In case you haven't noticed all the advertisements, The Honolulu Advertiser is overhauling it's website. Yup, the big "C" word. No, not that one. But Change.

Everytime you hear that word it might as well be the "other" one because it always does one of two things - overcome odds and come out ahead, or slowly wither away.

Change is good. Change is bad. No matter what, there will always be two sides of change - those who agree with it and those who don't. You'll never satisfy everyone and you better believe that there will always be at least one person fighting it.

So when is change good? If you really think about it, change is for those who have a stake in it and/or want something out of it, otherwise what does it matter?

When change is bad, it's the same thing because those who don't want change are afraid that what they already have will be taken away or minimized in some way.

Then there are those who don't care either way. Why? Because they have no stake in it. That's why you're able to spot who has the most to gain or lose by how loud they bark and if they bite, the change must have been major.

Wassap Wit Dat?

Change can also be masked with words like "improved" or "redesigned" since just hearing the "C" brings about the tunnel-vision in even the most level headed person.

It's all around us whether we expect it or not, so it begs me to ask, are you one of those who question change or just go with the flow?

The site takes awhile to get used to Take a look at our new website (launches at 2pm today - countdown above 'breaking news') showcasing a "redesigned" and "improved" layout. The site is interactive where anyone can start up a blog (as you will find out soon enough by what I'm assuming will be choke people, then you guys no need me any more), post pics & vids, and comment on every single story.

The site will take awhile to get used to but it is easy on the eyes and sports a modern look. And in case you're wondering where all the bloggers are (took me awhile to find it myself), look at the top of the page, 'hover' over "Opinion", 'hover' over to "Featured Blogs" and click.

Hope you enjoy it!

Ahhh, the spoils of being a student. Off for two weeks (we used to only have one - unfair yeah?) and nothing to do but anything. Beach, malls, cruising, as long as it's out of the house, it was worth it - especially since there wasn't any homework or cramming for an exam, but we all know even if there were you'd be doing it on the last Sunday before going back anyways.

As "working" adults, we got some spoils too - clear freeways. Rewind that. I guess we only got one spoil...but it's a damn good one! Can you believe I rode into work today going 55mph (+15, I'll plead the 5th otherwise) and people were actually going faster than me?!

Wassap Wit Dat?

For the first time ever, I hit a good cruising speed and I'm the turtle! It got me thinking. Do we really have that much students driving contributing to traffic? I don't know how the rest of you think but when I hear "school holiday" or "waiver day" the first thing that pops into my mind is, "ahhh, easy(ier) traffic".

btw, if I had "waiver days" back when I was in school, I wouldn't have "called in sick" so much. ;p (...pleading the 5th in front of the jury)

When I think spring break, I also think Florida (damn MTV). Ever since high school, my friends and I have always "talked" about going there hoping to be part of "Girls Gone Wild", uh, I meant DisneyWorld (Braddahs, no bu'lai. You know you dreamt it too...da GGW part). I guess we've never had the cajones to fulfill that dream and now it never will since I'm ball and chained and my friends all have girlfriends.

So let me ask this, has anyone done anything lolo during spring break - here locally or abroad? Does labeling it "spring break" make you a little more risque? Something regretful...now? You hear the taunts from all your friends, "c'mon, it's Spring Break!" Now you look back and say, "ahhh, to be young again."

Is that why no one is reading and posting?

Anyone want to plead the 5th?

Memories are created everyday in a blink of an eye. Some last, some don't but being able to see what goes on in each other's lives without delay has become so mainstream that I wonder if memories are even needed. Camera phones are always ready and everyone has some sort of recordable device: camcorder, digital camera, Blackberry etc.

I remember in da hana-bata days taking pictures with a bulky (compared to now) 35mm camera and those with zoom were the "lucky" ones. Camcorders sat on your shoulder recording on VHS tapes and "mini or slim" anything wasn't even a concept.

I guess that's why it's amazes me how much our elders have in what seems like a 100TB (terabyte - dat's choke memory btw) brain storage. Their stories leave you to imagine what it was like as they retell - and relive - the moment so vividly. Recently at an, ahem, "coaches meeting", I only just realized that there was almost three generations of coaches sharing our mo'olelo (stories) and mana'o (knowledge).

No Blackberry's were busted out downloading video or pics from a website to show, just memories being retold as if we were in a 'Lost' flashback (those who watch the series know what I'm talking about, those who don't - auwe. Gotta support local ventures).

Nowadays, all the media we have access to is not for memory making - it's for publicity and who got the most recent "craziest" video. Pictures no longer are sent to Longs to get developed, we just Photoshop the jpeg and email it in a matter of a few keystrokes.

While I'm not dissing technology - I'm actually a tech hoard myself - but not everything needs to be broadcasted on myspace or youtube. Our keiki's imagination and memories are being substituted for memory cards and hard drives.

Wassap Wit Dat?

I bet you uku-bucks that every single one of you reading this blog has said, at least once, "oh yeah, I get that vid/pic at home. I'll email it to you" instead of taking the time to share and relive that exact moment in time, not needing to look at that vid/pic to remember - although it is needed sometimes to stir up some.

I'll admit that technology is making it easier to keep memories but then what do we keep for ourselves? Will the lost art of sharing mo'olelo fade away? Will we lose another precious "old school" moment?

Or should we just record how we used to wala'au and replay it back on DVD?

SHOUT OUT: A friend had found this video link on youtube out of the blue and boy was I shocked! I didn't even know someone recorded this yet alone "put it out there". Just some background, I was a member of a jazz ensemble that was world renown...ok, recognized nationally...ok, ok, we were popular locally. We were called the Killer Force TM and had t-shirts and everything! In fact I still got mine...even though it looks like a baby tee now. We were only a high school band and not to toot our horn, but we rocked! We traveled a lot and played choke gigs and the "old gang" was recruited back to perform a hana hou after two years removed from high school to celebrate the Killer Force's very last performance joining the old with the new. We played our trademark song called "Good News" and sorry the video is very very old (one of the few guys that had a camcorder) and the vid doesn't do the song justice - need to be there live fo' da vibe. The ending was the best part...hee hee Can you guess which one I am?

Since this is Feel Good Friday and Easter coming up, I thought I'd share this story with you. It is written by Rabbi Paysach Krohn and while he claims being told first hand by Shaya's father himself, there's nothing to disprove it either.

I read this every year as baseball practice goes into full swing as part motivation and to remind myself why I keep doing what I do.

Take the time to read the story through, take it in and get inspired.

Where is God's Perfection?

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional schools.

At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?"

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish, stilled by the piercing query.

"I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child."

He then told the following story about his son Shaya:

One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball.

Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?"

Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat.

Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came in and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together the held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the bat and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling,"Shaya, run to first. Run to first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home."

Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."

In the past few weeks for some odd reason I've ran into a few of my ex-girlfriends which I haven't seen in many, many years. I'm not sure for what cosmic reason we bumped into each other after all this time but it was really weird seeing them all over the place.

Assuming for most, when people break up it's usually not on good terms. People cheat, lie or do something really stupid for some reason to make one hate (dislike) the other.

Wassap Wit Dat?

Why they (cheaters & liars) do it, we'll never know but the common reason seems to be that 1) they can/thought they could get away with it or 2) the "love" just isn't there any more.

From all my ex's, I'm proud to say that I'm still friends with every single one of them (no need to disclose numbers here). I believe it's because we've established trust and friendship first but more importantly we've never disrespected each other. It just "didn't work out".

You've seen or experienced it before - fighting all the time, every little thing is beginning to irk you, instead of being happy and smiling you wish you were doing something else. Then the "get out of jail card" comes into play. Would I be happier by myself? I've always wanted to check out that guy/girl (whichever way you swing is cool ;p) Once those thoughts start floating and sticking in your mind, the end is near and you should be honest about it too.

Don't go thinking one night stands is a relationship either. My relationships ranged from a few months to years...and years and it helps to know what you want out of the relationship too. Fun? Someone to just be there? Long term? Serious for...gulp, marriage?

In any case, unless you've done something unforgivable, why can't "ex's" be friends? Haven't you shared your deepest feelings and counted on each other to be there? Or is it the intimacy factor? Been there, done that but now gotta keep the clothes on?

I guess if we're all civil, then psychiatrist, counselors and ice cream manufacturer's would all be out of a job.

SHOUT OUT: Sorry for the late posting but Happy 1st Birthday to Shiloh! And yes, the mother is an "ex", and no, the baby isn't mine.
The party was fun!