Ay you guys, you’re so mean to Romy Cachola!
Romy Cachola has a dream! A dancing, multicolor, fountaining dream!
And all you can do is laugh. Poor Romy Cachola. Sad Romy Cachola.
Romy Cachola saw a festering problem — the Capitol reflecting pool, which only reflects the worst kind of governmental ineffectiveness — and Romy Cachola offered up a vision for an elegant solution.
OK, not elegant, but pretty.
OK, maybe not pretty, but flashy. It would be very flashy. At least for the two weeks that it actually works before one of the pumps blows out because a homeless dude poops in the pool … and then there’d be a suit against the architect, which would go on for years while the limu and muck collect in epic proportions … and the hellish committee meetings to decide whose face would be projected on the spraying water while catchy music plays on the tinny speaker system. (At the Plaza Salcedo, one of the inspirations for this idea, the faces of the local governor and Manny Paquiao alternately appear in the spraying water to the tune of “Eye of the Tiger.”)
Whether it would actually work is beside the point. It would not work. No question about that.
The point is there is a kind of reckless audacity in the suggestion, a spirit that we don’t often see in the Legislature. OK, we do, but not this reckless and audacious.
The dreams of Romy Cachola are bold and bright. Like Don Quixote. Or Don Quijote.
What if Romy Cachola is on to something?
What if that sort of stardust-and-dazzle approach was brought to some of Hawaii’s most intractable problems?
The Natatorium could become a giant pirate show, like Treasure Island in Las Vegas. There could be laser lights and fake explosions and real pirates. Real pirates wouldn’t mind the funky water of the Natatorium. Real pirates would be right at home.
Or, ooh! ooh! — what if the Ala Wai was turned into a beautiful water-taxi ride, like “It’s a Small World” at Disneyland? It would run mostly at night so that all the yucky stuff wouldn’t be so obvious. There could be little displays on the banks of the canal, doll-size tableaux of all the things tourists expected to see in Hawaii.
What if the rail project was more like a thrill ride, with twists and dips that made you giddy and terrified with the thought that it might never end or could end badly?
Oh wait. Never mind.
The practical approach doesn’t go over well in state government. The practical thing to do with that stinking reflecting pool might be to drain it and fill it with plants. (Don’t tell Cynthia Thielen. She’ll plant hemp in there. Cynthia Thielen also has a dream.)
Romy Cachola’s idea is completely impractical and far from the usual tactic of protracted inaction by the state. It could mark a new way of dealing with Hawaii problems: Slap on some colored lights and call it a party. Romy Cachola will lead the way.
Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com.
