Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Dark to Dark

Shorter Winter days make for starting the day in the dark and ending it in the dark. that's true even here in Hawaii and if its pelting rain at the same time, it ain't fun. Had a bunch of that lately but you, My Lovely Tourists (MLT's) just keep on coming and because you(they) do I"ll keep on pitching my tents. I've been branding myself as a storyteller under the name "Papanui the Storyteller." I currently have two hardbound Children's books that continue to sell very well and the third is about ready.
It takes money to put a book together and get it distributed so I've joined the new Social Network known as People String. Its like Facebook on steroids. I think you could be interested in joining it too. Here's a link:

Enjoy and Happy New Year Everyone

Papanui the Storyteller

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Hi Folks,

I've decided on my new book which will be geared more to adults in that it is photographic in content. Each page when turned reveals a new view of this very wise tree. The facing pages contain a verse of poetic text (an ode) about the picture being viewed. I've been testing "my lovely tourists" and the response has been tremendous with pending order requests already.
This book will be published under my own company this time. Should be ready in time for Christmas. There will be approximately 36 photographs and 36 pages of poetic text. You'll really love it. I promise.

Lots of Aloha!
Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Saturday, August 7, 2010

Just a great day. Total of 11 sales to all "My Lovely Tourists." Very grateful.

Papanui's overdue update

I know how badly overdue I am. All kinds of things have happened. Wailoa and Kukui sales have now exceeded 900 units so that's a fantastic 130 units per month, 90% of which came through the Papanui the Storyteller site location of NorthShore, Oahu, Hawaii. We're slower starting with Giovanni and Scampi the Shrimp but we are over 100 units in two months. Awesome.
The Shrimp stand is now a brand new pavillion and still pulling like crazy. Thank you all "My Lovely Tourists" (MLT's). I'm now a double wide tent display with an under the sea scene for my backdrop. Christmas is not too far away and as of today I can take credit cards on site and you can paypal through my website as well at

"Lots of Aloha!"

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Aaron T Watene
The Book: Giovanni & Scampi the shrimp
Well, its on its way. If the economy will allow 'My Lovely Tourists' to get here, its going to be a great Summer. Thanks everyone Papanui the Storyteller

Aaron T Watene
Giovanni & Scampi at the printer
See, I told you we were at print. We are hoping that this book will do as well as "Wailoa & Kukui." I guess I'll still be counting on my LT's to keep pulling us through. A word about where I'm located. A rather nondescript place, but that of course is it's charm...
Yesterday at 7:11am · Comment · LikeUnlike · Share

Amos Watene
A few short pics of My Lovely Tourists and the Island I love.. There are also a few shots of My son Ammon's Place in Pupukea called Kava-Roots cafe. Come see me at or become my freind on
April 13 at 7:48am · · · Share · See Wall-to-Wall

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Today I was more than tired, I was fried. 'Lani sent me home. I slept soundly until she called to say that a couple of LT's(Lovely Tourists) were not leaving until I came and personally endorsed a book for them. They were happy with the autographed copy and a picture we took together. They are LT's, Adam and Akemi from Colombus, Ohio. The book is for their unborn baby. They look lovely.

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene

A Lesson In Honesty From "My Lovely Tourists"

Sometimes I do get "My Lovely Tourists" pictures. This is Scott & Karen Klassen with their sons. On Saturday April 10,2010 they stopped by and purchased two of the Wailoa & Kukui books. We chatted awhile, took this photo and then we bid them goodbye.
In less than 20 min. Karen reappeared and apologized for not paying for the books. 'Lani & I were quite chagrined in that we had not realized it ourselves.
They are from Calgary-Alberta, Canada. They are good honest people. They have our utmost gratitude, not so much for the money but for lesson they left us. I want to be like them.
Thank you Klassen Family, You are My Lovely Tourists.

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Monday, April 12, 2010

Some mornings I'm just too tired to set the tent up one more time. This was one of those mornings. Actually I started out with a whole lot of vim and vigor, but after driving four iron stakes deep enough and pushing the legs of the tent up, I was already out of gas. It didn't used to be like that...What happened? (You don't have to answer that)
My second story is at the printers and is expected to be here sometime in May. It is entitled Giovanni & Scampi the Shrimp. I have used the same illustrator for this story as well.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The wind howled something awful but could not stop 'my lovely tourists'. Toupees flying and a really bad hair day made no difference. They bought 9 more books today. I love them all. Today they came from Whistler-BC, Saratoga Springs-NY, Saskatoon-Saskatchewan-Canada, Dallas-TX and Calgary-Canada. Some bought more than one book. I am truly grateful

Thursday, February 25, 2010

My 'lovely tourists' are still pulling the plow. They are still buying which means they are funding the next book, which Jim has almost completed. You're gonna' love it. OK I'll let the cat out of the bag, its entitled-Giovanni & Scampi the Shrimp and don't you worry folks Scampi does not get eaten but in fact lives happily ever after.
Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Took the day off yesterday to do some other running around and visit H&R Block in the evening and man! you don't 'wanna' know. You don't even 'wanna' know! I'm completely traumatized. OK, well it 'aint' that bad I suppose but heck its bad enough. Actually I'm quite relieved-get this act cleaned up then there'll be no stoppin' this train. Sold 5 more today. the book is 'sailin.'

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

New high in daily sales

I was planning on not going to work today because my taxes are not yet done but I went anyway and the day turned magic with a total of 23 book sales for a new one day record. Thank you Lord.
Met a whole lot of amazing people from all over the country today

Papanui the Storyteller

Status Update

Hi World, Things have gone rather well considering the slow time of year. It has now been thirty days and we have sold more than 200 books. All we need now is "love sweet love!"

Monday, January 18, 2010


My wife, Leilani and I gathered Kukui nuts from along the shoreline. They had arrived when mountain rains carried them out to the ocean. The tidal waters would eventually deposit them, often in piles, amidst the seaside debris.

What brought them hither? My answer to that question gave rise to the story that I very much hope you will enjoy:Wailoa and Kukui.

It has been a long journey to get here. I have taken some byways and detours which have lead to nowhere but each sidetrack has had something important to teach me.

One day I was urged to ask a friend if he knew someone who might re-illustrate a story for me. He did know someone. That person had a nephew and the rest is history as they say. Jim Atherton and I have never met physically but we Skype like old friends. His renditions are accurate and faithfully convey the folklore essence of Mana. Together we have chased down printing and freighting costs-mostly Jim and we have been frustrated by delivery delays. Finally, today, I just yanked all my gear and seats out of my van and went to get our books from the docks myself. They look and feel fantastic.

Jim’s depictions have provided the power needed for the messages in this story. This is just the beginning.

Papanui the Storyteller

Aaron T Watene

To view Jims Portfolio and Publishing Blog visit



Wow its almost 3
and look what i've done with papa nui
the blog is caught up the website is too
and all this i do because pops
ilove you.
Not only that but we're on to something here,
I know with some effort we'll create quite a bit of cheer.
Stability maybe but more than that
a way to connect when your far from our flat.
We love you and miss you and nana so much
but we'll see you soon for hugs and such.
So now i sign off to join my slumbering wife
to head into dreamland and then back to real life.

the 4th son of papanui...

Woman stronger than Man


OK, OK, Hold your horses, I’m about to make my case. I see the proof every day but I‘ve had suspicions for years! It’s the ever present, inimitable woman’s handbag! “Say what?” It’s unbelievable I know. These days most of them are bigger than the woman who shoulders them and they weigh at least a couple of tons. Come on men, you don’t know because you wouldn’t be caught dead with one on your shoulder, if you know what I mean.

Well how on earth do they carry them? It can only mean that they have developed such enormous strength and power in the favored shoulder that they can bear up and actually walk straight without tilting or falling over.

Its absolutely incredible, they can peer into them and even reach into them without removing them from the shoulder. To watch it is fascinating, they simply raise both arms to a level, horizontal plane, which kinda’ reminds me of the gymnastical (no such word but highly descriptive) ‘iron cross.’ This feat is no less impressive. The bag just hangs there and she can fiddle-faddle in the thing, rummaging for hours and never drop from that horizontal. She does not flinch, not one iota!

Without meaning to be disrespectful of recent events, I find myself not nearly as concerned about the second amendment as I am about a woman’s handbag. It runs around under the guise of being an accessory but which in fact is much more lethal than an arsenal of guns. Its crushing impact as a weapon when wielded correctly, coupled with the element of surprise (for who would have suspected that such a benign looking accoutrement could harbor such destructive power), could literally knock a man’s head off.

I challenge any man to find anything as clever or as deceptive, in our man-world. None! Nada! We don’t have it and guess what?

We have not even ventured into the mysterious, fearful world of it’s contents, which is a whole ’nother discussion. And men, its no use trying to get anything out of them. A woman’s denial is absolute and speaks to the supremacy of their training in the art of “coy and misdirect” technique. Pity the fool who thinks he’s man enough to make the breakthrough. My wife owns one or two? I ALWAYS SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN.

The man who could not help

(A personal story as told to me by Taiana Wolfgramm/Brown)

This story occurred in 1998 when I was employed as an on-call nurses aide, in this instance, at the Saint Marks hospital located in Salt Lake City, Utah.

This occasion necessitated that I come to the hospital to take care of an elderly gentleman as he approached his last hours of mortality. This was not new to me, it was something I had been doing for quite some time.
When I arrived at his bedside, I could see that he had not been cleaned and washed yet, therefore I immediately set about attending to him. I sponge-bathed him without removing his undergarments. I changed and refreshed his bedding and saw to his overall comfort. There was a smile of appreciation.

At some point, while I was not watching, the gentleman had made to reach for something behind himself and in so doing found himself hanging out of the bed. I hurried to lift him back. I became aware of another man standing in the room but I thought nothing of it as I tried to lift the patient back onto his bed.

In my difficulty, I thought that the other man, who was obviously there to see the patient, might step to assist but he did not. To this day I do not know why I did not ask directly for his help, though I thought the situation obviously warranted. Instead I asked him to find another person to come and help me. The man returned and said that someone would be there in a minute. He declared himself to be the patients middle son and gave his name. I continued to struggle and eventually got the patient back into the bed on my own.

The very unhelpful man remained standing at the other end of the room. The patient eventually saw him and the recognition was one of pure surprise.

Eventually this kindly patient would pass away in my arms. When the family arrived they wanted to know who was there with him when he left. The staff then gave them my name and the name of the other man who had been there, describing everything as I had made it known to them. Upon receiving this information I was told that several members of the man’s family broke down and cried, including his spouse and daughter and others.

Sometime later a friend of mine would call and ask whether or not I had seen the kind remarks made of me in the local newspaper. This man’s family expressed their deep gratitude for what I had done for him. The article also revealed that the other man in the room was the middle son who had passed away several years earlier.

This was the man who would not help because he could not!

I have learned much from this experience.

All my love to my family and friends,


By Aaron T Watene
Papanui the storyteller
July 12, 2009
(With apologies for any errors in the story)

For Want of Sleep

A rooster crows in the dark of morn. My thoughts of him are dark as well. I can find something to throw at him or I can throw something over my head.
I know its too late, the chorus already begun. Perhaps I can still get those two winks still beckoning, but the wicked bird sees through my walls and shatters all that remains of nocturnal bliss.
I fumble for the switch and stub my toe, vocalizing my then unsavory thoughts.
Kahuku the Red, wanders by and calls in the noon hour and its all I can do to remember, twas not he.

(Kahuku the rooster is central to another story)

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
July 16, 2009

The Grass Is Greener

I strode with deliberate steps, I had to see what lay hence.
The grass supposedly greener on the other side of the fence

Could it be true? I had to go look and see.

The street was long and windy, gathering in the years
Lots of happy days I saw and often there were tears

Could it be true? Oer the land, beyond the sea?

Such a long, long day, retracing it before the setting sun
The grass of home so much greener, now that I am done

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
July 19, 2009

The magic of you

In the moment you said please, I was yours to command
Your thoughtfulness, a Magician’s wand in your hand
In the way you said thank you, you could do no wrong
You took my hand and smiled at me and all was a song
When you said, “I love you” the eternities rolled into view
Such a magnificent concept when the Gods created you.

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
July 23, 2009

Flavor Of Night

Whose lurking in the dark in MY Wal-Mart parking lot?
Three guys straight ahead, motionless, smoking pot

I guess their lips are movin’ and coverin’ a lot of stuff
I’m thinking three hours already and its still not enough

About six spaces off to my left a laptop is burning bright,
Sets me to wondering, what’s playing this time of night?

I see a black cat, furtive and slinking close to the ground,
Wonder where he’s headed, moving quietly, not a sound

The carts all marshaled, march unerringly t’ward the door
Consumed by the voracious appetite of the Wal-Mart store

Security checks his watch, another round’s ‘bout to begin
I’ll just lay low until he is past, he’ll not even see my chin

A car quietly slips alongside another, I note the early hour
A woman exits and staggers, definitely lost some power

Amazingly, she finds the right key and then there is light
The first remains quietly brooding until she’s out of sight

Pleasant slivers of the night time breeze wafting my brow
What jumped over the moon, the dog, the cat or the cow?

Oh, Oh! There’s someone wondering, what could I be
doing, lurking here in THEIR Wal-Mart parking lot?

Say What? (Maybe I should have called it “Delirium of the Night”)

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Chicken in the Rain

“Hey Little Chicken! Standing there in the rain,
You’ve got my attention, I’m feelin’ your pain.”

Its raining cats and dogs but little chicken’s in a
huddle in the middle of a puddle - ‘up the creek
Without a paddle’ ???

“Don’t just stand there!” I hollered at the chicken, as the rain fell all around. “Go on, get under that bush, hurry!” She stopped peeping and promptly moved under the leaves of the fern plant.

There are days like that, rain, lots of rain in every direction. Sometimes it’s a simple answer, someone calling;

“Come on, lets hover
dry under this cover.”

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene

The eyes have it

How are your eyebrows?

She tells me that mine are getting way too bushy and wild. Of course I have to run to the mirror to see and I can’t see what she’s talking about. Well, I guess I can see maybe three unruly strands, she wants to clip them but I’ll have none of that. She’ll leave a great gash in my face.

I try to focus on what I was doing before this rude interruption but its useless. I head for my cabinet on my side of the washbasin and with great concentration, courage and determination, “snip!” I just cut one of them and “wow, I’m a new man!” Who woulda’ thought that one little brow hair could have such an impact. “I’ am a new man!” And hey, I do a ‘Fonze’ in the mirror. I look absolutely amazing.

I am much braver now as my scissors poises over strand number two. I’m not sure which way to turn the scissors, inward, outward left or right? “Snip!” Holy smokes, there’s a rumbling in the ground, the energy released by that snip of my brow hair is truly earth shaking. Nothing can stop me now.

Actually, I’m too afraid to go after number three for fear of a collapse of the entire Universe but instead I’ll just moisten my finger and pat #3 down. Another look in the mirror and another ‘Fonze’ and Hey, I’m good to go!

She's been watching me and I don’t like that look in her eye.

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Mirror, Mirror on the wall who is the fairest, she or me?
Remember, I could hide you anyplace in the house
You’d never be found, no not even by a mouse
So be careful how you answer ok? Is it me or is it she?

So you called my bluff, you son of a gun.
She’d find you no matter what I’d done
In fact she’d never let you out of her sight.
What a despicable bias and it just aint right.
Just once, aren’t I the best you’ve ever seen?
So rude, just ‘cause I don’t primp and preen

You two have a thing going on and it is not fair.
Just because she plays all day with her hair,
This is why we never get anywhere(on time)
You know what? I give up! I really don’t care!

She’ll never be taller than me!!!!

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

The Foreverness of You

I like the way you smile
I swear, it glows in the dark

I like the way you walk
Strolling with me in the park

I like the way you talk
Innocent, ‘fresh off the boat’

I like the way you feel
In places oh so remote

I like the way you whisper
Unheard of things in my ear

Sending my senses soaring
Things both fuzzy and clear

Across the expanse of time
beyond Eternity’s last ray

Through eons of suns rising
YOU, in forever’s setting day

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene

The Sons of Aaron

Its an impossible thing,
to love one more than another.
Each so gifted,
Each so human,
Each so frail.
But men they are,
In a ‘brave new world.’
Faced with a zillion incredible choices.
Pray God in Heaven can pick them out
Amid the myriad of voices
And ‘Hold them in the Hollow of His hand.’

Aaron Aniheta
Ammon Tainui
Alma Tawhio
Amos Tutanekai (Mossi)

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

1st son

t’s Aaron’s b/day this eight of eight
‘Gotta’ get this in before its too late

Happy birthday son
Love you
Mom & Dad
It's only 9:10pm here lol

Furrows of time part 2

Its been a rough go
I’ve messed up some
Its got me wondering,
What of the days to come.

It was pretty hard
Working this man’s farm
I know it did me good
Certainly did me no harm

My oil’s all gone
And things are pretty sore
Just so’s you know
I’m not asking for more

I could have done better
My furrows all askew
There’s no way around it
Most of them’s a redo

I feel some misery
Alone in my thoughts
I coulda’ done more
With what I was taught
Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Furrows of time part 1

I’ve had a good run
I’ll not complain
Turned a furrow or two
In this man’s domain

A farming machine
Was my earthly lot
I liked the work I did
On my master’s plot

My nuts and bolts
All seized up now
But I’m quite content
How I pulled the plow

I plowed straight
And I plowed true
Not one furrow
I had to redo

I’m in a happy state
Whiling my time
I did good out there
Mid the dust and grime
Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

And still counting...

Not enough leaves in the Fall
Nor enough raindrops in Spring
Not enough Summer rays
Nor flakes do the Winters bring

I’ll never be able to count
The ways that I love you

Not enough sands in the desert
Nor stars in all the night sky
Not enough waves rolling to shore
Nor little birds learning to fly

I’ll never be able to count
The ways that I love you

But you wont mind if I try

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Aug.12, 2009

Strive On

I made a mistake again today
Dumb things I never meant to say

I’ll strive on anyway

Wicked thoughts assail my mind
Cause for behavior so unkind

But I’ll keep striving anyway

Irksome weaknesses make me fret
A whole host of reasons for regret

I keep striving anyway

Wrong turns oft clouded my view
I traveled in days dank and untrue

I’ll just keep on striving anyway

My faults, your patience thinly bear
Astonishing how you can still care

I will strive on anyway

And now as day is drawing down
I see a smile where once a frown

I’m striving, still striving anyway

At last I see the unheralded you
How you could love me as you do.

Simply, that you were striving too

Aaron T Watene
Papanui the storyteller


Whats a few Storms?

Weathered a few storms here and there
Became a real juggler extraordinaire
There’ve been hoops to jump through
There’s been a balancing act or two

You’ve worked hard to make ends meet
Bowing sometimes but never in defeat
Dusting off is just a matter of style
Yours is an incredible, invincible smile

Home slumbers on, as you rise anew
To do it again in the thronging milieu
Seeking strength, hold the line steady
Enduring well, faithful, always ready

A bending kiss upon the tousled brow
“See you soon my love, must go now”
Your shadow casting upon the walls
You tiptoe quietly through the halls

The routine of days, unerringly forge
Passing through life’s inevitable gorge
You feel the rhythmic wonder of it all
The Spring, Summer, Winter and Fall

Homeward bound with joy filled heart
Completes another day of familial art
At times sensing the invisible applause
Audiences high advocating your cause

Whisperings of well done in your head
That invincible smile lays down to bed

Invincibly Yours,
Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Aug 30, 2009

Joy in Exercise

Some things you can do when you’re exercising, when you’re older. Pay attention now because you’ll be there sooner than you think. Since I’m a man and I’m still sure that I am, obviously it’s the men I’m talking to: (But hey, women can run too can't they?)

1 - Its smart to have a plentiful supply of “Just for Men” hair coloring which you can easily get at a reasonable price from Wal-Mart. (‘Lani made me do it. She said that she didn’t want to live with an old man) An application of this item gives the illusion that you are much younger than you really are and illusions are very important the older you get.

2 - Run with your head down because you’re going to be watching your feet as you run. This will give the illusion that you’re running quite fast. The ground beneath your feet appears to pass very rapidly. This has the affect of making you believe that you are much younger or that you are in wonderful condition to be moving so fast.
The other benefit of running like this is that the distance you’ve chosen to run is not so far. When you run with your head up and you’re huffing and puffing, the distance yet to go feels like a long, long way. So keep your head down.
Of course you do have to look up occasionally. I’ve actually run into parked cars and other people.

3 - You need something to occupy your mind when you run. This helps to distract from the run itself. There are all kinds of things to think about when you’re running. I have combined memory exercise with my physical exercise: Susan Black has written on how to memorize the chapter headings of books. I have memorized entire chapter headings by doing this. As soon as I take the first step, my mind automatically begins to work through the memorization and then my run is over that quick.

4 - One last thing has to do with my insecurities. I run early enough that it is still dark. Who wants to see yucky, gangly, disheveled me running around. Actually, I find it much more exhilarating and peaceful in the wee hours of the morning. Oh, and don't forget to watch out for parked cars.


Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 2, 2009

A Rear Ender

For some the way is long, dreary, bleak
Just hoping to get through another week

Things wearing a path across my mind
Enough of life kicking me in the behind!

Too many errs, too many heartbreaks
Can’t see how to fix all those mistakes

Went about doing things just as I please
Stuff too embarrassing for bended knees

Been a pack of trouble with a capital “T”
Wonder if anybody can ever forgive me?

Maybe someone seeing me in my plight
Can show me just how to put things right

Oh I know I’ve got to kneel and confess
“Help me Lord to make right this mess”

I continue anxious about making amends
Probably have to let go some old friends

I’ll take my lumps, ride out the derision
Looks askance won’t alter my decision

We both know I’ve taken a good lickin’
But I'm still on the books, not yet stricken

So I hope you know I’m comin’ on strong
Nudge me please, tell me when I'm wrong

I’m following a plan by a friend of mine
He’s yours too and He says we’ll do fine

Some adjustments just gonna’ be tough
I think I can handle it, I’ve seen enough

So if your story is anything like mine
Just hunker down, put it all on the line

There’s loads of help both up and down
You’ll emerge some day under a crown

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept. 04, 2009
“You can do it”

One day in august 2009

The rains came today appearing to want to play
But they got a little rough before they went away

They blew and howled the corners off my tent
And left me a little drenched before they went

I’ve learned to read the signs and anticipate
Before they get close and open the floodgate

Gone now, there’s laughing in the visitors row
The rains full spent, breezes more gently blow

It’s a pleasant afternoon along the North Shore
It’s a fun place to come wine, dine and explore

Hope to see you someday soon with any luck
At the world famous Giovanni Shrimp Truck

In Kahuku Hawaii where they also make NFL
Football players


Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Aug 25, 2009

How tall are you?

If someone said I love you

How tall would you be
How old
How smart
How wise
How generous
How forgiving
How kind
How cool
How talented
How thoughtful
How considerate
How appreciative

How hungry for more would you be

Why not tell someone you love them

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept. 04, 2009

Somebody Ruffled my Feathers

Somebody stood on my toes today Lord
Please give me the heart to love them
Somebody said a not so nice thing about me Lord
Please give me a big heart to love them
Somebody put me down Lord
Somebody bent my nose
Somebody snubbed me Lord
Ruffled my feathers
Burned my hide
Chapped me real bad Lord
Stung me real good too Lord
Wah, wah, wah, wah
Please give me the heart big enough to get over myself Lord
To love all those around me for all they are worth
Then I’ll know what I’m worth
And thanks a lot for listening Lord

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 19, 2009

Love Only You (A song)

There must be flowers but I can’t see them
I see only you
There must be birds but I can’t hear them
I hear only you

There must be stars but I can’t see them
I see only you
There must be songs but I can’t hear them
I hear only you

The rain is falling so they say
The sun is rising on my day

There must be dreams but I don’t want them
I want only you
Love only you
Love only you

There must be flowers but I can’t see them
I see only you
There must be birds but I can’t hear them
I hear only you

The grass is calling come and play
The sun is setting on its way

There must be rainbows but I don’t want them
I want only you
Love only you
Love only you

There must be sunsets but I can’t see them
I see only you
There must be storms but I can’t hear them
I hear only you

The waves are surging in the bay
The clouds are turning things to grey

There must be wishes but I don’t want them
I want only you
Love only you
Love only you……..Love only you

By Aaron T Watene
Papanui the storyteller
A love song written Sept 8, 2009

Whats in a moment?

The stranger approached, “I’ll take one of your ‘wet wipe’ paks,” he said, as he handed me a $5 bill.

I thought I had the necessary change but the $4 was nowhere to be found.

I then said to the man, “Look, I don’t have enough change but I can see your need, here, take it and let’s not worry about it.”

His response was immediate, spontaneous and pure. “No, no,” he said. “You keep the change, I can see that you work hard to earn a dollar, please keep it.”

My protests fell on deaf ears.

I have since reflected. I could have given him more of the item or something else to compensate but the moment transcended all such trivialities.

We had a moment, that stranger and me.
(When saw we thee........?)

Now I pray for moments.

Papanui the story teller
Aaron T Watene
Sept. 20, 2009

How normal are you?

It started out to be a great day
There’s no reason it shouldn’t end that way……or is there?

I’m easily irritated by those sanctimonious do-gooders who obey every posted speed limit, especially when there’s miles of empty highway in front of you. I want to pass him so badly but then I don’t. I keep muttering something about “Oh well, if I stay behind him I wont be breaking the law either.” That thought flutters hopelessly, as within the next mile, I go flying past him. That guy is not normal, ninety percent of us do not drive like that, at least the 90% around my neighborhood don’t, do they?

I’m off to pick up my sweetie, after her long night of Wal-Mart. We can’t help it, we smile a lot when we see each other. She’s going to keep me company while I pick up supplies town-side.
The city still gets me all mixed up. I drive up to this corner, watching the traffic, while I’m still rolling and that’s what it is, my variation of the rolling California stop and go around the corner.

The officer asks if I noticed the red light because he claims that I drove right through it:

“I swear that I did not see any red light, where was it!? Can’t you just give me a warning?”

“And did you know that your brake lights are not working either and oh by the way, you’re driving with an expired inspection tag.”

This guy is good, he smiles extraordinarily big the whole time. All of his teeth are white but one of them is kinda’ crooked. He’s still smiling when he asks for my signature. What can you do with a cop like that? I’m mad at myself for smiling back at him. I wanted to scowl but both ‘Lani and I are smiling and telling him to have a nice day. Guys like that are not normal.

We do the “wah, wah, wah” thing for about the next ten miles, berating all law enforcement in general and about how stupid and ridiculous some rules are. “Did you see the red light? I did not see any red light. That guy knew we were from the country and took advantage of us.”

“$97! Where are we going to get that from?”

Its hunger that brings conversational change and helps us to calm down. We decide on a ‘Big Philly’ at Subway’s back in Laie. Everything is fine until ‘Lani decides that she wants a fountain refill. She has been sitting crossed legged and is now unable to uncross them because she has gotten her shoe laces caught in her ankle bracelet. She is embarrassed! She wants me to share the embarrassment. I tell her no, I don’t want to help. Its beneath me and very unbecoming, but two more wah, wah’s and I’m on the floor.
Its amazing how intertwined her laces and anklet are. I would like to see in slow-motion just how it got like that. Now with my dignity all shot to heck, I’m sure I must be bleeding somewhere. With my head still down, I slide back into my seat and wait for the whole world to stop looking at us/me. When I raise my head, it’s the same, there’s still only me and her.

She smiles and says, “Thank you honey.”

Sometimes she’s just not normal!

Papanui the story teller
Aaron T Watene
Sept. 24, 2009

A moment

The following is taken from a small local newspaper. A little while back I wrote something entitled “What’s In A Moment?” This story is related:

Come with me to a third grade classroom……..
There is a nine year old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants is wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. Its never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they’ll never speak to him again as long as he lives.
The boy believes his heart is going to stop, he puts his head down and prays this prayer, “Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I’m dead meat.”
He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.
As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy’s lap.
The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, “Thank you Lord! Thank you Lord!”
Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful but as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie
She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. “You’ve done enough, you Klutz!”
Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Susie whispers back, “I wet my pants once too.”
May God help us see the opportunities(moments) that are all around us to do good..
Each and everyone of us is going through tough times right now, but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that only He can. Keep the faith.

Author Uknown
Sept 26, 2009


I'd like your definition please: What is a budget? Ah aah, no looking in the dictionary, on or off line, just your quick simple thought please. Why you like or don't like them?

Thanks a ton

North Shore Extreme

You say you’ve crossed the Sahara and endured the Gobi desert as well, but are you man enough to handle the heat of the North Shore, Oahu, Hawaii?

You say you’ve withstood mighty hurricanes and been in a couple of tornados. Yeah, but are you man enough to handle the Trade winds that race across the North Shore?

You’ve swam the Bering Sea but I seriously doubt you can handle the waves off the North shore.

You may have climbed Everest and crossed the Swiss Alps but the Ko’olauloa Range of the North Shore will bring you to your knees.

Crossed the Arctic?…pshaw man! Try living through a North Shore winter. Sometimes you have to slip into a T-shirt to brace against the frigid 65 degrees.

I don’t know, but if you think you’re man enough, bring it on dude. We’re ready to slam you with North Shore Extreme.

And then on top of that, there’s the Giovanni Shrimp truck in Kahuku, North Shore side. I’m telling you now, you’re not man enough for the hot plate. This order comes with a no refund but hey, don’t waste your money, you ain’t man enough!!!

Ante up, I’m bettin’ you cain’t.


Papanui the story teller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 26, 2009

Are you Noisey

That which shatters the silence we call noise
That which enhances the silence we call music.

What might you contemplate when you see these lines carried as they are, on the canvass of someone’s body? My mind raced all over the place:
He obviously thought it of considerable import, perhaps it was the cadence in the rhyme, perhaps he felt more; Noise might signify a state of chaos, music would suggest an orderly state. My mind then reflected upon what God said, that ‘His house was a house of order.’ I should not have said that, now I have to clean up the house and bring it back to order before ‘Lani gets home, come to think of it, it does feel like music when things are in order.
I wondered, do I shatter the silence when I speak or do I enhance it? Sometimes utter nonsense flows, then there are sweet moments of peaceful tones that soar. I’m still striving.
He carries it always by his side, the verse will impact his entire life. His judgments of others will be tempered by it. Judgment of himself will be measured against it. Others(me) will be influenced by it, I took a picture!
I’m thankful that he came by.

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 26, 2009

I saw Grace today

The lady appeared to be in her 70’s and severely inclined, I’d guess, to more than 45 degrees. I marveled that there was a very large, formidable bag hanging from her neck. From where I stood it had to be a very real reason for her unseemly posture. It is the kind of bag that a much younger and stronger woman might hang from her shoulders.

I looked away before she could catch my incredulous stare.

Though she was painfully bent, she emitted a discernable aura and a distinct bearing of grace. Our eyes inevitably met, there was an instant flashing smile, which bespoke a Pierian Spring of power.

I am around six feet tall, she about three feet eleven at the highest point of her deformed frame. I suppose that I will not adequately articulate the message that passed between us. She looked up and I down. She gave and I took: Was it, “This is my blessing, what’s yours?” or was it simply, “I’m OK, you’re OK?” All I really know is that rarely have I heard anything spoken so eloquently without the utterance of a single word.

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sept 28, 2009

Loaves of Bread and Tidal Waves

I threw some bread on the water yesterday
And found it to be true
Even a few crumbs will cause a tidal wave,
Giant loaves coming at you

He stood awhile at my table and played with the Kukui turtles. He looked at other things but always, he returned to the turtles, then silently he moved away.

Two other ladies told of a grand-daughter whom he dearly loves and that he was probably thinking of her and how much she loves turtles.

I became aware that he was hovering near and as he sidled to my table once more, I cast my crumbs upon the water;

“Please sir, I’d like you to have this turtle.” The very same he had already held lovingly.

“Oh no, I don’t have enough money,” he blurted.

“No you cannot pay me for this one, it belongs to someone special, I want you to have it.”

Sheer joy! I thought I had seen it before, perhaps I have, but never as it glowed from the entire body of this man.

The day rose in tidal proportion, so many loaves of bread.

Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Oct 2, 2009


All he can do is hop in order to hustle away when he feels threatened. He cannot even escape to a nearby branch, which would not be normal for a Mynah bird anyway. Normal would be to create as much distance as possible from the perceived threat, but not so for Fred, which is the name I’ve given him.
Fred cannot fly! He cannot even spread his wings. He hops and runs with one wing partially open, but that is all.
Fred is confined to a small area. Where does he sleep at night if he sleeps at all?
Mynahs are very social birds and it is never more evident than toward evening when they begin to settle down for the night. Its not known to me whether their behavior is the same elsewhere but here in Hawaii, they have specially selected trees where they gather just before dusk.
The congregation is very noisy, they have a lot to talk about as they report on the activities of the day, but what of Fred? How does he fare? Maimed for life, will he ever know the sweet meaning of sidling up at evening to another of his own kind and rub feathers, so to speak?
He will watch with wonder at the glorious spectacle above as his peers prattle on about things, often trivial. He can only imagine as they hop and flit about the branches of the designated tree. Eventually, he too will fall asleep in his lowly hideaway, when they all call it a day. His days are never spent alone though. Friends come to attend, they seem to do so in shifts, alternating throughout the day. They run and walk with him and often have noisy debates with him, They bring a certain measure of joy to his life of confinement.
I pass and call to him and suddenly he is there, a lot closer than another would even dare. He hops away at my approach but it is not such a frantic thing. He pauses but still his wings fail. He looks at me and sits down. I fantasize, it is enough to believe that he knows me. No matter, I have seen something special and learned something important from him as well.


Papanui the storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Oct 12, 2009

No Title

(This was sent by a friend but I could not tell who the originator was-I did think it quite impressive and send it as a gift with the highest of regard for its anonymous author)

You are in your car driving home. Thoughts wander to the game you want to see, or meal you want to eat, when suddenly a sound unlike any you've ever heard fills the air. The sound is high above you. A trumpet? A choir? A choir of trumpets? You don't know, but you want to know. So you pull over, get out of your car, and look up.. As you do, you see you aren't the only curious one. The roadside has become a parking lot. Car doors are open, and people are Staring at the sky. Shoppers are racing out of the grocery store. The Little League baseball game across the street has come to a halt. Players and parents are searching the clouds And what they see, and what you see, has never before been seen.

As if the sky were a curtain, the drapes of the atmosphere part. A brilliant light spills onto the earth.There are no shadows. None.

From every hue ever seen and a million more never seen. Riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels. They pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square inch of the sky.

North. South. East...West

Thousands of silvery wings rise and fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim and seraphim chanting, Holy, holy, holy.... The final flank of angels is followed by twenty-four silver-bearded elders and a multitude of souls who join the angels in worship.
Suddenly, the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels turn, you turn, the entire world turns and there He is... Jesus.

Through waves of light you see the silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens his mouth, and you are surrounded by his declaration :

I am the Alpha and the Omega.

The angels bow their heads.... The elders remove their crowns... And before you is a Figure so consuming that you know, instantly you know: Nothing else matters.... Forget stock markets and school reports. Sales meetings and football games. Nothing is newsworthy.... All that mattered, matters no more.. For Christ has come.

Please let me know the exact time you read this. It is mystical--honest.
This morning when the Lord opened a window to Heaven, he saw me, and he asked:
My child, what is your greatest wish for today?

I responded: 'Lord please; take care of my family, my friends, the person who is reading this message, their family and their special friends. They deserve it and I love them very much'.
The love of God is like the ocean, you can see its beginnings but not its end.

ANGELS EXIST, but sometimes, since they don't all have wings we call them FRIENDS, SUCH AS YOU.

Pass this on to your friends.

Aaron T Watene

The Saga of the White Shoes

(Originally written to our sons but you might get a little something out of it too. References to ‘mom’ throughout this story are of course, references to their mother, Leilani, whose name I also often shorten to ‘Lani. Enjoy!)

As usual, I’m fussing about being on time and mom is still trying to get ready. It always reminds me of what happens when ‘an irresistible force meets and immovable object’ *o#y@7$^x? See what I mean! It blows your mind.
Eventually we head for the door but not before mom primps herself one more time, in front of the huge mirror that I actually bought for that purpose. She asks me if she looks okay. She knows and I know that she looks absolutely gorgeous but I mumble a “You look great, let’s go!”
As we go to get in the car, she wants to know if I locked the door? Have I got the keys? Have we got enough gas? What about the tickets???? I refuse to answer. They are the same questions of a thousand other departures, whether we are going to church, to the store around the corner or to California, but in a resigned moment I dutifully give my one word answer, “Yes!
As we approach the freeway, there’s a truck behind me who seems to be a little close. He stays too close the whole time. I step on the gas and pretty soon the two of us are weaving traffic. Maybe he wasn’t that close and maybe I like to drive fast. I do like to get where I’m going. Once more mom berates me for it and claims that I’m going to kill us both. Actually, I’m a very good, intelligent driver. Really!
We park the car in the employees area, which means it will not cost us anything when we are gone. I have learned to take one small bag whenever we travel, knowing that I’ll be toting three or four of mom’s. With that in mind, I’m careful to park as close as I can to a shuttle pickup point. Ah, perfect, a spot just opened about five steps away and a shuttle is already approaching. I have to holler at mom because she still hasn’t got out of the car yet even though I am already boarding with all the bags. She acts demure for the driver who melts at her dazzling smile and I sigh resignedly; She is queen of all her domain and she is mine. She puts her head on my shoulder as she sits next to me and like the driver, I melt too.
As I observe the lengthy line already waiting at Delta, I am unable to resist remarking something like; “I hate being late,” to which she retorts, “I didn’t have enough time.” This is supposed to be a completely justifiable response. We hope to get on the 8:10pm flight to LA. It doesn’t look good with two overbooked already. We proceed to the waiting area. I settle down to a favorite past-time of looking at the pretty girls. Mom reminds me not to stare but sometimes I forget.
Mom is talking to me about some shoes she bought and how they are hurting her feet when she walks. They are a cute white pair with a lattice like arrangement over the arch. She decides to just leave them there under the seat and thus begins ‘the saga of the white shoes.’
Our names are called and we are able to get seat assignments on the flight. As we move to depart a lady touches ‘Lani on the shoulder and says, “You’ve forgotten your shoes,” “I know, I’m leaving them and I don’t want them anymore.” The lady is chagrined and fades into the crowd. A man who has been eyeing mom the whole time, sees his chance and says, “Maam (with a stupid grin, intended to be a smile-just kidding), do you know that you’ve forgotten your shoes?” Mom gives him a killer smile, “Oh thank you but I don’t want them anymore.” There’s that look of astonishment or confusion. “It’s the same one I’ve had all these years too Mr.!”
Let’s get on the plane and maybe we’ll escape the shoes.
Wow! We almost made first class. Row 13, seats A and B. Close enough to act a little arrogant, ha! These people don’t know that we are ‘stand-bye.’
As everyone is finally settled into their seats, a stewardess is approaching holding high in the air, a pair of white shoes: “Does anyone know who owns these shoes?” Our seat companion rescues us by telling the attendant that the lady who owns them doesn’t want them anymore. Last night I dreamt about giant white shoes chasing us around airports and following us on airplanes.
As mom dozed on my shoulder once again, I thought, life has certainly never been boring. If I could write fast enough, everyday is a wonderful new story!
OK, we get to LAX but what to do now? We rent a car from Thrifty. Mom says that Harry Schultz has told her that we don’t
need insurance because the rental company already has it covered. I think that that is probably correct but I’m too nervous and pay the nine dollars anyway. At least I’m at peace about it. But I’m not going to get any peace from Mom who gets in one more comment, “If I was doing it, I wouldn’t buy it.” I’ve got a rebuttal in me but I hold it back and think, how powerful, how courageous, how magnanimous I am and I smile within myself and I can see that the agent has noticed how condescending I am. I’m the winner! Ha!
We have a map. All I have to do is read it. Piece of cake! Proceed to the street, go right, then right again and then the 105.
What happened? We went around the block. Mom asks, “Are we lost already?” I reply that I was just making sure where we are so that we can find our way back easily. Phew! That was quick. I go once more, slowly looking carefully and when I find the 105, I breathe an unobservable sigh of relief and act like I knew exactly what I was doing all along. We made it into Glendora via the 605 and the 210. Its quite late and we go to Denny’s near Grand Ave to eat.
Now we are very tired and need to find a place to ‘hole up.’ We go to the Glendora Motel but there’s no vacancy. We try two other places, same thing. So guess what? It’s about 1am and we go to the church on Alosta Ave (rt66). Its nice and dark there, so we park against the back of the Parking lot and sleep. That is, mom sleeps OK. She snores loudly, curled up in the back seat of the red Neon.
My sleep is hardly that. I don’t want to be caught here, so as soon as there’s a glimmer of morning, I’m ‘outa’ there. We wind up at the Shilo Inn up the 57. Rm 431, which has a fantastic view of the Freeway, yay!
The room is not any better than one at the Glendora Motel but we get a swimming pool and two mornings of complimentary breakfasts. So by my calculations, deduct $30 from room cost plus pool, the cost is about the same and of course it allows us to put on “uppity airs.’
We rest a bit, use our first morning of the complimentary breakfasts and then call Aaron Jr.
Ariel and Eli are waiting and excited when we arrive and of course that makes us excited too. Its about 9:30 am and because we can get back before 2pm, Aaron decides to join us. We head for Newport Beach. We find a metered area but we only have three quarters, so now what to do? The guy next to us is leaving so we tag his spot because his meter still has two hours left. Too bad we already spent our three quarters.
Mom has documented much of the activity of this visit with her video camera. It shows our explorations among the rocks and our contacts with the critters (lots of crabs) that live there. We had a lot of fun with the kids. Too soon, we had to get Aaron home in time for work.
Now its off to Wal-Mart. This is a dangerous time for me because Mom is at her highest level of oblivion when she is shopping. True to form, she and Ariel have lost all sense of time and place and us. They spend what I’m sure must have been three hours or more in the little girls area, trying on every ridiculous little thing (just kidding), while Eli and I are left to wander the eternal maze of remaining isles in the rest of the Wal-Mart store. After awhile Eli and I lay down some very heavy hinting about time and isn’t it time to go now? But as I said, they will have none of it and blithely continue laughing and carry on, absolutely ignoring our presence.
I succumb to Eli’s demand to visit the toy section. I have run out of excuses and divisive tactics to avoid the area and he is able to direct me most precisely. I manage to escape with no more than two swords and a military kit of some sort but I do make the mistake of passing the little boys area. But I am able to hold him to one dinosaur shirt. Actually, it was great fun and everyone was happy.
We all return to the Shiloh Inn where, while I doze on the bed, Mom and the kids go swimming. That’s good for an hour then its time to eat and so its off to Taco Bell where we order a whole slew of Mexican stuff. Finally, we hear the first audible signs of tiredness and at last their eyelids fall down into blessed sleep. While they sleep, we get them transported home at about midnight. We say our goodbyes to Aaron and Jacque and then go to look for a place to gas up our car and to vacuum it out before returning it.
We check out at about 7:30am and we are on our way home. I drove back around the 210 to the 605 but I think I could have gone via the 60 and hooked up with the 605 saving a bunch of miles. I just wasn’t confident about it so we went the long way around.
I was doing OK until I passed the 5 and suddenly things looked different, especially since Imperial Highway criss-crosses all over the place. I had to stop and use my cell phone to get directions back to Thrifty.
I am writing this part while waiting for a lucky call to board the 465 flight to Salt Lake City. The airport is full and the flight is overbooked by 19, so our chances are slimmer than when we came.
Well, we were not so lucky this time. Mom is waiting in another line to list us as standbys for the next flight out. It would have been OK had they not cancelled a flight earlier today.
Off in the corner I can see a pair of white shoes under a seat.
The time is now 12:50pm, Utah time. 11:50 LA. Mom has bought a MacDonald’s lunch. Since nobody knows me here, I think its probably OK to remove my dental partials. Its much more comfortable to eat that way. Mom tells me not to smile and so I don’t and I keep my mouth shut most of the time, chewing my food that way. It’s not easy but I’m brave.
When it comes time for me to restore my handsome self, I get up and walk somewhere, carefully replacing my teeth as I go. When I turn around, I flash the whole place a dazzling full faced grin.
Now Mom has asked me to remove myself two seats over so that she can make a bed along them. There are no obstructing arm rests and the main reason that I don’t fuss is that where I have to sit is right next to an attractive lady. Mom gives me that knowing look. The older I get, the prettier they look. Airports are a definite study of humanity. And don’t worry, I’m only looking.
Well its now 2pm Utah time, 1pm LA. We’ve not made this flight either and judging by the number of now familiar other standbys, it could be rough for the remaining flights today as well.
I guess you get what you deserve. An elderly lady has sat down beside me and from what I can gather, she has been stuck for three days. I don’t believe that she is aware that she smells like it. This is unkind to say but it is stifling and I don’t know how to gracefully move away.
OK, we’ve now missed the third flight since we began and the next is at 4:50pm LAX time. We tried for the United Express commuter to Fresno but the risk of connecting is greater than staying put and trying our luck with the two remaining flights. There are so many pairs of white shoes!
And now there’s an old man about a 100 feet away blowing his nose very hard in quick succession and loud enough to get the attention of the entire terminal. Its amazing just how much strength he has.
Next to us is a cute little girl doing what appears to be a cheerleaders routine for her parents. It’s close enough that I applaud, clapping my hands, which elicits a smile from her parents but now she is shy. Now they are all eating all kinds of assorted goodies, like Nachos, salads, and ice-cream. I’m beginning to salivate. My eyes are actually looking for white shoes.
Our names were actually called for the next flight but as we approached the podium we were denied on account of our attire not being appropriate for the first class area. There is one more flight and we have both changed, hoping that the way we now appear will be sufficient if an opportunity presents itself again. Talk about bad luck! Mom is not happy and I’m trying to cheer her up, which helps to cheer myself up.
Well here we are still traipsing around LAX, having now exhausted all possible chances of getting home today. We’ve decided to ‘hole up’ at the airport because room rates are so exorbitant. We’ve confiscated a row of seats on the United ticketing level and plan to bed down right there for the evening. Mom is supposed to be at work tonight and I’m supposed to be at work at 6am in the morning. Obviously, we are not going to make it, so we are going to lose some income.
It’s an eerie thing, it’s 11:10pm and it’s silent! Comparatively speaking. Just one or two people in a real hurry to get somewhere and only a few employees remain. Mom is stretched out across three seats again and already fast asleep. She has called Wal-Mart to tell them of her plight. We had Chicken McNuggets for supper and it felt like a banquet. Our next opportunity will be at 6am Monday morning. There’s some poster advertising thing down the way. It appears to be about shoes. I see a pair of white ones even if there aren’t any.
It’s now 10:40am, Monday morning and we are landing in the Valley of the Great Salt Lake. There’s a pair of white shoes sitting on the hood when get to our car. Mom likes these a whole lot better.

Love you boys,

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Re-write Oct 21, 2009

It was just one little mistake

(Mom says that I've already written this ???)

It’s Thursday, January 10, 2008. The time is approximately 11am when this story begins. I’m contemplating the thought of leaving my sales location on the deck of the Macadamia Farm. My spotlights are missing, which are important lighting for my display. I determine to make the run to Kaneohe, which is about 20 miles away. I cover things up and I’m off to purchase new lights.
It’s a smooth ride and soon I pull into City Mill, a local hardware store. I jump out of the car and hit the power lock button but every time I do, the knob on top of the door wont stay down. It just keeps popping back up. That’s never happened to me before. I’m in a hurry, I’ll figure it out another time. In a pronounced, frustrated way, I punch the knob down where this time it stays. I close the door and I’m inside the store.
Once inside I am quickly assisted in locating the items I need and I’m on my way back to work. I’m pleased that it took less time than I thought it would. It’s raining as I go out. I hurry to my car, searching for my keys as I’m doing so. I realize that they are not on me! A moment of truth flits across my mind. I bend over the windshield and sure enough, there they are looking so very not lost in the ignition. Did I mention its raining?
OK, I look around, in what had to be a reflex action. Did anyone see my stupidity? Does anyone ‘feel me?’ There used to be a girl who worked at the farm who said that all the time. “I feel you!” Well its raining and I am locked out of my car. “Can you feel me now!?” There’s no one around of course, so I hurry back into the store. I have trained myself to be thankful for everything, so I’m working hard at including this. I offer thanks for what I am about to experience and to learn (not as noble as that may sound). I calmly consider my options. I look for assistance by asking the cashier, “Do you have a ‘Slim Jim?’” She says that in fact they do. An assistant manager comes and gives it to me. I am very hopeful. I run to my car, apply the Slim Jim, but to no avail. I see a man about to get into his truck, “Sir!, excuse me sir, do you know how to use a Slim Jim?” “Yes I do,” he said, but when he saw that it was a Ford Taurus, he said that he probably could not get it open, especially since it was a power lock as well. I wished him a happy new year and returned the Slim Jim to the store.
I head for the nearest bus stop, which is about ten blocks away. Its an easy hike since I have been exercising every day. I catch the 55 and I’m back at the nut farm. Cozie, the manager, has made a $65 sale for me while I’ve been gone, which is just great. I put the new spotlights in place then pack things up. I must catch a bus to Kahuku (20 miles away) to get another key for the car. Sherry (an employee) loans me her car. She says it constantly needs water, Oh well. I’m on the road home and soon returning with the spare key. I get half way between Kahuku and Laie when I discover that now I have left my phone back at the house. I control myself quite well but not so much that I don’t cry out, “Why Lord? Why!?” the radiator is bone dry by the time I return Sherry’s car. I give her $20 for gas.
It is now after 4pm and to my surprise, Natalie (an artist sharing space on the deck) has been delayed and will leave for home any minute. I catch a ride with her going back through Kaneohe (20 miles the other way); I do not have to catch another bus going that way. She drops me off at City Mill.
Opening my car was not and probably never will be as delicious a thing to do as it was right then. I am very deliberate. I walk straight to the car with my key already in the grip of my fingers, held high and aimed at the keyhole long before I am anywhere near it. It slips smoothly into the slot and I turn it, half expecting it not to work, but it turns easily and I watch as the knob pops right up. I sigh audibly and exclaim, “Yes! thank you Lord!”
I slip into the seat and find to my great chagrin that the motor is still running. I did not know that all this time the motor was left running. I know. I know what you’re thinking, just don’t say it out loud. OK, OK, Go ahead. I’m laughing at myself too but not for the same reason you are. I’m laughing because the gas gage reads empty!
Am I grateful for anything? Yes, that there was enough gas to get me to a station.
It was just one tiny, little mistake.


Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Oct 30, 2009


Like you, I too have a place of personal retreat. I will hie to the ocean, to a spot where the trees and undergrowth in all their variety provide the necessary cover. Its very peaceful.
There’s a ‘perfect breeze.’ It is wafting cool though not cold. I lean with my back to my favorite tree. Two large roots run away from it, extending like the arms of the letter v. I sit at the emergence of the ‘v’. Its obviously a pine tree of some sort and needles long discarded are piled high and make for a very comfortable seat. I can rest my arms on the roots.
The breezes behave like the ebb and flow of the waves, they retreat a moment and caress in the next. I remain motionless as they slip past my face, gentle, oh so serene. It will be some time before I think to stir.
A Ghost crab haltingly follows the waterline and from time to time allows a wave to engulf and carry in and out. Sometime later, a Mynah bird walks the same line but never allows the water to touch her.
The sky is light blue and comes down to touch the ocean of deeper blue. The sea runs to green then another blue on approaching the shore. The horizon is so straight!
What would happen if the waves stopped their relentless arrivals? I suppose that might be like sitting next to a lake. Beautiful but different. No more steady roll of the waves and the sound of their breaking, no more expectation, no more dependence, no security. It would not be my island. Its fun to doze in and out.
Off to my left a tree has succumbed and fallen sideways into the water. It continues as it lies, two powerful branches are determined to hold it above the fray. Most of its roots are in the air and no longer serve but the other half of the system yet sustain. There is no thought of giving up. Off to the right are the remains of a pier, nature’s reclamation. An islet lies shimmering in the distance. I am surrounded by nature’s quiet.
Someone has brought a genuine sea swimming dog. I’ve never seen one so willing to stay far out in the deep for that long. Suddenly we have all kinds of frolicking company. There are many ways to enjoy the shoreline. The dog sees the leash and immediately escapes back to the deep. Its interesting, even fun to watch the different attempts to lure and the accompanying frustrations when they don’t work. This is an all knowing dog. They leave and he comes out of the water, shakes himself off and bounds after them.
The shadows are very long now. If only the great legendary Maui could have known to put more time in an hour. But maybe it is just as well because as my thoughts went visiting upon my imperfections, I don’t want to spend that much time on the great list. There are sublime promises. I see the great choir singing, “Oh Divine Redeemer….. remember not , remember not……”
My new day, so full of resolve.

Aaron T Watene
Papanui the Storyteller
Nov 8, 2009

Play ball!!!

A little Japanese boy, about two perhaps, stands with Ping Pong bat in hand and cries for someone to pitch the ball. A Japanese man, about twenty-four perhaps, steps to the mound, stomps and prances just like a pitcher and much to the delight of the would be Hall of Famer. There’s a lengthy, flailing, gyrating wind-up and then at last the ball is delivered.
A sorta swing and a sorta hit, sends the ball under some tables to mingle with rows of assorted legs. The tourists are eager as they scramble to retrieve, all of which draws forth (to me)unintelligible shouts of glee that only a two year old boy can emit.

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sat Nov 7, 2009

A Bouquet of Joy

The young man came directly, right to us or rather, to the simple, yet colorfully made Plumerias arrayed on on our table. “They look so pretty!” And with very little inspection, he also said, “I’ll take these two, a purple and a yellow.”
I questioned his obvious certainty of choice, to which he confessed at having seen them already, yesterday. He and his wife are honeymooning and ‘holed up’ in a nearby beach house.
While she showered this morning, he thought to carry out his plan of a surprise bouquet. With what appeared to be meager resources, he made his grand $6 purchase. I dared to ask if we could contribute to such a private cause. ‘Lani had just completed making a gorgeous pair of earrings and wondered if he might accept them as a gift. To see the beam on his face, from one ear clear to the other, was a joy to behold, beyond price! Softly, tenderly, he said, “She will love these.”
Our hearts went awhile with him, and with them.

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Rainy Nov 11, 2009

A leisurely drive

Its an easy Sabbath and a leisurely drive along the highway. There are two lanes going my way. I come to a rare country stop light and roll right up and ‘toe the line.’ Another car pulls along side in the other lane. Beyond the light at about 300ft I can see that our lanes will merge.
The stage is fully set!
If it’s a man, my carnal instinct is to crush the pedal and crush him too as I slip into the merge ahead of him, after all I was here first.
If it’s a woman, my carnal instinct is to crush her as well, after all I can’t let a woman beat me now, can I?
Or I can do what I did. I took my time across the line, while not one but two cars crushed pedals and cruised into the merge ahead of me.
They looked so carnal! It’ll be Monday tomorrow!

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Nov 15, 2009

A touch of Christmas

Accompanied by a sister and Brother-in-law, the man fretted back and forth, unable to decide what to get his girlfriend. First this, then that and what about this and what do you think of that. After a while I think I began to bleed too, his pain becoming palpable.
He constantly searched his pockets in hopeless attempts to find the requisite funds but always coming up short. His companions made no attempt to help, perhaps there was good reason. Between his earnestness and my growing anxiety, I relented and accepted the $1.85 (way short) for the bracelet and in the ‘spur of the moment’ I threw in a matching pair of earrings as well. His jaw dropped and I stopped bleeding.“Merry Christmas, my man!”

Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene
Sat. Nov 28, 2009

Balls and Bills

Balls & Bills

Juggling takes a lot of skill and a lot of focus
Apparently you just have to keep everything in the air
As soon as one ball gets too low, you’ve got to grab it
And send it soaring again. See, as soon as you take
your eye off the ball everything crumbles.
A good juggler knows where every ball is all of the time

Another month already. Some juggle balls, others, all sorts of things, very skillfully. But are they as good as I am at juggling the bills?

OK I’m lining them all up. There’s the rent. I love that one, I’ll just put it over here ‘cause I know its one that I can’t manipulate very much, it has no wiggle room, no flexibility. So yeah, I’ll just put it over here
Let’s see who’s next, Oh yes, Insurance. I don’t much like thinking about this one. Oh heck, just because I said that, now I’m thinking about it. Its sort of a bill filled with irony. You pay and pay and when you die someone gets paid but it isn’t you! Of course it’s a good thing to do right? OK then another nonflexible goes over here too. I think I’ll watch some tv for a while, juggling can be very tiring.


Papanui the Storyteller
Aaron T Watene

Thursday, January 14, 2010

The Books Are Here!!!

The books have finally arrived!! After much waiting anticipation and nerve build up, they are finally here.