Warp – Blessed by the Bard
It was many years (16, I think) before we went back to Hawaii, and I got to see where I was born. Same hospital as Obama. My parents pointed to 3 different places they lived. One, they remarked, they were surprised hadn’t been torn down. They lived there about 6 months. The math told me they had been skipping every other month of rent and moving when they got kicked out.
These are the snippets of stories about my birth:
Couple of broke kids from Texas. Mom hugely pregnant, 18, and working as a maid. Rich people in Honolulu keep lizards, to eat the roaches. She sometimes found dead lizards behind the furniture.
Dad dropped out of college when they moved, and was working as an encyclopedia salesman. Yes, door to door. I’ve seen my dad try to sell things. His barely repressed snarkiness and oozing sense of superiority don’t work in his favor. I can imagine he was not a lot more successful then.
But they were pretty young things in paradise. They frequented an all-you-can eat Swedish smorgasbord and drank blue Hawaiians.
The day I was born, they were moving. Mom was cleaning the tub when she went into labor. They walked the two blocks down to the main drag, and hailed a cab. When they told the driver, “Princess Kapiolani” he whipped his head around and looked at her. At the time, the hospital was strictly an obstetrics center. “Oh, no no! Not in my cab!” and he floored it.