Yesterday was an irksome and frustrating day, wrapped around a fabulous lunch at Senia. For the past few days I was irritated by hair scratching my ears. I finally decided when I woke up to get a haircut above everything else. So I called my barber, and she squeezed me in for a 10:35 appointment.

I walked to the bus stop at 9:45, and thought I'd pull out my iPhone to see when The Bus was coming. Yikes, I could not find it on me, so had to walk back to my apartment. I searched around, and finally realized the phone was in one my vest pockets. As you know, I have all kinds of pockets in these vest shirts I make in Bangkok.

Feeling dumb and vexed, I returned to the bus stop, and no one else was waiting, so of course The Bus had come and gone. However, my phone said that the next one was coming at 10:23. I could just about make that 10:35 schedule. A few minutes later I checked the phone again, and the company had cancelled the next bus. So I called the barber to inform her I would be a little late, with huge apologies.
At 10:37 my phone rang. The clinic at 15 Craigside was wondering why I was not there for my 10:30 appointment. This was one of those few days when I forgot to check my calendar. This was my Annual Comprehensive Assessment. A big deal here. Essentially, it is to track your coming dementia. Strike one for me. It's not that if you do not score 100% they immediately move you to the second floor hospital floor. So my life has not come to a near end. It is, though, profoundly embarrassing.

I mumbled on the phone something about having to be away, and sorry, but when can I re-schedule? I had made a quick personal decision to pick the barber over the inquisitor because I had not yet put together my package of paperwork to bring with me: insurance cards, current medications, orders for life-sustaining treatment and something called an advance directive, which fails my memory on what this might be. If someone in the 15 Craigside administration reads this posting, that person could well send a copy to my assessment monitor. Strike two. Apparently,
anxiety is terrible for memory loss.

Anyway, the bus finally came at 10:50 so I showed up for my haircut at 11:05. She was just finishing cutting a man's hair. An old lady was waiting. However, my barber summoned me to the chair. I felt a bit guilty, but who am I to tell her what to do. She might have a queueing theory beyond my comprehension. I asked her to cut my hair really short because I hate hair touching my ears. I now sport a virtual buzz cut, as short as when I was in Army basic training a long time ago.
I've been here several times. Senia (
pronounced sen-ya) came in second this year to Merriman's Honolulu as the best Oahu restaurant in the
36th annual Hale Aina Awards. Next door is The Pig and the Lady, a Vietnamese spot, which was #3. Senia's co-chef are Chris Kajioka (
came from Vintage Cave) and Anthony Rush (
from the UK), former employees of Per Se. Hostess is Katherine Nomura Rush.
The restaurant was almost filled with customers. Photos of my lunch:
I ordered a rose' and champagne to go with the Tuna Tataki, Ahi Burger and Le Canneli, a custard dessert:
While good enough, I thought I would add some character to the tataki, so asked for some hot sauce:
I thought this improved the dish. The burger was huge and terrific:
At this point Anthony Rush showed up and opened a mailing of frozen foie gras. We chatted a bit.
I congratulated him on the cuisine and staff, but jokingly remarked that everyone is so robotically orchestrated to get the job done, that no one smiles. I expect most of them over time to become the head chef at their personal restaurant.
The dessert was a crispy custard. Excellent.
I truly enjoyed this lunch, exactly the opposite of what had occurred earlier in the day, and continued in the afternoon.
Why befuddles me, but as I was outside Ross, I went in and bought another shirt, even though I have enough of them to last three lifetimes. I then walked to Long's on Beretania to purchase butter and some batteries. Then to the closest bus stop, and just as I got there, The Bus left. At that point I realized that I was missing my walking cane. Dementia item #3.

I remembered placing the cane next to a hanger when picking out my shirt, so decided to get back to Ross. Across the street was a #4 bus heading into town, so finally got lucky. Went down to the men's section and did not see the cane where I thought I had left it. Asked around, and no cane.

Then, it occurred to me that I had left the cane when I checked out of Long's. It would have been a two-minute walk if I had returned from that bus stop. So again went there and asked. No one reported my cane, but the guard noticed this cane hanging near one of the check-out counters. That was mine. Ah, success. But when I got back to that same bus stop, no one was waiting and my iPhone said that the next bus was in 24 minutes, so, clearly, it had just left. About half an hour later, The Bus arrived and I got home, exhausted, for I must have walked at least nine holes. Took a bath with a scotch and rocks.
As relatively crummy as the day had gone, something about my still
euphoric attitude made all that experience memorably okay. After all, I was not mugged or did not fall during my trying efforts. I also had a satisfying lunch and found my cane. Life is good.

Early signs of dementia? I'll continue this subject tomorrow, and also mention
Biogen's Aducanumab, a possible pill to delay Alzheimer's.
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Typhoon Bualoi remains at 100 MPH, but is projected to have a path sufficiently east of Japan to cause any problems.
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