TWO of the most notable things about the Big Island are young faces and old friendships. I was reminded of both last weekend at the annual meeting of our Hilo football club. Old friendships
thrive in Hilo clubEach week, our eight members try to pick the winners of NFL games. We throw a quarter in the pot for each game we lose during the regular season and a little more during the playoffs.
At season's end, the accumulated losses finance our annual meeting -- a nice banquet at a Chinese restaurant. The member who loses the most money is elected club president and has the "honor" of bringing the wine.
We've been doing this for 28 years, although I had to drop out for a time while I was working in Washington, D.C.
The club was formed by four County Council staffers -- Elaine, Jane, Bob and Howard. Marvin from the Parks Department joined later. I was surprised when they invited me to join along with Hugh and Gene, my counterparts at the Advertiser and Hawaii Tribune-Herald. Reporters are not always regarded as the best company.
The reason they invited us has become apparent over the years: They needed a reliable source of free wine for the annual dinners.
Elaine, Jane and Bob have never been president, never had to bring the wine. Howard and Marvin have had the honor once each. That means Hugh, Gene and I have been the biggest losers -- and usually the second and third biggest losers, as well -- an incredible 26 of the 28 years. This year, Gene needed the first perfect week in the club's history to finish 75 cents better than Hugh.
How long ago was 28 years? Here's what was going on in our club's first years:
In football, the Rams were in Los Angeles and their Fearsome Foursome of Deacon Jones, Lamar Lundy, Merlin Olsen and Roosevelt Grier was terrorizing NFL quarterbacks. O.J. Simpson was setting rushing records instead of new standards for outrageous murders.
Franco Harris' "immaculate reception" got Pittsburgh its first playoff win ever, 13-7 over Oakland, and set the Steelers on a course that would lead to four Super Bowl championships.
In the real world, Richard Nixon made an historic trip to China and nobody had heard of Watergate. OPEC gave us gasoline lines.
The Beatles released their last album, "Let it Be." New microprocessors spawned the first TV-sized computers that would change the world. America's withdrawal from Vietnam was near, credit cards were still viewed with suspicion and HBO didn't exist.
Clint Eastwood's "Dirty Harry," the racy sitcom "All in the Family" and Bruce Lee's first hit, "Fists of Fury," made their debuts.
THESE are old friends -- literally. I'm forever astounded at how Hiloans just don't age. There's something about the place that keeps them young, looking the same year after year. Yet our leader Elaine is 69 and all members but me are at or very near retirement age.
They were actually surprised to learn that I'm not also of rocking-chair vintage. "You're only 50? Not!"
Thanks, guys. I spend all evening flattering your youthful good looks, then you refuse to believe I'm younger than you think I look.
The question comes up every year: "Between the airfare, the hotel and the cabs, it must cost you $250 to pay off $50 in betting debts. Why bother?"
That's easy. What's it worth to have such longtime friends in the finest little city on Earth? As the credit card commercial says, priceless.
David Shapiro is managing editor of the Star-Bulletin.
He can be reached by e-mail at editor@starbulletin.com.
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