Big guy driving a big truck down the H-1 at night, his big spiral- cut ham face illuminated by the glow of his cellphone as he glances down at his lap and smiles at an incoming text.
That’s bad.
Little guy riding his little mosquito-weight moped down Kalanianaole, zipping and weaving like every breeze might lay him flat, steering with his knees because he’s got his phone in his hands, texting his friend like, “Be there in a minute, bro.”
That’s worse.
Storm’s coming and you’re in line to buy bottled water, Vienna sausage and toilet paper again because the family went through the stash since the last hurricane scare a few weeks ago.
That’s bad.
Storm’s coming and you’re not in line to buy bottled water, Vienna sausage and toilet paper because you know you stocked up just a few weeks ago and it’s all good at home. Except your family went through your stash on the sly and you won’t know it until you open the cupboard and go, “Whaaaat?!!”
That’s worse.
The neighbor’s mango tree comes crashing down on your Nissan.
That’s bad.
The neighbor’s lychee tree comes crashing down on your Nissan, and the tree was covered with unripe lychee.
Definitely worse.
This has been a nerve-wracking week, with the World Conservation Congress coming to town in what is essentially a lecture-demonstration on what can happen to a small island when a huge bunch of people descend on its shores and add to the competition for space. Add to that the threat of not one, but two hurricanes and a visit from President Barack Obama — and no matter how popular he is in his hometown, when he’s on the island he always messes up traffic. And then, there’s whatever is going on in each personal life, be it family, health or financial worries.
People always say to look on the bright side, but sometimes that mental exercise feels like folly. Perhaps a better way to frame it is a game of “it could be worse,” a way of thinking that seems better to suit the pessimistic national mood and the current aesthetic for criticism and negative thinking. “It could be worse” is like walking backward into gratitude, begrudgingly counting blessings, holding back from total despair and hyperbole while still getting to wallow in thoughts of bad possible outcomes.
Hurricanes coming one after another like some crazy meteorological video game and you’re not sure if your single-wall house has enough heft to make it this time. You’re stuck in traffic because of the IUCN and because of Obama and because there’s an accident, and that means HPD will close down lanes for as long as it takes to do whatever it is that they do and because of, well, ever-present Hawaii traffic. That’s bad.
But imagine the same set of circumstances — traffic, the threat of natural disasters, that frustration of wasted time on the road — but you’re not living in Hawaii.
Admit it. That’s worse.
Reach Lee Cataluna at 529-4315 or lcataluna@staradvertiser.com
