Luau Night

The light of the moon brightens the night sky, the trade winds gently blow, the sounds from the pool echo upward to our balcony, and the lone singer accompanied by the guitar plays on in the open-air bar below. He is singing Jail House Rock; I loved that song when I was a kid- it's the first Elvis song I've heard here in Hawaii, but it's a bit loud as we settle down for the night.

We wore our matching Hawaiian prints to the luau- boys in Hawaiian shirts and girls in dresses. Surprisingly, we were the only ones wearing a matching set. We got to sit front and center of the stage and received a few compliments mostly from other women. My husband said we looked "cheesy," but it seemed appropriate for the setting. I am not a fan of buffets; the munsters ate very little, but the show was why we went. I had my first Mai Tai at the luau; next time I want the umbrella too. I'd recommend the luau for the show.

The vibrancy and energy of the dancers made it especially enjoyable. I particularly loved the grand finale, the fire dance, as did an enraptured Moose. Afterward, the Mule had to work through all of the moves she could remember. Those native dances convey emotions of fierceness or love or even hospitality, but something is taken away with a non-participating audience. The dancers seem to accept that it is a performance more than a real exchange. You get the idea that the dances were once part of communal gatherings with energy flowing both ways. One crazy tourist, pulled from the audience to learn the hula, seemed to have his own hula story to tell; he was a bit of comedic relief. Fortunately, they saved the mushy love song until near the end (think Wayne Newton) and then followed it with the fire dance. The Moose definitely has the "no mushy stuff" button deployed. I can't blame him; it was too much for me too. Here is a clip if it comes through from some of the dancing.

Wandering about the zoo today, we enjoyed the flowers, weather, animals, and space. The Mule chased the peacocks about while the Moose played on the playground equipment. In the late afternoon we returned to spend some time at the pool with slides. The Moose said, "Can we come back to Hawaii? With Dada?" When I told Dada about this later, Dada asked, "Is there an island where there aren't so many people?" It doesn't seem too busy, but I think he would just like to get away to a quieter spot. Maybe if we come back for a real vacation- meaning all of us on vacation, we can find a quieter spot to chill. Perhaps where they are not singing Jail House Rock down below. The Mule is requesting I go out for milk and cereal to top off that fancy luau dinner she did not eat. Gotta run.

The light of the moon brightens the night sky, the trade winds gently blow, the sounds from the pool echo upward to our balcony, and the lone singer accompanied by the guitar plays on in the open-air bar below. He is singing Jail House Rock; I loved that song when I was a kid- it's the first Elvis song I've heard here in Hawaii, but it's a bit loud as we settle down for the night.

We wore our matching Hawaiian prints to the luau- boys in Hawaiian shirts and girls in dresses. Surprisingly, we were the only ones wearing a matching set. We got to sit front and center of the stage and received a few compliments mostly from other women. My husband said we looked "cheesy," but it seemed appropriate for the setting. I am not a fan of buffets; the munsters ate very little, but the show was why we went. I had my first Mai Tai at the luau; next time I want the umbrella too. I'd recommend the luau for the show.

The vibrancy and energy of the dancers made it especially enjoyable. I particularly loved the grand finale, the fire dance, as did an enraptured Moose. Afterward, the Mule had to work through all of the moves she could remember. Those native dances convey emotions of fierceness or love or even hospitality, but something is taken away with a non-participating audience. The dancers seem to accept that it is a performance more than a real exchange. You get the idea that the dances were once part of communal gatherings with energy flowing both ways. One crazy tourist, pulled from the audience to learn the hula, seemed to have his own hula story to tell; he was a bit of comedic relief. Fortunately, they saved the mushy love song until near the end (think Wayne Newton) and then followed it with the fire dance. The Moose definitely has the "no mushy stuff" button deployed. I can't blame him; it was too much for me too. Here is a clip if it comes through from some of the dancing.

Wandering about the zoo today, we enjoyed the flowers, weather, animals, and space. The Mule chased the peacocks about while the Moose played on the playground equipment. In the late afternoon we returned to spend some time at the pool with slides. The Moose said, "Can we come back to Hawaii? With Dada?" When I told Dada about this later, Dada asked, "Is there an island where there aren't so many people?" It doesn't seem too busy, but I think he would just like to get away to a quieter spot. Maybe if we come back for a real vacation- meaning all of us on vacation, we can find a quieter spot to chill. Perhaps where they are not singing Jail House Rock down below. The Mule is requesting I go out for milk and cereal to top off that fancy luau dinner she did not eat. Gotta run.