Long time ago in a past, distant, and magical land lived a little boy growing up in place called Kaimuki, a small district in Honolulu. Here he played and had good fun with all da uku piles of neighborhood keeds after WW II. Some people may have referred to dem as "baby-boomer keeds" but to dem manini buggahs, dey were all like one beeg family. Dey were all kine mix up nationalities. Chinese, Japanese, Portagee, Filipino, Haole, you name it, dey were all living in da neighborhood. Five to ten keeds in a family was real common in dem days. Everybody knew each oddah and everybody talked to one anoddah, not like today. 'Ass why hard. Nobody had secrets dey could keep for very long.
In his parent's yard, dey had mango trees to climb with tangerines, loquats, lichees, dragon eyes, papayas, lilikois, coconuts, guavas, avocados, and bananas to eat. Dat young boy would hang out wit his small keed friends and climb da tall Hayden mango trees. There dey found da ripest, juiciest fruits to peel with their teeth and suck da Seeds dry. Life was simple back den. No mo' problems or worries.
He was neither rich nor poor but in a way, quite resourceful. He would go look around to find empty soda water bottles fo' da two cents deposits. He would den wait for da neighborhood grocery truck to come by every day so dat he could buy candy or get da five cent Japanese bamboo kites to fly on windy days. Sometimes, he would save his money and go downtown to Tanoue's to eat saimin for 35 cents. Somehow, it tasted so ono back in dem days. Even today, it no taste da same like it was back den. Musta been mama san's secret recipe or sometin'. Many times he would get on his juckalucka bike to ride down to Ruger Market and tell Jimmy the owner dat he would like to have 10 cents worth of wet cherry seed. Jimmy would scoop out a generous portion out of da big glass jars on top of da counter and put it in a small brown paper bag and handed it to him. He would den put it in his pocket and savor it all day long. After a while, da small bag would get soaked with da juices and it would bust in his pocket getting lint all ovah da cherry seeds. 'Ass why hard, but he nevah care, it made um taste mo' bettah den. It added mo' body to da seeds. Aye yah!
The boy's faddah use to work at Pearl Harbor and bring home 16mm movies for da whole neighborhood to watch, all dis before TV was around. He used da white garage door as a movie screen and showed cartoons and post wartime newsreels for everyone to watch. Neighbors would bring boiled peanuts and soybeans to eat as snacks. Sometimes dey had slices of dried abalone, scallops, or shrimp to munch on while da movies was going on. Da menfolk would be sucking up da Primo or Lucky Lager beer in tin cans while da womenfolk would be talking story or preparing snacks for da small keiki.
Back in dem old days before TV, he would go wit his parents downtown to da old Sears Roebuck Store on Beretania Street and look at all da stuffs dey had in da large glass store display windows. Sometimes dey would have huge mechanical displays of toys or a choo choo train going round and round. At Christmas time, dey would all go down to watch da play put on by Phyllis Shields on top of da old pink building which later became da Honolulu Police Station. One oddah thing dat dey did as a family too was to ride up Waialae Avenue and King Street to gaze at all da glittering street decorations and lights put up by da merchants every year. Den to top it all off fo' da keeds, dey could sit on Santa's lap and tell him what dey wanted for Christmas. Somehow, da little boy managed to get Tinker Toys every year, even though he always asked for a pony dat he nevah got. He maybe thot Santa had a major hearing problem or was deaf even! Da fat buggah must have bin too old or something because he nevah listened.
But nevahdaless, 'ass what wen happen long time ago for not only dat little boy, but for a lot of oddah good small keeds now all grown up wit keeds of their own to tell stories to. So wit dat, as Roy Rogers and Dale Evans use to say every time when dem guys show was all pau, "Happy trails to you, until we meet again". Aloha, moi moi time. No let da mosquitoes bite. Auwe!
About Author
Clinton Lee was born and raised in Kaimuki, Oahu. He graduated from St. Louis High School in 1965 and attended Chaminade College until moving to Gardena, California in 1967. He now resides in Torrance, California with his wife, two "outgrown" children, and Chow Chow dog, Sammy. He currently works at Boeing Space and Communications in Seal Beach, California as a member of the Business Management Staff. He is STILL waiting for his pony from Santa Claus!
