big waves, small human

We visited some quite serious surfing beaches with my half-brother in Hana (pictured above). He's only lived in Hana for the last several years, but has called Hawaii home for the better part of the past three decades. He skipped out on us at 15 (a day I remember well, although I was only 5), moved to Arizona for a brief spell, caught a flight to Hawaii & found himself sleeping on beaches in Honolulu soon enough. He worked his way up in kitchens in the big town, gaining the skills necessary to flaunt the sous-chef title (sous-chef, never chef or a chef-like salary, living sans credentials). Cooking, surfing, getting high & playing guitar is pretty much it for him, & has been since the early years. He's pushing 46, twice divorced, no kids & he lives a lifestyle not unlike something I might have sported with indifferent pride in my late teens or early twenties. For a middle-aged man to live in this way is almost humorous, bordering sometimes on tragic.

He is astonishing like our father, despite spending so little time in his company over the years. Something about losing out on love early on must have damaged them in the same places inside & in the same way (my father's mother died when he was 5, my brother's father left his mom when he was a toddler). Like my dad, he doesn't listen to anything anyone says ever. And I mean that. He is strikingly incurious about the lives of others. I don't believe he asked us at any time how we were doing, what our lives in Portland look like, or what we think about or care about. Rather, he blathered on & on about his own business & talked over anyone who tried to interject anything or respond or open something resembling a dialogue rather than the bland, nonstop monologue, which was clearly his preference. It was odd, but not unfamiliar to me & I expected something of the sort based on our phone conversations over the years.

I wish I had something more positive to report about my experience in his company. And I always wish the same about time spent with my dad. Unfortunately, this is almost all there is.