Honolulu Lite

by Charles Memminger

Friday, September 11, 1998

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Getting a
(pan) handle
on opportunity

THERE'S a guy I pass by almost every day at an intersection who holds a cardboard sign asking for work or money. Despite myself, just the sight of him causes the same progression of reactions:

Pity. Poor guy. Standing out there for hours, sometimes in the rain, holding a cardboard sign. Down and out. Out and wet. Wet and cold.

Guilt. Passed by him again without sharing even a friendly wave or a couple of bucks.

Resentment. Who does he think he is? He's obviously not from Hawaii. Why do people think they can just jump a plane here and then expect the people of Hawaii to support them? Maybe someone should tell him that he obviously can't afford to live in the most expensive state in the union and should consider going home.

Forgiveness. Hey, at least the weather's nice here. If I had to be somewhere begging for a job, food or money, I'd pick Hawaii. Even the rain's warm.

Humor. For a panhandler, he's got some learning to do. Where he stands, no cars can possibly stop. Is he begging-challenged? He needs to be at one of those big, grassy shoulders where people have enough time to consider his plight and pull over safely.

Suspicion. I bet this guy makes a bundle. A thousand cars a day go by. If just half of them give him a buck, he's making more than I do. And he picks his own hours.

Analytical. What if I were in his slippers? Would I wear slippers? What if someone actually stopped and asked me do some yard work for them? Shouldn't I at least be wearing tennis shoes? Would I stand at that corner? Why not bring an umbrella? Wouldn't it make more sense to look at the classified want ads to find a job?

SO, I imagined what it would be like if I were out of a job tomorrow and had to go looking for an entry-level job. I went to the classifieds. I was shocked to see that there is no "Columnist Wanted" section.

So I started scanning the rest of the employment opportunities and began to understand what that guy on the corner is up against.

Out of all the ads in the paper, my search turned up these two employment possibilities for someone with my qualifications: newspaper delivery boy or exotic dancer.

I'd have to say that of the two choices, the exotic dancer position seems the best. I've done the newspaper-delivery thing. It's a young man's game. I'm not sure I could hoof it up and down the hills of Aiea Heights again and I doubt that they'd give a 44-year-old, entry-level newspaper delivery boy a 400-paper condominium route.

I like the exotic dancer classified ads because they each have no fewer than six dollar signs and 11 exclamation points. ($$$CASH TODAY!$!$!", "WILL TRAIN!!!" and "!!!NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY!!!$$$.)

You gotta love that enthusiasm. I suspect the newspapers would get a lot more people applying for those delivery spots if they threw more $$$$'s and !!!!'s into their ads. (!!!! Bust your hump! $$$ Lugging tons of newspapers!!!$$$ Up really big hills!!!$$$$)

There's no doubt that if I got a job as a nude dancer it would certainly be exotic. "Frightening" is another word that hops to mind. "Shocking," "alarming" and "cruel and unusual" serve as well.

I probably could single-handedly stamp out the lap dancing craze. "Stamp out" being the operative phrase.

So, I don't know, I guess the guy on the corner is doing the best he can to improve his life. Traffic is his friend. The world is his cubicle. And he gets to keep his clothes on. Next time I see him I'll have a new reaction: Envy.

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Charles Memminger, winner of
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
awards in 1994 and 1992, writes "Honolulu Lite"
Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Write to him at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin,
P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802
or send E-mail to charley@nomayo.com or
71224.113@compuserve.com.

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