Well folks, been a couple weeks since the last update, but things are all systems go at Übermick base camp. We had a quick trip north to Kelowna, Canada for the wedding of Tracee’s best friend, Amanda. Fun, small wedding – they were lucky! But the following Wednesday, we hopped on a plane and headed for Hawai’i, and the first holiday we’ve actually taken together, that didn’t involve visiting folks and going to a wedding. It’s sort of hard condensing what we did for a week into a blog post, especially when I tend to bore folks to tears even when I keep it short.

But to sum up, we stayed at a wee bed and breakfast in Puako, that was fantastic. Our host, Punahele, was flamboyant and faaaahbulous, as well as gracious, welcoming, warm, and kind. If you’re headed to Hawai’i, I couldn’t recommend his house any higher. After a relaxing evening on the beach with some maitais, my wifey sprung from bed the following morning, armed with her trusty guidebook, and began her itinerary and planning. Day one was spent hightailing it around – hiking at Pololu Valley, walking around Laupahoehoe, heading to Akaka Falls, checking out Hilo, and heading south to check out the lava flows at Puna (the Volcanoes National Park was evacuated and closed for three of the days we were there, due to horrendous vog.). And Christ, that was just the first day!

From then on, I managed to convince her to put the guidebook down and @#$# relax, so we headed a mile or so from our B&B to the idyllic Waialea Beach – aka Beach 69. Hands down, the most amazing beach I’ve ever visited. Despite the voggy conditions, we still managed to get burned to a crisp, which (somewhat thankfully) put the brakes on a certain someone’s need to cram as much in as possible. The rest of the trip was spent in far more relaxed conditions, driving around, visiting great restaurants, snorkelling with the turtles, and the highlight of the trip for me, visiting the summit of Mauna Kea – where we got a tour of some of the observatories, watched the sunset over the @#$@ vog, and I got to see the rings of Saturn through a 24″ telescope. Ah hell, just clicky on some piccies…

Beautiful scenery, amazing food (lots of fresh seafood… and loco moco!) but the highlight were the people we met. Everyone we met during our visit was great to us – probably because we weren’t behaving like a lot of the jackass American and Asian tourists we saw – and none more so than Isaiah Ka’aihue. On our last night, while waiting for a table at Duke’s in the Outrigger Waikiki, we strolled into a gift shop, and were blown away by this man. He embodied the Hawai’ian spirit, was passionate about his people, his language, and his culture, and gifted us a great (and eye opening) book on the history of the native race in the Islands, called “And Then There Were None”. He even taught us a few words of Hawai’ian, and invited us back to visit him and his family in Hilo on our next trip out.

And based on the fun we had this time, that trip can’t come soon enough.

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Now playing: Israel Kamakawiwo’ole – Hawai’i ‘78
via FoxyTunes

Benjamin Franklin once said “In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes.” Well, here we are on April 15, and as millions of people here in America are clamoring at the Post Office trying to get their returns in on time, instead I’m focused on the other, far more solemn side of life’s certainties.

On April 15, 1989, my beloved Liverpool Football Club were playing Nottingham Forest in the FA Cup semi final at Hillsborough – Sheffield Wednesday’s home ground. Due to police mismanagement, many fans were allowed into the ground without a ticket, resulting in 96 Liverpool fans being crushed to death.

What happened following this tragedy, I’ll leave to Wikipedia to explain:

On the Wednesday following the disaster, Kelvin MacKenzie, then editor of The Sun, a British tabloid newspaper owned by Rupert Murdoch Andrew-Neil-on-Murdoch , used the front page headline ‘THE TRUTH’, with three sub-headlines: ‘Some fans picked pockets of victims’; ‘Some fans urinated on the brave cops’; ‘Some fans beat up PC giving kiss of life’.

The story accompanying these headlines claimed that ‘drunken Liverpool fans viciously attacked rescue workers as they tried to revive victims’ and ‘police officers, firemen and ambulance crew were punched, kicked and urinated upon’. A quote, attributed to an unnamed policeman, claimed that a dead girl had been abused and that Liverpool fans ‘were openly urinating on us and the bodies of the dead’.

MacKenzie explained his reporting in 1993. Talking to a House of Commons National Heritage Select Committee he said “I regret Hillsborough. It was a fundamental mistake. The mistake was I believed what an MP said. It was a Tory MP. If he had not said it and the chief superintendent (David Duckenfield) had not agreed with it, we would not have gone with it.” This explanation was not accepted by families of Hillsborough victims. Even fifteen years after the Hillsborough disaster, the circulation of The Sun in Liverpool is still believed to be only 12,000 copies a day where previously it was around 200,000.

On 30 November 2006, speaking to a business lunch, former Sun editor Kelvin McKenzie repudiated the apology, saying that he only apologised because the newspaper’s owner Rupert Murdoch ordered him to. He said “I was not sorry then and I’m not sorry now” for the paper’s coverage.

On this day, April 15 2008, my heart is with the families of the 96, and I salute everyone involved with the Hillsborough Justice Campaign, and those who continue to boycott that filthy rag.

Phew. Not a lot of posting going on these days – work’s been mad busy with the Conference stuff kicking in big time, and with the impending vacation in Hawaii and move upcoming, I’ve been trying to get as much done as possible, so I don’t spend summer in the weeds. But enough was enough, we were pooped, knackered, and tired, so we took a much needed weekend to cavort and relax.

Friday we headed into town to meet up with Jerett and Anna to catch our first Giants game of the season. The weather was flawless, the sort you don’t often see in the City this time of year – upper 70s, and not a cloud in the sky. I’d been craving steak frites for the past three weeks, and was eagerly anticipating an early trip into town to grab some at the 21st Amendment. Alas, a combination of my wife’s penchant for taking her sweet @#@# time when it’s not something that motivates her, SF public transportation (screwing the chance beforehand), and Jerett’s insistence we stay until the end of the game (screwing the chance afterwards!) shot me down. But, it was a ballgame, and that means…

Garlic Fries!!!

This was the downside of the weekend – my disgust with ballpark prices. Two orders of these, and two beers (slightly warm Gordon Biersch, in a 10oz plastic cup) for… $28!! Jesus H Christ on a bike!!

Oh, and the Giants got hammered…

Saturday tho, after a farewell breakfast with J&A, we hopped in the car to head south to Santa Cruz, to spend the day with Mike. Some time snoozing on the beach, some great beers at Red and 99 Bottles of Beer downtown was just what the doctor ordered, as we just sat back and relaxed. Next morning, after refuelling on some tasty Hawaiian grub at Aloha (Phenominal kalua pig and cabbage!) and another nap, we decided to stroll down the beaches to Capitola. An hour later, with shorts dripping (the tide came in a weeee bit quicker than we expected) we were lounging on the patio at Margaritaville sipping margaritas and munching on chips and salsa (while also laughing heartily at the assembled Coors slurping beach hos and bros).

But, all good things must come to an end. Now it’s Monday, and I’m back working. Speaking of which…

Jesus Christ, my heart! Liverpool stuffed Arsenal in the Champions League quarter final at Anfield, setting up a semi final clash with Chelski. Again. Lord help me I’m in bits. Take it away, John Aldridge…

I defy anyone my age (early/mid 30s) to watch this, and not find themselves grinning in happy nostalgia within a few minutes!

Ahh, the good old days!!