A couple of teenage boys shoot hoops at the park down the street. Younger kids brave the bumpy road on scooters and skateboards, merrily calling to each other.

At the mall entrance, a couple herds shorts-clad children past the Cinnabon counter and the tantalizing aroma of baking buns into the air-conditioned interior where hundreds of people mill among the stores and kiosks. Some shop, some ramble aimlessly from one display window to the next, others tuck into cheeseburgers or nibble soft pretzels.

It's a Friday, when state workers are put on leave, a twice-a-month unwelcome holiday for teachers, engineers, tax clerks, accountants, inspectors, blue- and white-collar supervisors, child support enforcement officials, custodians and conservation officers, et al.

School yards are deserted. H-1 traffic is so light getting to the airport is a breeze; Downtown diners stand vacant. Metered parking is amply available; government services not.

This is what state leaders have chosen to do to save money in Hawaii, shutting the doors, rolling up the sidewalks, turning out the lights.

It's the only way, say the bosses—legislators and the governor. As tourism and other commerce in Hawaii totter through a slumped economy, it is the easiest way, they say, to stay within budget constraints.

Not so easy for employees who are trying to make do with smaller paychecks.

Not so much for retailers whose sale revenues have dropped as consumers spend less. Not so much for entertainment businesses, restaurants and lunch wagons, car dealerships, the construction industry. Not so easy.

Just a few years ago, the bosses held public education as their most sacred of cows. There was no shortage of pompous speechifying about their duty and commitment to children, about how the younger generation's future depended on learning and knowledge. Teachers were held in high regard, repairing school buildings was top priority, technologically outfitted facilities were vital.

But when push came to shove, the bosses chose to cut spending via carpet bombing. Instead of careful surgical incisions, cuts were largely uniform, the illogical argument being that all should suffer equally.

So through this academic year and next, for a total of 34 days, there have and will be no more pencils, no more books.

There are and will be, however, lots of dirty looks—from the U.S. Department of Education that assessed furloughing educators as “;mind-boggling,”; to investors when considering Hawaii for possible ventures and businesses here looking out for future employees, and most of all, from parents.

The stalemate over education funding has persisted for nearly four months.

The bosses, teachers and their union have an obligation to fulfill. It's time they put their money where their mouths are.

While 15 states and the District of Columbia are competing in the “;Race to the Top”; for federal funding, Hawaii is slogging toward last place. And all the while, the bosses worry we have an image problem. Please.