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My Story So Far...

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I joined the population of Earth on the windward side of the island of O'ahu, Hawaii, adding to a long line of Hawaiian ancestors descending from Pelekunu, on the isle of Moloka'i. I was adopted by a U.S. Marine couple who were stationed at the Marine Corps Base in Kaneohe. It was the era of Elvis and Blue Hawaii. The air was full of music and the sweet fragrance of tropical flowers. We moved to Southern California when the next stationing came up. I was young, extremely skeptical, and opposed to the move. In California, I became increasingly involved in many different bands traveling the entire length and breadth of the state. I also played tours around Oregon, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado through the years. Touring with bands and on my own was a particularly rewarding profession for me as it allowed me to indulge my passion for study, learning, traveling, mountain biking, backpacking, watersports, and just general adventuring. Heeding the advice of Belinda Carlisle of
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Aloha from Hispaniola!

Our Caribbean odyssey began quite unexpectedly completely out of the blue in June. Brian, an acquaintance from my days spent on the Trop Rock circuit contacted me with a proposal to manage and program an FM radio station in the north coast town of Sosúa on the Island of Hispañola in the Dominican Republic. Melinda and I had been planning to make a move to Arizona or San Marcos, Mexico where we intended to work on photojournalistic blogs, travelogues, and lifestyle articles. I also had musician friends in both places and figured I would occasionally join them for some gigs to supplement our income. We were leaning toward Arizona because I had loved living there in the past and we love the state. Then again - the call of the sea and tropics was very strong - and the thought of living abroad had an extra appeal as America had become an unrecognizable madhouse brimming with highly divided quarrelsome bickering people and blatantly open racial tensions that recalled the pre-Civil Rights
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Bylines from Bayou Country (As appears in the Jambalaya News)

As an outsider and a visitor to any given area at any given time, I am often on the lookout for areas of particular interest. As an avid outdoors enthusiast with a keen interest in local, regional wildlife, I tend to look for areas of natural beauty and those, in particular, offering ample opportunities for kayaking, hiking, biking, trails, and camping. One such place is Sam Houston Jones State Park, a little slice of bayou paradise, a mere 12 miles from downtown Lake Charles. We frequently enjoy the quick getaway afforded by Sam Houston State Park where an easy, leisurely stroll, bike ride, kayak outing, or camping trip awaits. The trails are numerous, well-groomed, lush, scenic, and adventurous. In addition to the Calcasieu River which winds prominently throughout the park, there are postcard-picturesquely beautiful bayous, replete with characteristically moss-strewn Cyprus and shore-lining reeds. The river, as well as lagoons, are filled with a variety of native fish, turtle
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Back to the Islands... (WIP)

Well, friends, it's been an eventful last few years. Staggering out of a 25-year-stretch spent in Norway like some punch-drunk tropical Viking, I careened crashing first - as all genuinely heroic shipwrecks of humanity have done since the dawn of the New World - into Key West. Set in the sleepy "little drinking town with a fishing problem" Mexican Gulf Coast haven Punta Gorda became my temporary base camp of sorts. Though I hadn't intended it to be such a brief residence, I plied the many, and various tiki bars of the area 'til the winds left my sails a mere year or so later. That sure didn't take long. As I mentioned earlier, many of my best friends from the area died off, and I somehow became masterful at the art of thoroughly pissing people off for no good reason -- all without effort or intention.  Great old friends and newly acquired ones died too quickly, unceremoniously, and from wholly avoidable causes. Beloved family members followed soon after. S
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