Bottles I've Owned

When I was a bachelor, I sometimes found myself without someone to celebrate an occasion. Not so tough, that. I've had my share of alone holidays, but when you live in your home town, you're never really alone, especially when you're down with being with your family (which every man should be, by the way). But for meaningful little things, like your first not guilty jury verdict or the day you come home with Steely Dan's first new music after a 20 year recording hiatus, it's nice to have something to mark such an occasion.

I probably bought this bottle for just such a reason, although I don't remember now what it might have been. I probably opened it alone as well. Before I got married, I tended to accumulate these bottles and I have a small platoon of them in different brands and spirits now, left over from that time, emptied to different levels. I cared for them like treasured toys that would never find the Goodwill bin. They moved with me to homes bought and sold.

Mostly for no reason, I still open them and pour some into the appropriate drinking vessel. This bottle is Oban, one of many a single malt whisky I've acquired and enjoyed. A pally I cocktail with mentions the brand here and it is one of my favorites. It gets poured into a heavy rocks glass from a gal I fancy. I won't try to describe it, as my palate is not so refined. They all taste like a caramel of one sort or another to me, which is to say they all taste wonderful. When it runs out - and that may or may not be soon - I am certain to look for another of the same.

A Coupla Bars

I'm starting to feel somewhat human again as this whole divorce thing winds down. I don't recommend it and it wasn't my idea, but there it is.

Not to steal a pal's thunder over at The Epic, where he occasionally will post Fuzzy Photos From Great Bars but ...

Recently screwing up the nerve to go back out with friends, I hit two of my favorite bars in Honolulu. The first is in Chinatown. The neighborhood has evidently experienced a renaissance in the years I was OnceABachelor and all but absent from the rosters of the bar-hopping. Wonderful martini bars and intriguing lounges have replaced the sailors' dives and pool halls of my underage. There are about a dozen great joints to go tie one on in Chinatown, which all manage to avoid the "nightclub" feel that poorly-executed spots have.

The Dragon Upstairs is a former 2nd floor tattoo parlor. It boasts nightly acoustic jazz of surprisingly authentic quality. If you're gonna drink in Chinatown, it might as well be in a room with red walls, a mural of a giant serpent -- held over from it's inking days -- guarding the entry, and oversize voodoo masks glaring at you.

Across town you will find a rotating restaurant called the Top of Waikiki. I would give their dinner menu a fair-to-middling review if I were so inclined, but their bar -- which rotates around its central pillar of premium liquors -- is something to behold, something akin to a Bond villain's lair. A Sean Connery Bond villain's lair.

A Sean Connery Bond villain's lair complete with pictogram proclaiming "The World is Not Enough". Which is NOT the attitude to take when going through a divorce.

With All of Ireland Watching

With a tip of the cap to him, do ye think the World's Most Interesting Man ever fought a giant octopus?

Christmas at the Lodge

Once in a great while the OnceABachelor must drop his offspring with the Grandparents and make a brief escape. With the Christmas season starting, my beautiful wife and I did just that, with a trip to our favorite "resort" hotel: the Lodge at Koele, on the Island of Lanai. My law partner and his wife (both of whom were my closest high school classmates) came along for the good times. It was certainly a quick vacation worthy of the Epic Life we should all try to lead.

The Lodge was where my bride and I had our honeymoon, and it is where my law firm holds its annual retreat with the wives. This Christmas marks the first time I've come back For No Good Reason. We flew in on a small Cessna Caravan in which the two of us were the only passengers, and on the way to Lanai I got a view of Honolulu you rarely ever get on the big jetliners. Contrast the cityscape with the cliffs of Lanai, and you get an idea of what the latter island is all about.

We arrived to find the hotel bedecked in Christmas ornaments, trees, and holly. The only thing missing, of course, was the snow, but the brisk highland air would do. Our room, as always, was cozy but far from small, with a view of the pond and immense banyan trees.

The Lodge is hardly a big resort hotel. Never crowded, it is small enough that its staff know you by name, even before you arrive. The illusion is similar to a ride up in the First Class cabin, where you are given personalized attention. This, combined with the authentic hunting lodge ambiance, make Koele my favorite hoteling experience. The Lodge is a very masculine place, all wood and leather and stone, boasting artifacts ranging from Polynesian to Asian and African.
Aside from the Lodge's great hall and two dining rooms, there are four other rooms of importance. The first is a semi-octagonal game room equipped with billiards, shuffleboard table, chess and backgammon tables. Next is a library, another octagon, with several conversational areas. There is a music room with a grand piano. These rooms all have stone fireplaces that are useful since upcountry Lanai's nighttime temperature often dips into the fifties.
And of course, the Lodge has a small, well stocked bar with excellent wait staff, all of whom, again, know your name. It is quiet and the other guests, all feeling that they are in on the same juicy secret that you are in on, are always friendly. It is a whispering kind of bar, but it is so inviting that we've been known to turn whole afternoons to haziness in there. My libation of choice for the weekend was the Lodge's special Mai Tai. Not always a fan of tart sweet cocktails, this one I felt was appropriate for the Pineapple Isle.

And lest you think the weekend was all about the indoors, the Lodge has a spectacular grounds, too, including a large koi stocked pond, a greenhouse, bamboo forest, an occasional flock of wild turkey (which seemed abundant this year), a 9 hole putting course (not to mention a world class golf course I've never seen (I'm not a golfer, but I'm told it's called the Experience), three croquet pitches and a huge bowling lawn. My wife indulged me a cigar under the eaves of its church (what other hotel has an active Congregational church on its own grounds?). We taught our wives how to shoot shotguns at a nearby sporting clays course. Turns out we married natural born killers. The only thing we didn't do was our traditional midnight cocktail raids to the hot tubs (our numbers were meek).

I really wanted to sing the praises of the Lodge and I feel I have failed to do that sufficiently. All I have done is summarize it. How should I put it. It is a place we truly love. In writing this, I realize that what I love about this place, besides the memories we make, are the spaces it gives us to occupy. It's not a hotel you pass through. It's one you inhabit.

Merry Christmas to all. May you be with your loved ones occupying places close to your heart.

*Click on the painting at the top to visit the website of Lanai artist Mike Carroll, who painted this image of the Lodge.

King Kamehameha Club

We've spent a princely sum on my son's swimming lessons these past three years, and he's only now feeling comfortable in the water. Money well spent, though. Proof? Here's a cool video of my son doing the armed side-stroke in the pool of the fictional King Kamehameha Club, the same club that retired Navy Seal turned P.I. Thomas Magnum belonged to.


When I was in high school, Magnum fever was everywhere in Honolulu. Their studio was a few blocks from my home in Diamond Head, Tom Selleck lived even closer, and around town we would frequently see the film trucks, T.C.'s helicopter, and occasionally, the red Ferrari 308, sometimes laden with camera scaffolding. Larry Manetti ("Rick") rented videos at the same store I did and Larry Hillerman ("Higgins") lived in a friend's condo. Good times.

We didn't join the "King Kam", as Magnum called it, because he was a member, though. We joined so my son would have a readily accessible pool for his use, with a large sunken bar not five steps away from which dear old dad could keep an eagle eye. They serve everything from Guinness and Sam Adams to above-average trop cocktails (word to the wise: avoid the martini, it ain't that kind of place) and local-style finger food (sashimi, garlic steaks). You can go from cannonballs with your kid to mai tais with the mates as the sun sets and the waves lap at the sea wall nearby.

Life is good when you're a OnceABachelor who belongs to a private club on the beach and a son who can swim laden with weapons.