The Monkey King's Used Primate Emporium and Book Reviews

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Media Studies Center, �Media Studies Journal: 1968�

Started August 29 � Finished August 29, 2004; 184 pages. Posted 10 October 2004

This is part twelve of a 25-part story about Hawaii. The story begins here. Part five is located here. Part ten is here. Other parts you'll have to find yourself. So there.
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The boat ride we�re going on is a catamaran that leaves shore right down the street from where we�re staying. There are four companies that all operate from this area, so we check out all the places to get the most competitive rates. The tours all leave at the same time, follow the same route, and offer the same amenities, so we go for the cheapest one.

I�ve been on this trip twice before, so I think about the options. We can leave early, meaning really early, seven in the morning early. The only reason for doing this is that there are more dolphins out at this time. But there were plenty of dolphins out last time, when we left at a much more reasonable time of 12:30 in the afternoon.

Also, if you take the afternoon tour, you sail back under the sunset. Dolphins are cooler than sunsets. In fact, where they�ll dock the boat for the sunset is the same area where we can walk out on a breakwater pier and see it for free.

But it�s the time of departure that seals the deal. We pick the afternoon/sunset trip.

Knowing that The Girlfriend was weary of being surrounded by people, I purposely booked us on a Monday, knowing there would be fewer passengers. The last time I went on this trip, there were 45 other tourists along with us. I�d rather not deal with those kinds of numbers.

On the day of the trip we get ready to leave. The Girlfriend models her swimsuit again. She doesn�t wear it for long.

That suit was worth every penny in interest that I�ll be paying off for the next four years.

We walk into the office, and there are six other people waiting. That�s more like it. We�re supposed to leave soon, but nobody seems to be doing anything. Our numbers swell to nine. Finally, an employee comes out to say they�re waiting for one more group to arrive. I wonder why we�re not being offered discounts. Hell, we paid for a five and a half-hours trip, and the way it looks now, our trip is being cut to at least five, if they show up within the next five minutes. Eventually, two more people arrive.

I can�t believe we had to wait for that.

But we�re finally on the boat, and we�ve got plenty of room to move about. The boat pulls away from the pier, and we take residence on the trampoline at the front of the boat.

By trampoline, I mean they�ve taken two sheets of material, and fastened them over the middle of the boat. As we move along the waves, the boat shoots into the air, crashing down in a fit of ocean spray, and we fly with it, getting thoroughly soaked. It�s all fantastic fun.

But I�ve been on these tours before, and I know the routine. The first part is supposed to consist of moving at a medium speed away from shore, looking for schools of spinner dolphins, who approach the boat to get a free ride with the current of the boat cutting through the waves. Our captain, however, has cut a sharp right and is staying relatively close to the edge of the island. He�s not even looking for dolphins.

I look back at the fat old couple who delayed our trip. They�re sitting in the cabin area, waiting for food to be served, not even looking at the view.

Thanks, fuckers.

The crew for the catamaran is supposed to mingle with the guests, learning names and making chit-chat. One of the crew points at the side of a beautiful, untouched beach, and in a memorized drawl, starts to recite a speech I�ve heard twice before. �That beach, running the length of 7.5 miles, is one of the few areas on the island that hasn�t seen any development in 60 years. You know who owns it?�

�The military,� I say.

�The military,� she repeats.

�Yeah, I know. Hey, I was wondering, are we going to pass by Waimea Canyon?�

�We will not be passing Waimea Canyon. You want to know why?�

�Why?�

�Because Waimea Canyon is inland.�

Holy fuck! I�ve just been the victim of sarcasm! That�s my fucking job!

�Yeah, I know that. But if you hike the canyon, they have several points where you overlook the cliffs straight into the ocean. Are we passing that area?�

�Oh sure, we�ll pass that area. Sorry, normally we have 30 or more people on this tour. Since there�s so few of you, we�re probably going to sleepwalk through most of it.�

The Media Studies Journal that I�m reading talks a lot about crowd mentality. The more people that are around, the more likely others will get swept up in the excitement of it all. This is how riots start. It�s also why people may participate in things they may not have been inclined do join before.

Whoops.


Rating: Worth working in a used bookstore and getting for cheap. But it�s a periodical, so don�t hold your breath waiting for a copy.

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