Well, another year gone and no progress on having the county or state government do something to prevent more gates from going up in Hawaii, like the one above in Kailua... which happens to be at the semi-private end where President Obama and his family stay during their Christmas vacations here. I voted for him and believe he's done a pretty good job, considering the mess he inherited from Bush. But it bothers me they chose that location, because there are no public rights of way for over a half-mile on that stretch of beach -- which makes it easy for the Secret Service to keep everyone else out. Heck, the people who live on those streets have been doing the same thing for years!
Anyhow, below is a little Christmas story I wrote awhile back that has nothing to do with beach access, but presents a different way of looking at "the gift of nothing." For instance, we haven't had another gate put up in Kailua since the Grinches on L'Orange Place erected their ugly green monstrosity, which ignited the beach access movement in Hawaii. So maybe that's good news.
I originally published this last year on my
Squashed Gecko blog, which primarily deals with my struggles to make it as a screenwriter in the TV and movie biz...
My Obama Christmas Story for Kids
For my own amusement, over the years I’ve written little
hand-made books for my nieces. Sasha and Ana were about the same ages
as President Obama’s daughters, Malia Ann and Sasha, when I began the
Uncle Monkey series of Christmas stories. It was also a form of therapy
to deal with disappointment and frustration that my screenwriting
career wasn’t going as planned.
In the books, Uncle Monkey is a grumpy, cynical chimpanzee writer of
animal-centered tales that mirror current events in the human world.
When President Obama and his family came to stay in Kailua — where I
live — after the historic 2008 elections, the prolific primate was
inspired to write “Empty Boxes,” which seems even more apropos this
holiday season. Here is a shortened version, minus the art work…
PROLOGUE
“Can you tell us a Christmas story?” little Ana asked.
The chimp scratched his chin and nodded. “Hmm,” he hmmm’d. “Yes, I
can, as President Obama would say. Actually, he would say, ‘Well, um,
yes’… except it’s a sad tale that will leave you weeping with joy or
laughing in sorrow. It’s about a character named Sandy Claws.”
“You mean Santa Claus, don’t you?” interrupted Sasha.
“No, Sandy Claws was a crab who lived in the ocean. But he liked to
hang out on the beach too, where he would scavenge for odds and eggs –”
“You mean odds and ENDS,” Ana said.
“No, eggs — fish eggs and bird eggs, which he liked to eat for
breakfast. Now stop trying to tell me what I mean and listen, or I will
not continue!” Uncle Monkey snapped. In truth, he was cranky because he
had a beginning for his fable about human greed, but he was still
searching for a satisfying ending. He often told himself, It will all
work out in the end. Yet all the troubles in the world never seemed to
end! So how could things ever work out? This thought made him sad and
depressed.
“Well,” he said, sounding a bit like the President. “I did, um, say
it was a sad story… and… look, these are troubled times with enormous
challenges facing crabs and sea life due to global warming –”
“AHEM, ” Ana interjected. “We want to hear a Christmas story, not a political speech!”
“Oh, okay,” sighed the grizzled old chimp. “Here is
The Fishy Tails of Sandy Claws, The Crabby Crab of Christmas Beach, which was rejected by all the fish book publishers.”
“Did you try to sell it as a movie or TV show?” asked Sasha.
Uncle Monkey nodded yes. “My agent thought it would be perfect for
Animal Planet Shell-o-vision, but they felt it was too depressing for
kids. They thought Sandy Claws acted greedy and shelfish.”
“You mean selfish?” said Ana.
“No — shellfish! Ever since ‘Finding Nemo’ became a big hit, they
only want fish stories. Not crab fables or shrimp tails. They’re
prejudiced against shellfish. But I will tell you the story and you can
judge for yourself if Sandy Claws was selfish.”
“I thought you said he
was a shellfish,” Sasha noted.
“Yes, he is a shellfish. But I meant selfish this time… oh, never mind. Just read the darn story, okay?” he grumbled.
EMPTY BOXES by Uncle Monkey
Once upon a beach in Hawaii, there lived a cranky old crab who
constantly complained about the litter and mess people left behind or
threw in the ocean. It made him so mad that fish and “honu” (Hawaiian
sea turtles) would ask if he had sand in his underpants, which might be
irritating him. But since none of them wore underwear, this only made
the crab even crabbier.
Christmas was the worst time of all for him. Sea birds and monk seals
would mock the crab for the way he walked sideways. When he angrily
raised his claws and snapped them at the birds, they laughed at him.
“Ha! You couldn’t snip your way out of a wet paper bag with those weak
little claws of yours,” taunted the birds.
Turning red with embarrassment, the crab retreated to his hole in the
sand. Sandy Claws didn’t have many friends. Like many crabs, he was
shy and at parties would not come out of his shell. And his habit of
eating dead fish he found on the beach was a turn-off for live fish he
wished to befriend.
The reason he disliked Christmas so much was that more humans would
flock to his beach for the holidays, and many would toss their flower
leis into the water or throw wrapping paper from their gifts on the
sand. Sandy Claws had to pick up all the bows and ribbons these careless
people threw out. But he was jealous too because no one ever gave him
any gifts. All he ever got was the empty boxes people left behind.
Then one Christmas Eve, something remarkable happened. He noticed
there were more humans than usual with cameras, all stopping and
staring at a particular house near his hole in the sand. There were men
in long pants, wearing dark sunglasses, talking into radios while
standing around the house. Obviously a Very Important Person was
visiting. But who could it be?
“Pssst… wanna know who it is? Do ya?” whispered a little birdie. “It’s the Obama!”
“What’s an Obama?” asked the crab.
“I dunno, but everyone is wearing shirts or carrying signs that say something about Obama,” the birdie replied.
“Well, whoever or whatever this Obama is, I hope he does something to clean up the ocean and beaches,” the cynical crab said.
As more people came and left, Sandy Claws saw that some were leaving
gift-wrapped packages next to a palm tree by the Obama house. What
could be in those boxes, and who were they for? “Maybe they’re for me!”
thought the crab. Oh, he knew they were not meant for him, but he
could not resist the temptation to pretend that these presents had his
name on them.
And when he sneaked closer to the packages, what did his beady stalk
eyes see, but the name Santa Claus on some labels. “Close enough,” said
Sandy Claws as he began to drag the boxes back to his hole. Using his
claws and smaller pincers, he carefully removed the ribbons and
unwrapped each package. Then he took out the gifts and replaced them
with wilted, soggy flower leis he found on the beach or other plastic
junk he plucked out of the ocean. Some of the boxes he re-wrapped
contained nothing at all except a little sand. After he put the bows and
ribbons back on, he placed the packages next to the palm tree where
they were originally left.
Sandy Claws looked at all the gifts he had taken: candy, cookies,
Hawaiian goodies and also things for little girls such as dolls and
toys. So it was clear this Obama had children. And Sandy Claws disliked
children because they were always chasing after crabs like him or
poking sticks into their holes in the sand.
“Ha! I’m glad Obama and his daughters will be getting trash and empty
boxes for Christmas,” the crab muttered to himself. “Besides, why are
people giving them more useless stuff when they obviously have so much
already?” Which made Sandy stop to think about the gifts piled up
around his humble hole. To fit in all the pilfered presents, he had to
dig out more space. It was exhausting work to make room for things he
didn’t really need.
Despite his constant grumbling, the cranky crab realized he didn’t
have it so bad after all. He had eight good legs, plenty of garbage to
eat, plus a beautiful beach he called home. “I should share my bounty
with the honu, fish and dolphins. They’ll see that I may be a shellfish,
but I am certainly not selfish!”
That evening, the men in long pants with the dark sunglasses (which
they wore at night to make themselves look more mysterious) picked up
the “re-gifted” packages and brought them into the big Obama house.
Meanwhile, Sandy Claws put all his pilfered presents into a large mesh
bag he had swiped from a kayak, and dragged it into the sea to deliver
his gifts to less fortunate sea life.
“Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas to all my ocean friends,” he called out.
Soon he was surrounded by curious dolphins, fish and honu. Even a couple
of sharks cruised by to investigate what was happening. He opened the
mesh bag and began to give presents to the smallest and youngest
creatures. Unfortunately, all the candy and cookies had dissolved into a
messy mixture.
“
Nice,” snickered a sarcastic starfish. “Some gift!”
Undeterred, Sandy Claws gave a silver necklace with a silver flower
charm on it it to a baby parrotfish…. who ate it by mistake. “That’s
just great,” the angry parent parrotfish squawked. “Why don’t you just
hand out sharp hooks to all the baby fish, huh?!”
“Sorry about that,” the crab said. “How about a doll then for your
other baby fish?” However, as he pulled the cheaply-made doll from the
mesh bag, his claw severed the plastic head. The monk seals and dolphins
began to play an underwater version of soccer with the doll head.
Sandy looked at the label on the doll’s body: MADE IN CHINA. “Tsk-tsk,”
sighed an old honu. “That doll was probably made by underage kids who
are forced to work for slave wages!”
Sandy Claws was very sad. He tried to do a good thing by sharing his
gifts. But all he got in return was scorn and scoldings. This was his
worst Christmas ever. As he turned sideways to crabwalk away, he heard a
small soft voice call to him from the ocean floor… “Hey, Sandy,” the
tiny starfish said.
“Yes?” he replied hopefully.
“YOU’RE NOT GONNA LEAVE ALL THIS CRAP HERE, ARE YOU?” yelled the
angry starfish. The gifts that looked so nice and new when he first
unwrapped them were just more useless junk and garbage — because, as
the dolphins would say, they had no useful porpoise for these sea
creatures.
*******
On Christmas morning, Sandy Claws woke up and decided he would return
to being crabby since being generous did not work out very well for
him. But as he walked home, over the sound of gentle waves breaking on
the shoreline, he heard two young girls giggling with delight. It was
coming from the big Obama house. “Oh, no! Those girls will be so
disappointed when they open their presents and see they got garbage, or
worse — nothing at all!” he blurted out to the little birdie pecking
around in the sand next to his hole.
“Whatcha gonna do, Sandy? It’s too late to fix things now that you
ruined their gifts… unless — nah, it’s too crazy,” the birdie said, his
voice trailing off.
“What? Tell me!” the crab implored.
“You could make up for it by offering yourself as a gift to the Obama,” chirped the bird.
“Huh? You mean…” said Sandy, slowly getting the bird’s drift.
“Yeah. Crab salad. Self-sacrifice is what Christmas is all about, right?” the birdie noted.
“Maybe they don’t like crab meat though. In which case, it would be a
wasted sacrifice,” said Sandy.
Depressed and dejected, the forlorn
crab looked up and saw the entire Obama family was gathered outside in
front of the house with their presents. He quickly scooted over the
sand and rocks to get a closer look at the famous family. There was the
President, his wife and two young daughters, all beaming with
anticipation.
The father handed wrapped presents to his wife and girls. “These
gifts are from the good people of Hawaii. I wonder what they gave us!
Let’s open them, and, um… let’s see, shall we?” While he and Michelle
carefully opened their packages, Malia and Sasha gleefully ripped open
their gift boxes.
“Hey! There’s nothing in my package,” whined the older daughter.
“Mine is empty too,” frowned the younger sister.
The wife held up a wilted flower lei that was still dripping sea
water. “It smells like wet dog,” she sniffed. The father held up his
empty box. A few grains of sand and pieces of plastic junk fell out. He
smiled though and took the wilted lei from his wife. Then he put it
around his neck.
“Dad, are you crazy?” asked the younger daughter.
“I think the people who gave us these empty boxes are the ones who
are crazy,” said the older sister. “Not just crazy, but mean too. Why
would anyone wrap up boxes of nothing!”
Their father nodded thoughtfully, paused for a second as he looked
out at the beautiful blue ocean and white sandy beach. “Well, girls…
um… maybe someone less fortunate than us needed what was in those
boxes, or wanted those things because they lack, um, something. So they
took the things inside the boxes… and, um… they forgot that they could
not take what the gift-givers intended to share with you — with our
family. And that is the gift of love. What I see in this empty box is
Hope and Love.”
Sandy Claws’ eyes welled up with tears. But as he tried to wipe them
with his big claw, he nearly cut his eye stalk off. He sniffled and
turned to the little birdie. “The Obama understands the true meaning of
Christmas. Sometimes the best gift is… nothing!”
Then they heard loud laughter — it was the father and mother, who
were consoling the crying girls. “Nah! Just kidding. Your mother and I
got you real presents that are inside. You think we’d give you nothing
for Christmas?” the father chuckled. The sisters wiped their tears off
and smiled. Their father sniffed the soggy lei and made a face. “I bet
some crabby old McCain-Palin supporters left us those packages. At
least we can be thankful it wasn’t a bomb.”
So Sandy Claws was right after all. Sometimes an empty box
is the best gift.
THE END
*********
Ana and Sasha looked at each other. “That’s a terrible Christmas
story, Uncle Monkey!” said Sasha. Ana agreed: “Nobody would give a bomb
for a Christmas present!”
“Ah, but they could. That’s the point of my story. Things can always
be worse than they are,” the chimp replied. “So, a box full of nothing
can be better than a box that has useless stuff in it… or worse, BAD
things in it.”
Mele Kalikimaka! May all your empty boxes be filled with good memories and room for better things to come.
