Contrary to expectations, and the occasional content of this column, I will not be covering Sarah Palin’s autobio, Going Rogue. I guess my take on Entertainment Weekly’s headline “We’ve read Sarah Palin’s book (so you don’t have to)” would be “I haven’t read Sarah Palin’s book (so you’ll have to).”

Mind you, it has been interesting to hear that, Katie Couric aside, Palin’s harshest criticisms in the book have apparently been about her fellow Republicans, chiefly those she tangled with during the campaign. For me, Christopher Hitchens hit the nail on the head in Newsweek with his comment, “Sarah Palin appears to have no testable core conviction except the belief… that the end of days and the Second Coming will occur in her lifetime. This completes the already strong case for allowing her to pass the rest of her natural life span as a private citizen.”
I did catch a snippet of Palin fielding Oprah Winfrey’s puffball questions on TV. But even being subjected to that shrill, whiny voice wasn’t enough to bring me too far down that day. My interest wasn’t in the 49th state, but rather the 50th, Hawaii, where I was bustling about my hotel room getting ready to go out for the evening while Sarah and Oprah droned on.

Since the state’s agricultural industries (pineapple, sugar, coffee) moved to cheaper regions, Hawaii’s biggest industry is tourism, which has unfortunately kept them in a state of constant flux this last decade. Right after 9/11, tourism plummeted, and they’re suffering again this year due to the economy.

You might have noticed folks from Hawaii’s official tourist board staging all kinds of events in Seattle in October (even coffee cup sleeves on local ferries had the “Go Hawaii” logo), begging us to fly over and take advantage of all the cheap deals.

You don’t really have to twist my arm on that score. And I’m still so addled by the sun I can’t bear to shake the sand out of my shoes yet. Western Washington might be, as my relative are prone to say, “God’s Country” (take that, Alaska!), but I never get as relaxed as I do when I’m in Hawaii, where the weather forecasts usually read “Mon: Mostly sunny, scattered showers. Tues: Mostly sunny, scattered showers. Weds: Mostly sunny, scattered showers.” You get the idea. Those “showers” are usually brief by the way, and it’s always warm, even when it’s overcast. Ah, bliss.

Even nonstop flights are relatively cheap now (though my airline of choice remains Hawaiian, where you still get a free meal), and I camped out at the Aqua Continental Surf, spare in the Motel 6 fashion, $65/night, two blocks from the beach, and with a microwave and fridge, so I could heat up a frozen dinner and have a place to keep my six packs of Primo cooling (a Hawaiian beer sadly not yet available in this state).

Your best entertainment option is only as far away as the nearest ABC Store (the ultimate in quickie marts); inflatable rafts for $3 that they’ll inflate for an additional 60 cents. Then simply head to the beach and float around on the surf for a few hours. As a man swimming by me when I was so engaged called out, “It doesn’t get any better than this!”
Evenings were reserved for cocktails, and well, those aren’t cheap. At least if you want a decent cocktail with alcohol in it (which is, after all, the whole point of the exercise). The aptly-named Mai Tai Bar at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel is a particular favorite, where you can sit outside and watch the sun go down while sipping a libation (the Scratch Mai Tai is especially recommended). After a few nights of this, I no longer felt that urge to constantly check my email, or even keep up with current events (when I left, we still didn’t have a new mayor). This is what vacations are all about.
One of the most surreal moments during my trip was sitting in Queen Kapiolani Park, singing along with the Royal Hawaiian Band to “Mele Kalikimaka” (“…is the thing to say/on a bright, Hawaiian Christmas day…”). Yes, while the sun was shining, vendors were busily putting up holiday décor in the hopes of luring in as many buyers as possible.
I returned home to find holiday biz percolating here too. You’ll want to drop in at the Northwest Film Forum’s annual holiday bash Dec. 17 (the eggnog competition is not to be missed!).

There was also a copy of the latest reissue of A Christmas Gift For You from Phil Spector waiting for me. Truly one of the best Christmas records ever, with Darlene Love tackling “White Christmas,” the Ronettes’ take on “Frosty the Snowman,” the Crystals’ version of “Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer,” and other classics. Mark it down as your first holiday purchase! Aloha!