The Last Of's: Final Thoughts on Being a Nickel-Plated Wayfarer

I think Former President George W. Bush called his final days in office the days of "last of's"--the last time I'll wake up and wonder what city I'm in. The last time I'll listen to a group of 40+ women complain to me about the room temperature, to which I respond with a look of concern and understanding. The last time I'll sit at the hotel bar alone with my thoughts and a crowd of Bluetooth toting businessmen chewing the fat.

Looking back from last year's posts as a Nickel-Plated Wayfarer, I wonder what I've learned this second time around? Patience, that's a quality I've definitely acquired. How many hours were spent in traffic jams? What about airport lines? How many flights were delayed or canceled? I can tell you, not once did I flip out and flail my arms in the air like a rabid monkey. Instead I've learned to recognize when something's out of my control and find the next best alternative, which oftentimes is simply waiting with a trusty newspaper.

I've learned how to stay organized (even though I lost my cell phone yesterday...the second time in a month!). Pocket routines have been essential in my life this year. My pen always goes in my left inside pocket of my jacket. My wallet always goes in the opposite one. My room key could always be found in my shirt pocket. If I wasn't wearing my Kino sandals, they were in the second compartment of my suitcase, waiting in the mesh-lined pocket.

I've learned empathy. Traveling every day, a person encounters many different lives and lifestyles, and not all of it is pretty. There are many out there who have had a pretty rough time of it. I've discovered the power of a genuine smile and a few words of understanding can work wonders for someone having a bad day, and those kind gestures often lead to a free hotel breakfast or being bumped to first class. Regardless, you meet a lot of jerks on the road, but also a lot of beautiful people. I've learned you have a choice to be either one.

So that's it. I gave my final announcement yesterday and told the ladies in the room I've had a great run of it. For the last time I told Judy, the banquet manager, I'll need my last extra gallon of coffee in the Regency Room. For the last time I told the guy making breakfast I'd have my last free ham, mushroom and spinach omelet with an orange juice and English Muffin. For the last time I told Kim at the front desk I was checking out of my room. And for the last time I retrieved my luggage from SeaTac Airport and headed home, exhausted from a five hour flight.

It's weird to think I'll never commute like that again. Flying every day becomes a lifestyle that sets a person apart from the moving world 35,000 feet below. Now that I'm finally down here again, it will be fun moving within it.

Thanks for reading!

Bruce & Barry Play Engelberg Humperdinck

Here's Bruce & Barry singing After the Loving by Engleberg Humperdinck on the beach. The video is too dark but if you turn it up on your stereo or headphones you can listen to the lovin' on island time.

Love in Hawaii...Mahalo to the Locals!

I arrived in Honolulu at 10:30pm Thursday night weary after over a six hour flight. My only solace on the plane was Marley and Me, which I felt strange tearing up during as I sat next to a shifty coach from some WNBA team I've never heard of. Random, yes, but it's just one of those things that occurs as a Nickel-Plated Wayfarer. Island Time is four hours earlier than Phoenix Time (Mountain Time?), so my body thought it was 3am when I finally went to bed. But it also meant waking up four hours later, and I was refreshed and ready for the festivities of Lei Day. Yes, "Lei Day is May Day" on Island Time and I made good use of it stringing up one of my own:

I gave it to Mary, a person I've traveled the country with to many places these past two years, including Jackson, MS, New Orleans, and Grand Rapids, MI. I presented my lei in the Hawaiian way with a hug and a kiss, as I received from my good friend at the hotel:


After a hard day's work I hopped in a cab where I had a good conversation about love with Toni, a Vietnamese cab driver who's lived on the island for over 15 years and has been happily married for over 30. He had much to say about how young and stupid I was, but in a more helpful, pedagogical way. Saying goodbye to Toni, I checked in to my room at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, a collection of five high-rise hotel buildings sitting on the shores of Waikiki. In the village there was a man-made pond with real penguins and a fancy jewelry shop among other retail options that were just as appealing. On the sixth floor of the Ali'i Tower I found my room had a balcony and overlooked the Pacific Ocean and all of the happy couples and families waddling around the sand.

There was a couple riding segways with bike helmets on and I yelled down to them "You don't need helmets for Segways!" I sat on my balcony, watching the ocean and thinking about how much love there is on Island Time when a pair of pigeons showed up to say hello. I suddenly felt lonely and decided to hit the bar, where I ordered a $13 pineapple drink and watched the hostess spray pigeons with water from a hose. I called to her "Leave them alone!" to which she responded "They're discusting, flying rats!" I wondered how much she wanted to spray the sentimental newlyweds as they populated the beaches and contributed to love on Island Time:

Could it be that love is manufactured here in Hawaii? I said "Aloha" to all sorts of people on the beach. Some literal "beach bums" sat under the gazebo by the squash courts later in the evening and said "Aloha" before I could so I approached them and was handed a beer. Bruce sat on his scooter and began strumming a tune that Barry began to sing along to.


Bruce's notes were light and melodic against Barry's voice, which was deep and filled with pain. Of all the sandy beaches, hula girls and surf boards on the island, our jam session on the beach was the best part of my time in Hawaii. The fuzz came and busted up our party at 10pm. Respect came from both my beach friends and the police, and everyone called each other by name. I'm sure this routine has lasted for years. I hugged my friends goodbye and and left in my bare feet. On my walk back to the hotel, I stopped in one last place for a beer and saw a bunch of kids dressed to the 9's, leaving their Senior Prom.


Hawaii is known for it's romantic landscapes and the feelings that go with it. I learned that the beauty on Waikiki is no novelty to the locals either, as their love was the genuine article to our postcard versions that come one week a year if we're lucky. I don't think the weather is the catalyst for love in Hawaii but it certainly does help.