Colon Blow? It sounds delicious.

"We were there first. Just like Menudo, we retired the old guard gracefully and brought up the new blood" says lead singer of the Ala Moana Crooners, Tommy "Big Kahuna" Lowenstien. "Man, we were big. Don Ho big."

Throughout the fifties, sixties and seventies, the Ala Moana Crooners sang songs of the isle for the tourists and residents of Oahu. Lowenstien was the lead in the sixties version of the band. "We were doing the little clubs in the keys, man. That's Waikiki to the uninitiated. Lots of fans. Followed us around. The Hawaii 50 hit. Everyone wanted us. Merv Griffin flew us to LA for a taping. We stayed at a Best Western. Man that was great."

The group tried to maintain an aura of innocence but the seventies version of the group ran in to trouble. They were arrested at Ohana Fest violating Honolulu's open container law. the drummer, Bryon "Snares" Baxter had an open can of Primo Beer on stage without the requisite brown bag. He was fined and released.

That incident shattered the band. The Ala Moana Crooners broke up and announced they would not seek replacement musicians for the first time since 1954. Fans were devastated. Over night, there was a run on the band's albums. Tower Records reported that someone came in and bought both records.

But there would be one more song for the Ala Moana Crooners. A local fan discovered the fact that all twelve of the Crooners were still alive. He financed one last appearance with all the members performing. The Crooners were excited but doubtful. Questioned were raised: Would the older members still have the strength? Could the younger ones put their larcenous past behind them and behave for an evening? Could they find the park where Franky "The Chops" sleeps every night?

The answers were "kind of", "Yeah" and "the grassy area on Sand Island". And so, on a beautiful Hawaiian evening, the group performed one last time for a standing room only crowd at the Neil Blasdell Arena in Conference Room 14.

As the twelve began singing, they transported their fans back to a quieter Hawaii. A time before cut rate tourists and Japanese roamed free and wild across their land. When the war in Vietnam meant money in the coffers as soldiers came back for two weeks' R&R. A time when Hawaii was unique - an island removed from the rest of the world.

No one wanted the concert to end. But it did. The Crooners ended with their signature song: "Sweet Hawaiian Sundown" and quietly slipped out the side door. Several crooners rushed in to the night. The last bus to Waipahu was coming soon and they didn't want to miss it. Soon only Franky "The Chops" remained. He said he could sleep under the trees in Fort DeRussey tonight. And he did.

And so we close the chapter we titled "Local Hawaiian Groups that didn't Suck that Much". The Ala Moana Crooners are scattered now. Some have gone on to sitting on the beach and stealing watches from tourists who bury them in the sand while they swim and others have become WalMart greeters. One stands outside a Hotel Street strip bar and directs drunken Navy guys in to a two drink minimum dive where a stripper appears for three songs and vanishes for 45 minutes while the tea girls make the rounds. Another cleans up the Pearl Ridge Mall after closing.

There were and will always be, a part of Hawaii.

Flower for Algernon - Book 2

They said they could help me. Just a simple operation. I wasn't sure at first. But there had been trouble. The cops said the judge would go easy in me if I agreed. The Public Defender just said "Sign the papers or you'll be going to Dwight for life."

The day of the operation, I was nervous. A nurse came in and said "Poor Child, they are going to do a number on you." I always thought nurses were supposed to be nice but I guess they can carry a grudge if you run over their kid.

I was given a shot and I went to sleep. Before I passed out, I heard the doctor say "Is this the biatch? I'm not even going wash my hands." Then everything went dark.

I awoke in to a new world. I didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. I really felt like I wanted to contribute. But of course, they were skeptical: they always remember the one bus load of passengers you murdered and not the hundreds that you didn't. But I showed them. I started working for a church in Chicago. Feeding the homeless. Helping the drug addicts. I made every followup appointment at the hospital. The doctor who operated on me even apologized for leaving all those sponges in my skull.

And for a while, it seemed I belonged, I contributed and I gave, gave and gave. Then, something happened. I was feeding the homeless in a soup kitchen and I spit in the soup. No one saw me. No one noticed anything about the soup. It was mostly water and salt anyways. But I realized that I had wanted to spit in that soup. I began to feel myself changing.

But I didn't say anything. I kept making my appointments with the doctor, but I guess he saw I was changing back too. He didn't say anything. This was his research. If he wanted to be a big shot, it had to succeed. He told me to slow down. Stop spreading myself so thin. Take a break.

That didn't help. I don't know why I did it. There was a cinder block and there was an overpass on the Edens Expressway. It just seemed the two were meant to be. Man, that block went right through the windshield of that gasoline tanker. The crash was stupendous and that fire with all those cars in it burned throughout the night. You could hear the screams of the dying over the flames.

Well, the doctor knew I did it even though they blamed the accident on a drunken truck driver. He said "We have one last chance. An opportunity to redeem ourselves - both of us. Just sign these papers." And I did.

I wound up in the operating room again. Just me, the doctor and a nurse that he could trust. A shot in the arm and I slipped off again. I know I was out, but I swear I heard the drilling.

I woke up on the street. The world was cold and I felt alone. But this time, I didn't want to hurt anyone. I also didn't want to help anyone either. This feeling was so different from the way I felt before. I just started out walking, stumbling down the street. Heading no where. "This was it." I thought to myself. My life would be devoid of feelings forever. There was only one thought going through my mind:

The lobotomy took my happy away.

No one else saw this?

Juniper Jupiter: /What?
//WHAT!!??

Wow. Just...wow. Good thing I wasn't drinking anything.

Thanks to Ranger Joe's animation, I can leave this thread satisfied...