As the TV flashes images of Libya and Japan and newscasters drone on about the bombardment and death toll, I’m forced to give myself a time-out from such mental and emotional exhaustion. Clicking off the set, I watch as the
As the TV flashes images of Libya and Japan and newscasters drone on about the bombardment and death toll, I’m forced to give myself a time-out from such mental and emotional exhaustion.
Clicking off the set, I watch as the tube inhales the white light and deposits me in a room of blackness.
Peace.
Temporarily shelving the dying and drama abroad, I sharpen my focus on the concerns facing community members here.
My mind envisions the dozens, perhaps hundreds, of homes on Kaua‘i that are filled with one, perhaps three, TVs turned off and left in a similar darkness. Empty houses, vacated for the season by part-time residents.
Then I picture the dozens, perhaps hundreds, of kama‘aina with no place to crash tonight except a shady corner on a beach or a van in an inconspicuous parking lot.
Fancy structures fit for kings sitting idly, with their TVs just begging for someone to watch them, and down-and-out residents left to their own devices.
So here I propose a new law limiting the number of houses one person or family, whichever is greater, can buy to one. One only really needs one, at least as long as others have none.
Aside from this initiative helping more TVs avoid feelings of abandonment, it would likely also significantly lower property taxes for full-time residents who have watched their assessments soar as more mansions pop up in the neighborhoods.
Maybe it’s just a silly idea to be cast off for myriad reasons likely centering around the economic benefits of having such castles built on Kaua‘i. But this simple suggestion might just have merit if given a chance.
Or maybe not.
I flick the TV back on and start flipping through the channels. A little “Daily Show,” the end of “Scarface,” and choke stations trying to sell worthless items to consumers too sleep-deprived to know any better. Maybe if we spent less on junk, we could afford to save up for a second house, or first, or at least a new tent.
When I stare aimlessly into that black hole of a TV set while trying to unwind from work, I count my non-monetary fortunes in this life. I may not have a second home, or even pay a mortgage on a first, but I do have a roof over my head and enough money to keep the electricity turned on.
