PopWars

There is a rumor going around (I started it) that the new pope chose his name in honor of Leo Messi. Of course there were thirteen other popes named Leo and five of them are saints including Leo the Great (#1) who convinced Attila the Hun not to sack Rome. We are hoping he chose to follow Leo XIII and continue his support for social justice. It was not lost on my cousin who texted us the day he was nominated that he choose the name of her uncle, my father, who gave up on the idea that the church could reform in his lifetime. Pope Leo XIV also graduated from Villanova, my father’s alma mater.

When we were in Miami earlier this spring, visiting our nephew and his wife, we had dinner at their restaurant and our nephew sat down with us for a few minutes. We had heard that Messi had eaten at his restaurant and I couldn’t wait to ask where it was that Messi sat. Our nephew nodded to the seat right to us.

Before El Classico on Sunday the announcers were talking about how they couldn’t imagine how Barca could carry on when Messi left and then along comes Lamine Yamal. I know Barcelona was knocked out of the Champions League by Inter but they beat the pants off of Real Madrid and they are a pure joy to watch. Not just Yamel, Pedri and de Jong in the center, Raphinha and Lewandowski (when he’s fit) up front and Cubarsi, Kundi and Balde in the rear. There is plenty of life after Messi. We have a new pope. Fascism may be raising its head but I am still optimistic.

I didn’t find this 14 year old link until we returned but I too was hoping to find some of the funky feel of the old Hawaii Five 0 show in Honolulu and I’m happy to report we found it. Even downtown Waikiki, which is mostly swallowed up with high rises, there are chickens roaming freely, a canal that seems to stop time in the middle of the city and the surf always just a stones throw away.

Unless I missed something the Kaimuki neighborhood seems like a great place to live. A citizens group is even trying save the Queen Theater. We had brunch in a restaurant near the Local General Store and walked around enough to get a feel for the place. It was raining in the mountains on the day we were there and depending on which way I faced the light was especially dramatic.

Was it Waiahole that means, “to nourish with food, to nourish with love.” I’ve already forgotten. In two and half years Matthew has absorbed enough of Hawaiian culture, the history, the customs, and even bits of the native tongue, to be the perfect guide. And without exception the locals were disarmingly warm and friendly. Aloha is real.

We walked through the Royal Hawaiian, now surrounded by high rises, and out to the ocean. We took a group photo in front of the Don Hoh statue. Peggi sang “Hookilah” for us, one of her mom’s favorite songs. For my birthday we had oysters and French fries in the Sky Bar at sunset. Well, Matthew had the oysters. Peggi and I were a little squeamish.

In the morning, after coffee at Duke’s Place, Peggi and I walked along the canal that cuts through Waikiki. We walked one way the the first day and the other the next, covering the length and seeing quite a bit of the beautiful city.

We drove along the coast to the windward side of the island where we played in the surf, probably got too much sun, ate avocado sandwiches and drank lime seltzer. The following day we drove over the mountains and through a tunnel to the other side. Here in an isolated cove we sat under a rainbow umbrella, ate ahi poke and pickled onions that we purchased from a nearby shop. I bought a truckers hat in pink and orange that reads “Lei’d.” Peggi was telling Matthew and Louise about the snorkling sunburn I got in Cartagena. I tried to call up the photo but discovered we were off grid. 

After dinner on our last night the four of us had a drink at the outdoor lounge in our hotel’s courtyard. The bartender recommended a local rum, something that tasted like scotch. We hatched a plan for the next visit. We’ll stay at Louise and Matthew’s place and they will stay at our place, the White Sands Hotel, a block away.

In our approach to HNL, the pilot, a proud native judging by his accent, pointed out “the tallest mountain in the world if measured from the ocean floor.” I was thinking that puts a new spin on how we measure things. It felt right flying United, the airline featured in nearly every episode of original Hawaii Five-0. Matthew and Louise picked us up at the airport and just minutes later we were looking at the steps of the former palace that Steve McGarrett charged down in the dynamic opening of that show.

In Honolulu it feels like we’re halfway in an Asian country, Asians and Asian culture everywhere, lots of exotic birds and flowers for iNaturist to figure out. We had dinner at a Japanese restaurant, ate seaweed and chatted the night away.

We went to the windward side of the island in the morning. Hang gliders floated above us as we and the surfers played in the turquoise water. I taught Louise “the dead man’s float. She wasn’t convincing though. Peggi was worried the lifeguard would be alarmed but it felt so good getting thrown around by the waves.

Back in the condo the four of us watched Barcelona beat Real Madrid 3-2 in the last minute of overtime in the Copa del Rey.

Psychedelia is in the air on the Mill Valley-Sausalito Pathway, our main line between Rich and Andrea’s place, our hotel room, Good Earth Natural Foods and Blithedale Avenue in the other direction. Black-necked stilts, snowy egrets, Pride of Madeira and wildflowers line the low lying waterways. And then under the 101 (above!)

I wore my Trout Mask Replica shirt to the exercise room this morning. I’ve found CNBC to be a good workout partner, equal parts interesting and annoying enough to move the routine along. Rich, Andrea, Peggi and I all bought t-shirts at Ameba. Rich’s Motörhead shirt looked so good on him and Andrea looked perfectly at home in Lou Reed’s Transformer motif. Peggi found a “Love Will Tear Us Apart” shirt that makes her look like she’s in the clouds.

Just putting my shirt on brought most of “When Big Joan Sets Up” to mind.

”I’ll sit up with you Big Joan
I’m too fat to go out in the daytime
I’ll stay up all night
If you promise not to talk about your hands bein’ too small”

Rich has a new band, a three piece, and the drummer left her kit at Rich’s so I had a chance to check it out. Made by Alexis, each piece is a black plastic disc wired to a module and a small amp. I couldn’t get much out of the hi-hat and ride but the crash sounded great and the drums sounded so melodic it was scary. It made me want to play like Sly Dunbar. Rich played a variety of instruments and with his e-sax we got into a snake-charm thing that I could see working as a subway act. That ambience when the car doors open and you hear music but you don’t know where it’s coming from.

It felt like the Waymo car saw the four of us standing there. No need to flag it down. There was no one behind the wheel when we unlocked the doors with our app. It was exhilarating watching it stop at red lights, turn ever so carefully, even slow appropriately for the speed bumps. And when the thrill wears off you are free to play with your iPad, stare out the window, even space out if you like. I am so ready for self driving cars.

Just yesterday we read that Pope Francis signed a decree recognizing Antoni Gaudí’s “heroic virtues,” putting him on the path to sainthood. Should two people pray to him and have their wishes granted he will be confirmed. Since I don’t believe in miracles (not even yesterday’s big one with the Easter bunny) Gaudi is already a saint in my book. Today we read Max Romeo’s and Pope Francis’s obituaries. First we listened to “Chase The Devil” from “War in a Babylon” and then we looked at the photos we took in Barcelona of Gaudi’s Catalan Modernisme masterpieces.

I gave up on religion a long time ago but I am still drawn to the rituals and I had a soft spot for the Latin American Jesuit, Pope Francis. We loved Wim Wenders Pope Francis movie, “A Man of His Word.” Francis never came clean on sexual abuse in the ranks but he pushed the world toward old school, progressive change. His defense of migrants was a cardinal principle. He called Trump’s bashing of immigrants a “shipwreck of civilization.”

It is fitting that the Pope’s last visitor was J.D. Vance, a recent convert to Catholicism. J.D. has a lot to learn. His interpretation of “Ordo Amoris” (order of love) misses the whole ball of wax. Using the medieval concept to defend deportations J.D. says “You love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then, after that, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.”

In response Francis sent a letter to US bishops that read, “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups. The true ordo amoris is open to all, without exception.” Francis for sainthood.