TAKE...ONE

This morning I filled my travel coffee cup with Kona Java and made my way outside to the street. There were just so many last minute details that I had to do for the gallery opening party this coming Friday night. Mr. Ling, who on normal days wasn't even up yet was putting luggage into the trunk of this Lincoln Town car. His son was sitting behind the wheel, the engine was running and Mrs. Ling was sitting in the back seat. Jimmy wasn't in his normal undershirt and over sized shorts, but rather had on a nice Aloha shirt and jeans that actually fit. With a pleasant smile he afforded me "Good morning, Charley." "Same to you Jimmy. Where you guys going?" "Me and the wife we're off to the mainland. We got this summer place in Oregon, on a nice little bay. Gonna' do a little fishing." "Really?" "Yes sir, we go every summer. I slipped an envelope under that door in the hall. It has our address. You can mail the rent up there for the next two months. Would talk more but we gotta catch our plane." "Sure, have a great summer." "See yah when we get back. Aloha." He jumped into the back seat and waved as they left. This landlord of mine is certainly a character. He has this house here that he has transformed into a maze of unconventional rental units. He has a museum downtown and a place on the mainland. If one were to pass him on the street you would think he was a penniless. So much for thinking. I hoped into my vehicle and drove don towards the Pali Highway. I found side street parking and walked to the bus stop. It was really difficult to find parking downtown and the garages were really expensive. My bus arrived on schedule and I found a seat where I sipped my coffee and surveyed the landscape. Fifteen minutes later I got off on Bishop Street and refilled my mug at Starbucks. I walked past the Bank of Hawaii then onward towards the ATM at American Savings a few steps beyond. I withdrew twenty dollars and proceeded diagonally across Fort Street towards the building on King Street that housed the gallery. Four tall palms graced the side wall of the building. A park type bench was anchored to the cobbled street in front of the trees. Slumped upon the bench, with a hand cart resting before him was a figure shrouded in a long blue trench coat and a wide brimmed, rain type hat, that was cinched tightly about his head. Upon the cart were two rather large suitcases bound with masking tape. I had seen him before plodding along the streets here in the downtown area pulling that cart behind him. I could only wonder how he stood the tropical heat with all of that heavy clothing. He was one of the many homeless that cruised this area. As I approached he jerked to a standing position and shuffled away with his bags in tow. Rounding the front of the building, there before the entrance was a large sheet of filthy cardboard, a broken wine bottle and cigarette butts strewn about. I unlocked my gated entry at the westerly end of the building and proceeded within and took my elevator down to the gallery. There I collected my janitorial implements. I swept and then hosed the sidewalk clean. At the newsstand I bought both the Honolulu Advertiser and Star Bulletin. Back inside the gallery I flipped to the sections in each paper that had the listings for gallery events. My press releases had paid off and the opening reception was listed as I had hoped. I picked up the phone and called both paper's art critics so as to make a personal invitation to the event. I spoke directly with one critic who assured me it was noted in her appointment book; The other, I left a recorded message. Members of The Digital Art Society would be showing up throughout the day with their artwork. I had decided on having them as my first showing artists as it fit in with my own art which was digital as well. Todd,the president of the group, arrived an hour later with my logo banner signage which I had ordered from him. He had produced it on his large format printer.  He removed it from a long tube and unfurled it on the gallery floor. It was even better then I had envisioned. Out of a smaller tube He released three smaller ones. "Great Todd. I'll write you a check." "Forget it. My gift. We are very excited to have our group showing here. I'll see you later on when I bring my art down." My luck was indeed running strong. Last week a friend of a friend gave me this wonderful old barber's chair to use when in mild conversation I had spoken about my idea of incorporating a salon into the mix. He said it had been only taking up room in his studio/office. Magic was certainly in the air. 
Some noise was coming from upstairs. I trotted up the stairway to the ground floor. There were a couple of guys shoving glass display cases through the front doors. "May I help you?" "Oh we got it, thanks." I hadn't meant it quite that way but just stood there watching. After a time, one man came over towards me and held his hand out. "I'm Henry Kim, a friend of Mr. Ling. You must be Charley. He told me about the gallery you are opening downstairs. We will be neighbors. I am moving my jewelry business here. You haven't seen Lee yet, have you?" I shook his hand. "I'm not acquainted with Lee." "Oh he'll be around. Nice guy. He is opening an oxygen bar here as well. This is a nice building. I think we will do well around here." "Well what about the museum?" "Oh we are leaving the dragon here as well as the marriage wagon. Everything else is upstairs and we will see to the visitors. All is taken care of. Jimmy is a swell guy. I need to get back to work. Talk more later."
I took all of this in. Quite an eclectic mix of businesses. Mr. Ling was indeed a little eccentric. What did it matter.
The rest of the day and week went along quite well. All of the art was hung and the gallery looked good. My son Denim helped out a lot. He and some of his buddies had distributed fliers about town. Friday night arrived and the various artists all showed up an hour before the reception was to begin. People arrived and seemed to enjoy the show. Cool jazz was played by a trio. Wine and pupus were consumed. A photographer from the Advertiser snapped photos. Other gallery owners from downtown congratulated me on the event and wished me success. An art professor from UH presented himself to me and said he just loved the SOHO feel to the whole thing. He said he was rather interested in having a showing at the gallery. I handed him my card. "Give me a call Monday." At eleven o'clock the last of the guests had left. Three painting had been sold. I took one last look around, turned the lights off and locked the gate. I sat behind the wheel of my truck, reached into my pocket and took a look at the napkin with the telephone number penciled upon it. This lovely oriental woman had handed it to me that evening. "I think I'll give her a call tomorrow. Maybe she might like to go sailing."