “On the gridiron he was a hard-nosed player who went all out and hit pretty hard. I can’t remember if he played offensive guard or linebacker but either way, if you were on the opposing team during game time, he wasn’t such a nice guy to meet.”

Bobby also bumped into Ro after Punahou: “I ran into Ro two or three times during the 13 years that I worked at Castle Hospital in Kailua from ‘91-’04, prior to his falling ill and my move to the mainland. I believe he was visiting or accompanying family members who were there for one treatment or another. Each time I saw him he greeted me like a long-lost, best friend which, of course, was how he made everyone feel. He was one of the warmest and genuinely nicest guys you’d ever want to meet. A co-worker at Castle whose father had flown in the Air National Guard with Ro and with Ro’s father had kept me up to date with Ro’s activities through the years. I’m just glad that I had a chance to see him during those years in Kailua.”

Kindergarten Na Opio photo: Ro Johnson with classmates.

Some of the most heartfelt memories are held by class members who spent time with Ro outside of Punahou. Barclay Bullock remembers “going to a family Luau out at his place on north shore, great time. Also remember going water skiing in his boat along with John Morgan and being in the dog house for breaking the light on the back of the boat. Ro was always such a positive person and knew how to have fun!”

Ted Pryor offered: “Ro and I were cribmates together! We were neighbors in the late fifties in Kaneohe (near also Bonnie Judd ‘73) where his family lived and there is a picture somewhere of us together at age 3 months! We spent a summer together clearing brush on Maui as teenagers. His mother Claire Johnson (former Miss Hawaii) supplied flowers (www.flowerfarmhawaii.com) to my wedding in Michgan. I seem to recall he won the ‘best looking’ hoss award once upon a time, which he said he hated. Yes, he was alwasy upbeat and fun! He was a lovely guy from a lovely family.”

Jim Howerton described his memories of Ro as “comfortable” and wrote that:

Sixth grader Ro Johnson and classmates demonstrate the latest in classroom high tech c. 1968: the overhead projector.

Ro Johnson’s father Kurt and my father flew together in Korea in the Air Force in 1953. When we moved to Hawaii our introduction to Ohana was at the Johnson’s in Kaneohe where I met Ro and Arna and Koa, who was in diapers. Ro treated my brother and me to a canoe trip to the island in the bay by their house, taught us the names of many of the fish we saw and tempted us to grab the baby hammerheads that were swimming in the shallow water. Every visit to the Johnson’s had some kind of similar adventure.

When I came to Punahou there were so many things to do and learn that I would only occasionaly cross paths with Ro but he always had a kind question and a smile on his face. We didn’t have many classes together but that never seemed to make a difference.

By coincidence my good friend Scott, who lived in Aiea, joined the Hawaii Air Guard and became friends of Ro and his dad Kurt. By the time I returned to the islands for the first time in 1985 he and Ro had become a team, flying together frequently. The three of us played a few games of racquetball and went sailing. It seemed as no time had gone by rather than twelve years. I saw Ro almost every time I was back in the islands. The sense of ohana that the Johnson family first introduced me to seemed to be part of Ro’s essence. Ro had a presence that made people gravitate to him and a way that made every one happy that they knew him.

My friend Scott kept me apprised of Ro’s illness, his initial remission, the death of his father and finally, Ro’s passing. I am sad that someone who was so outgoing and inclusive is no longer there.

On October 29, 2009 Arna Johnson offered a pictorial tribute to her brother, Ro. Writing a blog post titled, “Happy Rojo Day!!!”, she posted some wonderful pictures of him along with this:

Today we celebrate the life of my brother Ro, a true gift to his family and everyone who knew him. If you didn’t know him you may have heard of him. He was an F-15 pilot with the Hawaii Air National Guard and a Captain for Hawaiian Airlines. It was this day three years ago that he moved on to serve a greater purpose. It was his heartwarming smile, his sincere kindness, and his sheer love and zest for life that is most mentioned about him.

“Rojo” was Ro’s call sign when he was flying for the National Guard. Arna says that she likes to celebrate the fact that Ro’s spirit is soaring, “so we call it ‘Happy Rojo Day’.” Soaring, yes. Just as we all knew he would.

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]]> http://fenilandbollywood.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/3379/ Sat, 07 Nov 2009 03:53:05 +0000 fenilseta http://fenilandbollywood.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/3379/ http://johncr8on.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/the-greatest-game-ever/ Wed, 04 Nov 2009 18:12:33 +0000 johncr8on http://johncr8on.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/the-greatest-game-ever/

Game Six 1985 World Series

I will be cheering for the Philadelphia Phillies tonight in Game 6 of the World Series.  Truth be told I won’t see much, if any, of the game because I will be at a school board meeting.  But, I’ll still be cheering for the Phillies.

I’m not a Phillies fan.  It still sticks in my craw the way Pete Rose interfered with a double play ball swinging momentum from the Kansas City Royals to the Phillies in game five of the 1980 World Series.  The Phillies won in six.

I have been an avowed Yankees hater ever since first baseman Chris Chambliss hit a Mark Littell fastball over the right field fence in the bottom of the ninth inning of the decisive game 5 of the 1976 American League Champion Series.  The Royals scored three runs in the eighth inning to tie the score.  I felt confident that the Royals’ reliever, Littell, could take the game to extra innings.  I sat on my mom’s lap and cried for at least thirty minutes when the Chambliss fly ball cleared the fence.

The Royals were at the center of my universe from 1976 to 1980.  Those were the Royals’ glory years and I was eleven to fifteen years old.  A perfect combination.  I listened on the radio to at least part of all 162 Royals games for five straight seasons.  My neighbor Mamo Hayden is the only other person I know who can make that claim.

We have cheering rules in our house.  For college sports, the rules are to cheer for the Kansas Jayhawks first, the Big 12 second and never for Mizzou.  The rules for baseball are similar.  Cheer for the Kansas City Royals first, then the Orioles, Red Sox and Rockies (places we’ve lived) and never, ever, ever for the Yankees (I don’t care how nice a guy Joe Torre was when he was manager of the Yankees).  The Royals losing to the Yankees three straight years in the play-offs etched that ethic in stone.

The Phillies can take heart.  A three game to one World Series deficit can be overcome.  I witnessed part of such a miracle when the Royals came back from a similar deficit against the St. Louis Cardinals in the 1985 World Series.

The Royals were lucky to be in the World Series that year.  They lost three of the first four games of the 1985 American League Championship Series to the Toronto Blue Jays.  It was the first year the champion series was extended to seven games.  Any previous year, the Royals would have been done.

George Brett kept the Royals alive with two home runs in game three.  I attended game four of the playoffs with my dad, the night after my 21^st birthday.  It was a tough night.  The Blue Jays scored three in the ninth to put the Royals on the edge of elimination.  And, I had to break the news to my dad about some poor choices I made the night before (for another post).  But, the Royals somehow managed to win the next three games and set up the I-70 Series against the Cardinals.

I had a soft spot in my heart for the Cardinals.  Long time Royals manager Whitey Herzog and catcher Darrell Porter were part of the Cardinals organization by 1985.  I loved those guys.  But, this affection didn’t temper my passion to see the Royals win.

The Royals dropped the first three of four in the World Series just like they did in the play-offs.  My friend Matt Cunningham and I had tickets for game six of the Series and we were just hoping that game would be played.  Fortunately, the Royals won decisively in game five to bring the series back to Kansas City.

Matt was already in the television business by 1985 and scored us fantastic seats up the right field line just beyond first base.  They were the best tickets I’d ever had up to that time.

Charlie Leibrandt pitched a brilliant game six for the Royals but gave up the games’ only run in the eighth inning.  The Royals’ bats were cold.  The Cardinals’ Danny Cox was brilliant, too.  The feeling in the stands was somber.  A Royals’ victory seemed impossible with the team trailing 1-0 in the bottom of the ninth.

And, then, there was the call.  A Royals batter was incorrectly called safe at first.  Porter followed up the next few plays with a dropped pop foul and a missed tag on a bunt.  The miscues set up the Royals for a ninth inning rally for the ages – for Royals fans at least.  I will always consider this the greatest game I’ve ever witnessed.

Matt and I, along with thousands of other Royals fans, stood in the stadium and cheered for nearly an hour.  We cheered even longer in the parking lot because we could not remember where we parked the car.  We had to wait for the lots to clear out to find it.  While we were waiting, Paul Hayden jumped out of a passing vehicle and gave us both a bear hug.  It was that kind of night.

Game seven was not nearly so exciting.  The Royals pounded the Cardinals 11-0.  I was watching with about thirty members of my fraternity in the dining hall of our house.  The outcome became clear early so we all piled into cars to drive to Westport in Kansas City to join the celebration.

It was a good time to be a Royals fan.