hi & lo

I went to Hilo the other day, on my day off. I put my bicycle on the bus and headed to the big city. (Which bike rack rubbed the sides of my tires so bald I have since had a total tire blow-out and am mildly depressed). In town I bumbled, puttered, appreciated, and recoiled.

'Hmm?' you say.

From the abomination which I shall refer to as the "middle-aged-tourist-fat-man...shirt?"

Just because you are on vacation, it is Hawaii, it is hot, and you are a man, does not mean you are entitled to loll about, on the sidewalk, eating ice cream, with your shirt off. No. Not off - that would be somehow more acceptable. But rolled up over your ponderous paunch.

And it was not one man. Not two. But five. Apparently all deriving some sort of ill-advised strength in numbers.

And they were with their wives. And not a wife looked around at the rest of us pinned to our cafe chairs in abject horror and quietly motioned to her respective husband to 'roll down your shirt.' (um...note: I do not subscribe to traditional gender roles - no no nope - but, in defense of myself, they seemed to).

And they were sunburned. Which transformed the merely obscene, into the macabre.