P1 R&D/Hulk win tug-of-war After several weeks of overcast weather, the sun broke through the clouds, scurried bits of white fluff off to the west, and then sat comfortably in a light blue background, smiling warmly on the gathered throng at Laura beach. It was a motley crowd, if were there was one. No identifiable stereotype. Jerry Kramer was there in a van with his kids, not the usual business-like Jerry, but the stubble-bearded, faded jeans, over-wash tee-shirt kind of Kramer, an escapee from Milton, Mass. doing 15 years to live on the charge of falling in love with the Marshall Islands. He pulls the trigger on his tay-on beer, and surveys the crowd. “Really big,” he says in an easy way. And it is that. Hundreds of them. Secretary of Finance Al Fowler with this starched and scrubbed safari 4×4, Kejjo Bien’s Downtown Lunch Wagon with Lele and the girls pushing colas and munchies. A flock of young Nauruan chicks smiling and happy. Work cronies from PII, Tobolar, Lanai Bar, the power plant, Es Kap Bob, MCAA, R&D, and Captain Moses crew. All gather for the serious business of pulling a rope, creating a memory, enjoying each others company, and having a laugh. Elephantine, the large rope lay on the golden sand, marked in much the simple way we mark grave sites, just simple with ribbon. Here a coconut, there a coconut, cross that line with this piece of ribbon and your side loses. After a few short insistent toots on his whistle, Mike Musgrave manages to call the first tow teams to order and the First Annual Marshall Islands Tug of War gets underway. Stan Ryley and the R&D team eventually end up the champions for the day but the real champions are the guys behind the scenes, the guys who took the time to organize the affair, put their hearts into making fund, the guys who are little kids at heart.
P1 The Eagle has flown You ask, where does this f…… Nagel get off, pretending to know all these trades, now which includes fireworks displays? Well Joe, I feel the need to reveal myself only to you of course, knowing that only you will understand. I am the last of the truly great Renaissance men. I feel that in my former life I was serving patrons somewhere, some way. Not meant to be stable nor to be rich, or comfortable, I and my kind are here only to entertain, to be resources for those with no recourse, and to create both fiction, and reality with indiscernible borders. Yes, we are given to the ways of the braggadocio, and yes we are capable of great treachery to those who would abuse us, but as my contemporary in a former life Mr. Benvenuto Chillini once thought, we are loyal to wretched excess, faithful as cats, extremely verbose when plied with spirits, but we never leave a partner in a fight. True, the supreme court on earth and in heaven may find that we possess nothing of socially redeeming value within our works on earth, but they will be delighted with the content of our souls. —Nagel (P23: Tony Nagel Longtime Marshalls personality Tony Nagel died last week on the Big Island after a long bout with cancer. He originally came to Majuro on a hatch 30 years ago, then started a fledgling charter business a 32’ Grand Banks, “LiTakinal.” Subsequently, he started a furniture manufacturing operation, a laundry and eventually put together Majuro’s hospital as project manager. Finally, he established a successful paint dealership in Honolulu with friend Mike Dolan. Nagel was a dominating man who would naturally take control of most social gatherings and enliven the affair with wit and charm. There wasn’t much he wasn’t capable of, and even less he couldn’t talk about. He was disposed to friendship, and his friends are everywhere.)
P5 Christians v pagans As most of us know here in Majuro, there are usually two places to sit in the average restaurant. Normally, one id designated “Smoking,” and the other, “Non-Smoking.” Apparently some local people don’t like the designation ‘non-smoker’ since it implies to them that it’s more or less normal to be a smoker and kind of an aberration to not smoke, So one local minister was sitting with his wife up in Tide Table one day last week when a newly arrived visitor came into the restaurant and sat at a table near one of the booths. The minister was in the booth. “Scuse me mate,” said the visitor in fluent Aussie, “are there any designations for seating here?” He had a cigarette in his hand and was about to light up. “As a matter of fact there are,” said the reverend, “two types. Christian, where you are now, and pagan, back where you belong.”
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