Post #712895 by Doc Aikane on Wed, Apr 2, 2014 10:12 PM

I was born the third son of a dysthymic electrical lineman and a naïve Catholic woman who lost her virginity to said man at age 34, unexpectedly becoming pregnant with his bastard child. Not that a bastard is a bad thing, after all if not for this first undesired pregnancy and the next one that followed, I never would have had my chance to be the third to blossom without intent in my mother’s womb and finally find my way to this earth.

My childhood was full of all the usual meaningless dribble which we all look back on with great fondness as though we each had something special that no one outside of out immediate circle of existence at the time could ever possibly understand. Put bug in a jar, poke holes in jar lid, discover bug dead the next day. Genius. Scribble a circle with a yellow crayon and a box with a black crayon and tell mom it’s your house and the sun. Stupendous.

But then 1972 arrived, and two miraculous things happen. First, in November, Bobby found this Tiki idol at a construction site and discovered the taboo curse associated with it, and he had to bring it to the ancient burial ground or bad luck would have followed him forever. Then a month later, I walk into the lobby of the Polynesian Resort at Walt Disney World for the first time. Angels sing, trumpets blow, and parrots . . . well they make that awful sound they make. Without a doubt I’ll find my own Tiki idol in this yet undiscovered magical place where Hawaiian steel guitars can be heard under water in the pool, and each night real Polynesian Hula dancers greet guests who come for the luau. The music, the flowers, the waterfalls – it’s everything I could ask for, even if most of it was just created out of concrete and plastic one year ago.

And that little spark of joy still strikes me each time I walk into faux-waii to this day. In fact the joy might be even a little greater now that I’m old enough to walk into the Mai Kai and suck down a Barrel O’ Rum or two. Sure, all this Tiki stuff started with WWII soldiers and sailors yada yada yada. But so what. This is MY Tiki fantasy now. And it involves Disney, and rum, and my Ukulele, and rum, and orchids, and rum, and pork cooked any way anyone cares to serve it to me. And rum.

So there’s my story, straight from my brain without edit just like Ginsberg would have wanted it. I would go back and proof read it all but I’ve already put this in an envelope and stamped it and sent it off to Tiki Central.

I’m looking forward to exploring here. And maybe I’ll find that Tiki idol some day.