At the end of the day yesterday, I came home a little bit later than usual. It was around 5:00 pm. I drove down Farrington Highway instead of coming around Kamaaha. That’s when I realized that the elections are REALLY upon us.

There were groups of people on all four corners of the intersection of Farrington Highway and Fort Barrette Road. They were waving signs to support local candidates running for office. Their goal is to get us to vote for that person in the upcoming primary on Saturday, September 20.

This seems to be a prime time and spot, just like near the power plant coming east around Kahe point, also on Farrington Highway. These are both places with a lot of traffic as people return home from their busy days of work and school and errands and business. This Kapolei intersection sees people from Makakilo, Ewa Beach, the Villages of Kapolei, Kalaeloa and many other commuters desperate enough to brave the late afternoon congestion so they can shop at Safeway and buy fresh produce.

Another popular place for sign waivers is, once again, on Farrington Highway on the makai side as it turns into H1 East near Hono Kai Hale. I’ve seen many a candidate and his/her supporters stationed there in the early a.m. to catch the morning commuters on their way to town.

Here’s my concern. Is it a traffic hazard? I’d be interested to know if there have been any traffic accidents related to election campaign sign waving. Or am I the only person with a near miss or two as I glance away from the road to check it out?

I know I take a quick look to see the name on the sign and then, depending on my mood or need for speed, check out who is holding the signs to see if there is anybody I know. I’m never sure if I am supposed to wave back or not.

My experience is that as it nears the election date, the sign wavers get a bit more aggressive. They wave with a tad more enthusiasm, emphatically trying to get my attention and, hopefully, my vote.

By November I am tired of seeing them, thankful when the voting is pau. Then I no longer have to pretend I don’t see them or feel compelled to wave aloha to a candidate that I don’t really support. It’s kind of like after New Year’s when the Christmas decorations finally come down. They were exciting at first, heralding the season to come. But their purpose has passed.

I’m looking forward to September 20 and November 4. I am ready to cast my ballot. I encourage everybody to vote.

While it’s too late to register for the primaries, there’s still time before the general election in November. The deadline is October 6.

If you are registerd already you can vote in the primaries early on Mondays through Saturdays until September 18 at Kapolei Hale.

Otherwise, mark your calendars for September 18 and November 4. But if you forget, I’m sure all the sign wavers will remind you.

My friend Candy has nice mangoes. They are sweet and juicy and delicious.

I know this because she loves to share them. I love mango season. She brings them to me all the time. If I ask for one, I get a bunch. If I ask for a few, I get the whole box with instructions to share them with neighbors and friends. They come dried and pickled and in cookies and bread. She served mango margaritas at a gathering last week.

That’s one of the things that I’ve enjoyed so much about living and working right in the middle of local culture, the general custom of sharing. Fish, fruit, smoked meat, flowers or any other beautiful and delicious creation neighbors and cousins and friends have raised or created or caught. By participating in this custom I have eaten some of the most delicious fresh fish and fruit and vegetables and smelled some of the sweetest flowers I could ever in my life imagine embracing.

But Candy is the most sharingest person I know. She brings baked goods and fresh produce and feeds the masses–or at least me.

That’s why it is so nice to find her and her family and their mangoes on this really cool website: Share Your Table. It is nicely designed and the stories are beautifully written. That’s the button you click to read hers: Stories.

Check out her blog if you get a chance. And there’s recipes too.

When I first began teaching at Wai’anae High School eighteen years ago, it took me a little while to get used to how the kids talked. Combine the cultural differences of a So Cal girl in a local leeward Oahu high school with the idiosyncrasies of general teenage slang and I had some assimilating to do.

But I caught on fairly quickly and soon learned that if somebody said that something was “bad,” that it meant that it was really, really good.

“I can deal with this,” I surmised. I’d been using “hot” and “cool” somewhat interchangeably for years. I’d known people from Boston to say “wicked” as a positive term. Bad easily made sense.

Over time I figured out that my student’s colloquial language had shifted. Bad became passe, old fashioned, not cool. Now things were “Phat.” Once again, this meant really, really good.

I found this term a bit more problematic than “bad.” I could recognize its use, understand its meaning, but I was very uncomfortable saying it myself.

Too close to home. I had spent most of my life worrying about being fat or trying to lose a pound or two. I could not bring myself to discard its negative implications and incorporate it into my daily language. There was no way that phat could be good to me.

Thank goodness that the teens have moved on.

When the term “my bad” surfacd a few years ago I heartily embraced the concept. It totally worked for me. “Please excuse me, I made a mistake,” it said to me.

At this point I was a little too old to actually say it myself and not look stupid, but I enjoyed hearing it from other people. It was a good combination of the word’s true connotation with the short cut style of slang, clever.

Now that I am over forty, it’s not just the teenagers who seem young anymore. Even the new teachers are a completely different generation, with their own language.

That became quite apparant to me this weekend while talking to some new yearbook advisers at a statewide workshop we held at Searider Productions. On several different occasions, with completely different people, I heard a new expression.

The first time I heard it was this summer from one of the lifeguards at our pool. The word is “Sik,” and it has nothing to do with health. Once again, it means that something is really really good in a very cool way.

If I look back over my almost 20 years of teaching, in almost two decades of dealing with teenagers and their language and their worlds, it has been an amazing journey, for me as well as their slang. I can honestly say that I have changed as much as they.

I’d like to think that each phase of my development as a teacher can be described in a positive light. I started off as a “bad girl,” moved on to being a “phat chic,” and have definitely become a “sik lady.”

Apparently sik is the new good. And it seems like it’s here to stay, for a while.

My daughter came home from the mainland this week. Hawaiian Airlines did a great job with the unaccompanied minor service. They actually called me the morning of her flight to tell me how to check in and meet her at the gate. Thank you, Henry, for calling.

I got quick and friendly service at the counter and excellent instructions about how to go to the gate which would be at the mainland terminal. Only I was allowed, so my husband and other daughter waited at baggage claim.

Unfortunately the Wiki Wiki Shuttle was not as well organized. I found the boarding area for the shuttle with no problem, thinking that I was happy to have so much time. But the woman at the information desk insisted that I needed to go to a different gate other than the one written on the gate pass I had in my hand which was the same one that Henry had told me about when he called that morning to remind me to pick up my daughter. Actually, he wanted to make sure that I knew I had to be there at least 40 minutes before the plane arrived for me to be allowed to go to the gate.

So I listened to the new lady and got on the bus for gate 28 instead of the original 21. That’s where my problems started. Of course it was the wrong gate and getting back to the boarding station to get on the right shuttle was hard. I ended up walking all the way back,  finally finding the right shuttle.

As the driver was calling the stops, I realized that I was looking for a gate number and he was announcing airlines. I approached him and asked for gate 21 and he said that we had already passed that stop. I suggested that he should say the gate numbers, but it was not well received. He did say I could get off here and walk and so I did. I was worried that my daughter would arrive and I would not be there to greet her.

I managed to get to the gate a few minutes before the plane and was relieved that it actually was the right place. She came off the plane and her escort was very responsible to check my I.D. before I could embrace my child. I appreciate the care they took with her safety.

We walked back to the shuttle which took us back to the inter island terminal so we could retrieve her luggage. That’s when I understood why Henry called to make sure I could be at the gate. This would have been a long haul for the escort and complicated for my daughter.

So, regardless of the confusing ground transportation, I do believe that Hawaiian Airlines took excellent care of my daughter both to and from the mainland this summer and I really appreciate it a lot.

Something happened to me at the Kapolei shopping center today that was kind of disturbing. I’m wondering if this has happened to anybody else. And I’m also wondering what other people would have done.

I was walking from Subway to the parking lot and just as I approached my car I heard somebody call from a distance, “Excuse me ma’am.” I wasn’t sure if the voice was addressing me or the woman who was getting into her car right next to mine. We both looked and it appeared that a man was calling me. I did not recognize him so I got into my car.

He came up to me and asked if I could help him. I told him I was in a hurry, but he said that his moped had been stolen. I interrupted him and said that I was not the person to help him. I was thinking that I did not have time to give him a ride. I would not given a strange man a ride anyway. He continued to say that he needed $2.00 for the bus to get to Barber’s Point and I reiterated that I am not the person to help him. I’m not opposed to giving people money to help them out, but he made me nervous.

He ran off somewhat exasperated and I got in my car and left. I couldn’t help but feel bad. I would hate to be the person who should have helped him and not have done it. Unfortunately, these days it’s hard to trust anybody and I just wanted him to go away.

Besides, I rationalized, if that had happened to me I would have called the police and I’m sure they would have helped me figure out a way to get to Barber’s Point. He could have done the same. But it still pulls on me in an uncomfortable way. That’s probably why he picked me.

So, the question is: has this happened to you? what would you have done?