HOW DID YOU LEARN TO TYPE?

As a youth growing up, schools offered what was called a typing class, where you learned how to type on a typewriter. OK, if you don’t know what a typewriter is (because it’s obsolete now), ask your parents or grandparents.

If you knew how to type, you needed that typewriter as well as paper to insert, to see the fruits of your work.

Five-finger typing

In more recent eras, kids who wanted to type took keyboarding classes, to master the art of typing, not on a typewriter but on a computer keyboard. With keyboarding, of course, there’s no paper and the result of your input is displayed on the computer screen.

Typewriters were replaced by computers over the decades.

But there are precise memories of learning typing the old way.

If you took typing lessons, you surely remember the ubiquitous  sentence you had to master on your typewriter.  Over and over.

That sentence was The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog, an English-language pangram—a sentence that contains all of the letters of the English alphabet.

Typewriter keyboard

If you could repeatedly type that, at a speed of, say 65 words per minute, you’d be somewhat of a master. Without making a typo(mistake).

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

It was redundant, but necessary, to take ownership and conquer the keyboard.

A vintage typewriter

And reflecting on the typewriter: if you made an error, you could erase it with a circular eraser attached with a brush; you needed a inked fabric ribbon to “print” your texts; if you had a deluxe ribbon, you could type in black and red ink; you had to return your carriage, to progress from one line to the next.

If you didn’t learn the five-finger way to type, you probably do the one finger-two hand hunt and peck system.

What memories, good or bad, do you have about the trysts of

typing? …

IF AALA PARK HAD A DIFFERENT PAST…

Depends on when and where you lived, Aala Park conjures many memories, some pleasant, many not.

I grew up in the Liliha-Palama area and attended school in Kalihi, so back in the day, Aala Park was a hub with a mix of merchants, park users and if memory is correct, served as a major transit point for HRT, the bus service known as Honolulu Rapid Transit.  If you were west bound,  this was the place to transfer – on King Street, which was two-way then — to hop on a Liliha or Kalihi bus.

Aala Park’s east side border is Nuuanu Stream.

Today, it’s a site overtaken by the homeless, with no shops, no legit commuter foot traffic, since its boundary streets – west-bound on Beretania, west-bound on Hotel, and east-bound on King – are all one-way. (Beretania is partially two-way). The three streets converge at Nuuanu Stream.

But what if Aala Park had a different destiny? That it didn’t become a hangout for druggies and the homeless? That it transitioned into a recreation destination?

Shops nearby Aala Park included a saloon and grocery store.

Aala would have evolved into a totally different place.

The retail cluster is long gone. I recall Japanese restaurants and movie theaters back in the day, and though I don’t remember ‘em, Aala boasted two baseball diamonds and at one point became the zone’s defining trademark. Aala Park hosted local baseball games with teams such as the Honolulus, the Kamehamehas, the Punahous, the Maile Ilimas.

Politicos gathered for rallies. Families shopped for gifts, at park bazaars and at merchants across the street.

The park’s old comfort station, built in 1916, was the city’s first public restroom.

Toyo Theatre was inspired by a Japan shrine.

An architectural gem – the Toyo Theatre – was a movie house built in the late 1930s with an ornate Asian motif designed by Charles W. Dickey, inspired by the Toshogu Shrine of Ieyasu Tokugawa in Nikko, Japan. The theater was located on College Walk, a stone’s throw from the River Street drainage canal that still is there. The movie house  was renamed Aala after WWII, and razed years later. And believe it or not, a Las Vegas-bound company of “Hair,” featuring the late James Grant Benton, was staged here.

OR&L diesel train, in Iwilei

Further across the street was the terminal for OR&L (Oahu Rail & Land) railway station,  which operated trains to Kahuku and back, between 1889 and 1971. I recall, as a youngster, we had a family trek to parks and beaches of Haleiwa and the remnants of the Iwilei station, across Aala Park, remain today. (There was a turntable for a turn-around in the city). The train carried passengers as well as transporting sugar cane and pineapple from the Ewa Plain to Kahuku.

But Aala became the spot to avoid and the stigma remains today. A skateboard park on the Beretania side of the park now offers recreational space for nearby tenants. The green space – grassy lawn, shade trees – is nice. But the stigma of a dubious past keeps folks away.

Do you have remembrances to share, about the Aala Park of yesteryear?

THE MASK-ERADE IS NOT YET OVER

Just asking…

Let’s get something straight: even if CDS has loosened its COVID-19 regulations, the protocols in Hawaii remain somewhat firm regarding face masks. Like it or not, masks are not yet history.

Some are unmasking, based on national rules. But on the home front, masks still rule and some recommendations remain:

Mask wearing depends on when and where
  • Retailers still would like to have customers masked. That means merchants such as Costco, Target, WalMart, Longs and Walgreen (The national mandate does not apply here).
  • Ditto, restaurants. You wear your mask upon entry, you remove when you chat, drink and eat.
  • Airlines still are firm: no masks, no flight. Suggestion: keep a mask tucked into hour carry-on, cuz you’re gonna need it.
  • With many adults getting vaxxed – those who’ve resisted, what’s the matter? – there’s still the matter of children at home. As schools look to the fall resumption of in-person classes, with some hybrid situations were virtual learning might continue – unvaccinated children could still need to don face masks.
  • As activities mount — such as outdoor sports, indoor concerts and theater, and other recreational and entertainment shows —  the mask factor may depend on the venue and the event. Football, no masks; indoor theater, masking until further notice.

And a somewhat giddy note: As you gather with friends you haven’t seen since last year and the during the darker days of the pandemic, don’t you feel a tad foolish when someone hauls out an iPhone for a selfie, and you are masked, and you’re beaming with a huge smile … that cannot be seen?

TAKE-OUT SAIMIN? BRING YOUR OWN POT

Welcome to “Down Memory Lane,” a window of reflection. We’ll occasionally look back and remember people, places and things that made Hawaii special. We’ll welcome you to jump in periodically, too, to recall and relive another time when folks and destinations live mostly in memories.

If you’re of a certain vintage, you clearly will remember a saimin stand in your neighborhood, where you could get a bowl of noodles and broth and chit-chat, likely at picnic tables and benches, and slurp to your heart’s content.

Look around now; the mom-and-pop saimin stand is practically history.  Boulevard Saimin shuttered a few months back, and while Zippy’s and Shiro’s and even Rainbow Drive In can whip out a house specialty, the joints of the 1950s and ‘60s were pure gems.

When I was a kid, perhaps 10 or 12, living with my parents in Liliha, we were  five or six blocks away from Hall Street, off Kukui Street (don’t look, long gone), where a saimin stand flourished.

I remember eating in once, but our ritual was to do takeout. We had to bring our own stove top pot, order, then walk home with the hot pot.

There would be enough portions to serve four, with kamaboko and slivers of char siu, swimming in the broth and noodles. Chopped green onions provided a burst of green cheer. On special occasions, we might order wun ton min. I don’t recall the cost, but I remember that sticks of barbecue meat, grilled at the stand, were 5 cents apiece and we took four home as a side dish.

A few years later, a smaller saimin stand opened on Liliha at Vineyard Streets, which was closer than the trek to Hall Street. I think they had paper take-home containers; we didn’t need to bring our own pot.

Today, Hamura’s Saimin on Kauai is possibly the iconic model of the classic stand. Few seats, traditional menu, long lines before the pandemic.

Curiously, two stands have survived in Honolulu – Palace Saimin in Kalihi and Old Saimin Stand in Kapalama. Tanaka’s Saimin, or the chain of Ramen-Ya outlets, are newer

models of the old-fashioned stands … and don’t fit the template.

Do you recall a special saimin stand in your neighborhood? Or perhaps your family operated one?  Or the pot take-outs?

WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER MOST OF THE OLD HONOLULU STADIUM?

Just asking…

What memories do you have of the old Honolulu Stadium in Moili‘ili?

Honolulu Stadium, aka Termite Palace

Yep, the place that earned the nickname Termite Palace?

The site of many football games and ILH championships?

Where rivalries were truly intense?

Where Elvis Presley’s first Hawaii concert was staged?

Where the Goodyear tire encircled the clock?

Where the Hawaii Islanders played out many baseball seasons?

Surely, you have many fond recollections … so why not share and, if you have ‘em, post vintage photos?