This year is coming to an end, and not a nanosecond too soon.
As if the dreadful pandemic isn’t tragic enough, we’ve also had to endure silly but dangerous theatrics in the nation’s capital.
An acquaintance was ranting long and loud about the spectacle at the White House, and to hold up my end of the conversation, I stated the obvious.
“I guess you voted for the other guy.” His reply? No, he voted for the incumbent. Mr. Bombshell added, “he entertained me.” Ah. So that explains at least some of it.
Those tethered to televisions, iPads and iPhones turned them on every morning to catch up with the antics of the day. But I could only take so much of it, and am relieved to be half an ocean away from the crazy continent, where pupule combined with pandemic turned into science fiction.
Some people love sci-fi, but I am not among them. During my early years in Hilo, when I had to read fiction such as “Little House on the Prairie” and “Wuthering Heights,” I saw these novels as science fiction because they revealed strange and alien worlds that I didn’t care to inhabit.
Even today my reading is confined mostly to nonfiction. But because I taught for decades at a college and dealt with reports, papers and proposals, I needed other ways to engage my stodgy brain. Thankfully, the daily newspaper has always been at my doorstep, offering something to chew on with my morning coffee.
For this last column in 2020, I will try to end our sad and scary year with a laugh, and to do this, I pick up our faithful pepa and turn to the classified ads.
There was a time when the classifieds ran for pages, rewarding me with endless mirth and merriment. But even though these columns of ads are better than fiction or science fiction, today with online everything, they’re fewer than before. And yet, I still find tidbits to tickle my funny bone and tease my imagination.
Here’s one advertising “Pig for adoption. Home raised, very funny, great fertilizing unit.”
Whoa! Don’t you just want to bring home that pooping porker? I thought “very funny” sealed the deal, but a no-fun family member talked me out of adopting our irresistible oinker.
How about the garage sale in Panaewa that suggests shoppers “bring own vehicle for transport.”
Hello? It’s Panaewa. Don’t come on rollerskates.
Another ad for a garage sale starting at 6:30 a.m. cautioned, “No early birds.”
I guess garage-salers have been known to show up in the dark.
What about “Room for rent in downtown Hilo … occasionally share with owner.” Hmmmm. You run with that one.
Then there’s “Designer Pup.” Is this a typo? Designer pump, designer cup … after toying with possibilities, I conclude pup must mean dog. Designer dog. Howzat for science fiction? But maybe it’s simply advertising dog as accessory. Not sci-fi, but sci-fashion.
In case you’re wondering if I’ve gone bananas, what’s happening is that after nearly a year of isolation and nutso news, my brain feels like mashed potatoes as the outside world spins surreal.
What we need in 2021, especially for those devoted to fiction and science fiction, is to give it a rest while we focus on enormous real-life challenges such as getting the virus under control and dealing with what’s often advertised in the classifieds: work needed, tutor wanted, help available.
As for funny pig, that’s my kind of world. But designer dog? Not so much.
Rochelle delaCruz was born in Hilo, graduated from Hilo High School, then left to go to college. After teaching for 30 years in Seattle, Wash., she retired and returned home to Hawaii. She welcomes your comments at rainysideview@gmail.com. Her column appears every other Monday.
