Chillax

By Janet Miller

I used to be quite obsessed with time.  Time is money.  Time is valuable.  Time waits for no man.  Time marches on.  Being on time was of utmost importance, much greater than just a social nicety.  A person who walked in late for a scheduled event was glared at, ostracized, received at least a firm tsk-tsk, and got the worst seat in the building.

I got that attitude knocked out of me relatively quickly after moving to Kaua’i.  I now know that one of the best things about living in Hawaii is that one is never late for anything.

Church service, which is printed in the bulletin as starting at 10 a.m., will start when each member of the worship team has talked story with everyone who mistakenly arrived before 10:15.

Town hall meetings scheduled for 7 p.m. rarely come to order before the acceptable last minute adjustments of the microphones, which take a minimum of 10 minutes.

The first time we went to see a movie, my husband and I thought we were in the wrong theater. There was no one in the place 30 minutes before the posted start time.  In Chicago, we were conditioned to get in our selected seat by at least 20 minutes before the show time or we ended up sitting in the neck cracking front row.  Not on Kaua’i… eight minutes after the appointed movie start time, people are just coming down the aisle for a vast selection of empty seats. Maybe nine minutes later the lights start to dim.  Don’t even think about seeing any of the previews, because you’ll be too busy getting up out of your seat to allow your fellow moviegoers into the seats in your row.

When I submitted my building plans for my house to the inspector’s office, I thought I was told that the approval process takes about three weeks.  At the end of four weeks I called the county planner’s office to find out the status of my plans.  He replied, “Oh, yeah, day right dare on my desk.”  I asked if they were approved. He said, “Nooooooo I gonna look at dem maybe next week.”  Oh.  Now I understand that three weeks in Kaua’i is just like the biblical description of time;

“For God, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is as a day.” or sumpthin’ like that.

As I’ve often said, “Respect the locals”. The locals have the right idea.  Hang loose.  Chillax and take life a little easier.

So now, when I make lunch plans with anyone for noon, I know that at 11:59 I still have time to polish my nails, put in a load of laundry and trim the hedges before starting my car.