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MAUI, WAUI! A TECHNICOLOR DREAM COME TRUE.

8/6/2012

 
I wish I could dream in color. Everything is so black and white in my dreams, even my nightmares; falling into black holes, running down dark streets getting nowhere with mad men lurking in the shadows cast by bright, white street lights.  
 
Which is why I was so pleasantly surprised during one recent foray into fantasy when every shade of blue stretched as far as the eye could see; where white sand welcomed the wave’s insistent chatter with timeless patience; where my red beach umbrella graciously kept the sun at bay as a gentle breeze swept the hair from my face; where the palm trees whispered sweet nothings in my ear.  
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Time stretches to infinity along the shores of Maui.
“I love your hair with all the curls.”

My eyelids fluttered as I struggled to bring my husband’s face into focus.  Jim leaned closer, nibbled at my ear, and then handed me a cold drink.  I broke through the surface of my daydream as condensation from the aluminum can dripped one cold reminder after another; this stretch of beach, this exquisite moment, in all its riveting Technicolor, wasn’t a dream. I was living the dream, in Maui, in love with my husband and my good fortune. 
  
Maui! Waui! No wonder they all wear sandals here.  This Valley Isle will knock your socks off.  It certainly put me over the top (especially when it comes to embellishing the rudiments of my dreams).  
 
I did look and feel like a new person within days of our arrival.
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I refuse to show you the before picture.
My hair returned to its untamed state, frizz on top of curls as the warmth and humidity ran sticky fingers through my limp tresses, magically releasing all the tension of life once lived on the straight and narrow.

The crease along the bridge of my nose began to melt away as time leisurely unraveled like a cat stretching languorously rather than a dog chasing its tail.  The creases around my mouth and eyes were proving considerably more stubborn, but hell, who was I to split more hairs.  
   
I was prone to giggles too, my joy with the sights and sounds and smells of paradise too much to contain. 
  
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Just another day in paradise.
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It's not difficult to make a splash on the shores of Maui.
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I'd almost take flowers over candy when they're Maui's exquisite plumeria rubra.
Even the Hawaiian language caused unexpected giggling on my part.  My favorite Hawaiian word (after aloha, of course, although the word lei has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say) was humuhumunukunukuapua’a, Hawaii’s state fish.  How can you not giggle as you roll that whale of a word off your tongue?  Go ahead, give it a try.  I’ll wait.   . . . . 

Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (now that I know the secret to the Hawaiian language, I’m addicted to this beautiful word) has more letters than the Hawaiian alphabet (5 vowels and 7 consonants is all Hawaiians need to recreate the blissful sounds of paradise).  Like everything in paradise, it’s all about easy and breezy.  

If you look closely, this common trigger fish’s fancy claim to fame is actually very melodic, made up of the syllables humu-humu-nuku-nuku-a-pu-a-a.  Phonetically, it’s pronounced hoomoo-hoomoo-nookoo-nookoo-ah-poo-ah-ah.  Don’t you think those last few syllables alone are a blatant invitation to giggle?  Okay, maybe you had to be there.  
  
And to think all these years the word antidisestablishmentarianism was up there at the top of my list.  It’s so black and white!  No rhythm! No style! No color!

Truth be told, I was giddy with delight at the prospect of seeing . . .

. . . the sun set with a palm tree in the foreground rather than a Midwestern cornfield;
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These colors don't even exist back home in the Midwest.
. . . Maui’s version of a ‘Bridge Over Troubled Waters’; 
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Before entering the pool area, all swimmers must shower.
. . .  all the hunks hanging out at the beach,
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This hunk was up early doing his yoga on the beach.
 and under water;
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This hunk overdid the calisthenics and required oxygen for a full recovery.
. . . the latest fashions in swimwear;
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I'm hoping when I get some color I'll look this good too.
. . . snowflakes that don’t melt
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This King Protea snowflake would pack a punch inside a snowball.
and birds that don’t fly;
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What the birds in paradise lack by way of wings they make up for with colorful feathers.
And Jim was especially tickled to catch glimpses of the girl he'd married 15 years ago (with 15 extra pounds too; more of me to love). 
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I was prone to giggling throughout our entire Maui visit.
I was simply tickled to be living the dream in Technicolor with the man of my dreams!  

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