This is a great excerpt from the almost-beselling book "
The Parrot Talks in Chocolate" (downloaded over 40,000 times at Amazon) which paints a great scene at the
Tiki bar there. Here's a little bit to enjoy now:
The
next evening was about as spectacular as they come. The sky was
brilliant and warm, replacing the previous day's rain with a mellow
dry breeze. Several nearby planets were reflecting the sun without
interference from any early stars, almost competing with the already
lit Tiki Torches. A fresh load of farm shrimp from Kahuku, Oahu had
been flown in that morning, Miho had brought up some Opihi from the
cliffs and Gregorio his best fillets down from his upcountry ranch.
Our
crowd was heavy, for whatever reason those anomalies occur, and the
Crew was feeling almost giddy with excitement. Coco had said it many
times, about her days as a skydiver groupie in Mokuleia: Skydiver
funerals were the best parties she had ever been to. Death had a
great talent for focusing appreciation in those left behind. An
extreme appreciation.
The
bar was filling up with a lot of happy voices. Turning up the iPod
just a notch I soon found myself moving in time to Stevie Wonder's
Pastime Paradise. The glasses came out of the coolers, sparkled soon
with cubes of ice and then moved down the bar full of color, garnish
and hope. My melancholy over Ococ was melting away under the music,
the smiling faces and the sweat of making it all happen. It was OK.
I knew. Knew it well. I had been to Mokuleia too.
The
crowd was thick, moving in some kind of rhythm as people made their
way to the bar, their tables or the bathrooms. Coco was flowing like
lava downhill, moving and grooving to the music and the orders.
Sandy was kicking it up a notch in the kitchen, singing so loud we
wished she was out on stage, with us. Ma & Pa were acting like
Mr and Mrs Claus, entertaining their Waikiki friends in true Tiki
style. Tiwaka was in fine form as well, taking chocolates and giving
advice. A true entertainer, I caught him putting some of the
chocolate aside, so he wouldn't get sick. I was keeping up, making
sure everyone had their first cocktail right away, and gearing up for
a steady night. The bar was well populated and so far, everyone was
watching the crowd. I got a few questions about this girl or that
guy, but nothing philosophical. Yet. The night was quite young, and
so was the mood.
Tiwaka
was at the end of the bar, slightly hidden behind one of the Tiki
lights obviously entertaining two lovelies from Lahaina. I kept
peeking down to see if he was behaving, or worse, losing feathers.
So far, so good. In front of my station was probably the most
comfortable bar stool we had and it was occupied by an elderly guy I
had never met before. He was nursing a Longboard Lager and
occasionally smiling. An old Aloha shirt, with coconut buttons,
draped itself over his light frame. As I moved down the bar, making
sure all was well, he pushed his empty toward the trough. He was
watching me, hoping to get my attention. In 2 seconds, I was there.
"Another
Longboard?"
"No,
thanks." He paused, looking up at our other selections, then
back to me. "What do you have that is new, maybe something
unheard of?"
I
looked at him for a moment, to gather his mood, to frame his question
and to think of something clever to respond with.
"Well.
Let me see. Unheard of you say?" Best to throw that item back
at him for some clarification.
He
smiled, pushed his weathered hands through his white mane and sat up
a bit before leaning forward. "You know, something you have
never made before. Got anything like that?"
"Ha!"
I exclaimed. "There's a wealth of things I have never made
before!" Thinking, thinking, what did this guy want? I could
offer him our Coco Loco Moco, in some unique variation, or risk
making something so horrible it could haunt him for days.
I
looked to see if I was falling behind, but Coco was not up yet with
new orders and the bar glasses were all full. I turned back to this
challenge. There had to be a clue, but I was getting nothing.
"I
heard about your dog," he said, catching me by surprise. "What
was his name? Something backwards I was told."
I
smiled broadly. Now I knew what I would make this guy.
"Ococ
was his name. He did everything backwards. So, sir, I will make you
a new drink, right here in front of you. History in the making."
"Great!"
He laughed at his luck and sat back to watch.
First,
a large Tiki mug, one of the custom Lee Ceramic models we had been so
fortunate to get. Second, the libation, 4 parts. Then, the mixer,
this time a nice combination of lime, coconut water and several spots
of cranberry. Finally, the ice.
"I
present the Ococ. Made backwards, of course." Sliding the work
of art toward the man, I knew I had something special. He held it in
both hands, feeling the carve of the smiling Tiki in the sides of the
beautiful mug, and slowly brought it up inhaling the subtleties. I
stood back, letting him enjoy something new. Glancing down the bar
at Tiwaka I saw he was now on top of someone's head, flapping his
wings slowly like a shadow dancer.
"Tiwaka!"
I chided softly as I quickly made my way down to rescue the scalp of
whomever he had anointed.
"He's
heavier than I thought," one of the lovelies from Lahaina said
shyly. She was indeed a looker.
"Tiwaka,
come down." I held out my hand, as he slowly gave me the left
eye, then folding his wings in slow motion, the other eye. I tilted
my head like him, closed one eye, then tilted the other way, reopened
and then closed my other eye. Finally, I stood tall and said his
name once more, a little deeper, holding out my hand, just above her
head.
He
took one long step, like bridging a puddle, coming back from what I
already knew was a new infatuation. Sitting him down onto the bar,
he turned and bowed his head a couple of times, saying, "Mahalo,
Mahalo"
The
girls giggled a little, feeling relieved of the unusual attention.
"Another
few minutes," I mentioned, "And he would have made you his
Queen." Her friend poked her lightly in the side, just as the
Boys of Summer swooped in to fill the gap.
Walking
back to my station, I found the old guy pushing his Ococ back toward
the trough. He looked very satisfied.
Wiping
the bar top in front of him, I smiled and asked, "So, how did
you like it?"
He
looked around to see if anyone was listening, as if anyone might, and
back up to me.
"I'm
an old guy, ya know."
I
nodded, and waited.
"'I'm
so stoked to be living in the future. It's so," he paused,
trying to catch his emotions. "Awesome." He looked at me
as if to discern any disbelief. He saw none, and so continued.
"This new drink, this Ococ you made me, is yet another new thing
that never existed for me before. It's something new, the future
again, brought to me now."
He
smiled again and leaned forward. "Isn't that the coolest
thing?"
I
didn't know how quite to make that, but I nodded. Maybe he had been
drinking a little before he got here. Maybe not. I had seen
stranger things that had less merit. The bar was still good, so I
asked him, "So, let me see if I understand this future thing.
You are saying that today is the future somehow. The future for
someone in the past I guess?" I tilted my head in a habit I had
learned from the parrot.
"Another
Ococ, and I'll explain. Please."
Picking
up his Tiki mug, I mixed him up, backwards of course, another
signature Ococ, and slid it slowly toward him.
He
watched it move across the monkeypod wood like a teenage boy watches
his first hula dancer, reaching out to touch it, hesitantly,
expectedly.
