Friday, March 04, 2005

Wai? Because we love you!

Linda and I are in Waikiki. Just the name itself sounds so exotic. People say it is like a cross between Tokyo and Miami Beach. I think that’s an accurate description.

We are staying in a penthouse suite on the 44th floor of the Island Colony about 4 blocks from the beach. Our room has a double bed, a sofa bed couch, a kitchenette, a lanai, and a small bathroom. The key is of course the lanai where we spend most of our time and from whence I write this edition of Swedish Sloth.

Ideas flood my head. I am getting vain in my mid 30’s. I think maybe if I post pictures of naked Swedish girls at the top of my posts I might get more readers. I think I will try that. But not now. I am filled with peace. I am drinking a mai-tai and munching occasionally on some macadamia nuts. Blonde on Blonde is on the stereo. It’s almost 80 degrees Fahrenheit outside now at 8:00 pm.

Waikiki is different. In my Jungian mind I have identified three major distinct archetypes strolling the shores around here not counting the individuals:

1. The Japanese Hipster
2. The Fat American Tourist
3. The Surfer

Almost everyone can be put in one of these 3 categories. I am hopefully one of the individuals and not one of the Fat American Tourists. Truthfully, I have never fit into a category in my life except maybe the Dipsomaniacal Sloth category. Fuck me. I like to think I belong on the fringe. I feel like more like an artist than an alcoholic.

The Japanese Hipsters are the best. I want to hang out with them so badly. They walk around mostly at night with their fancy coifs and their designer threads. There is almost always one boy and one girl. Occassioanlly they travel in groups. They look like dolls, they are so thin and perfect looking. The boys are dressed in fashionable clothes with trimmed goatees and smart sunglasses. The girls are equally decked out in flower pattern French cut dresses and high heels, although they look a little confused as to the point of it all. The boys seem more sure they are doing the right thing.

But where do they go and what do they do? I want to follow one around and find out. That is my mission for the next week. I don’t think they go out drinking… my guess is that they just prance around for a few hours and then go home and go to bed. Me I don’t see the point of going out without stopping by at least one pub. I must be old-fashioned.

Sweden? The idea behind this blog is not to extol the virtues of the Hawaiian Islands but rather to explain the perspectives of an American moving to Sweden. And that’s not an original idea, as it’s already being done quite well by Francis Strand. But of course perspective is perspective. I am not a gay American man married to a Swedish man. I am the American living embodiment of Sloth living with a Swedish woman. And Sloth is a sin, according to that prick we refer to as the Judeao-Christian God.

Being gay is not even a sin according to any Bible passage I've ever read. It's just the gay self-negating hypocritical preachers who gay bash. Sodom was a city of vice, but it never mentions actual butt-fucking in the Bible. In all the Bible School classes I was forced into attending as a child, I have never read one thing about not being gay in the Ten Commandments. Sloth however is one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Oh, how I long for the day when I can no longer separate myself from the sin in which I live.

Long live Sloth in Hawaii!

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