Father Damian of Molokai.

Shirley: I will never read a Michener book again. However. I am glad that we read Hawaii, by James Michener, and here’s why: If you looked out over your back balcony in Maui, what did you see?

Me: Rocks. Americans. Mists. A beach? The Clubhouse?

Daddy: Bigger.

Me: Lanai. Molokai.

Shirley: On Molokai they would send you there to live forever if you had leprosy. Men, women, everybody. Lepers.

Daddy: This is a problem. Lots of raping.

Shirley: Lots of raping. Lepers raping lepers.

Daddy: “Hey, I’m going to stump on over there and then rape ya, okay?”

Me: Okay, what’s the story though?

Shirley: Father Damian set up some kind of church or hospice so that leper’s wives could take care of them. Or husbands or whatever. And hope you didn’t get leprosy while you did this.

Daddy: This also didn’t work out very well.

Shirley: Then the wives would get raped by the lepers.

Me: Guys. Enough with the rape and leprosy. I know it’s funny, I think it’s funny too, but I’m blogging this.

Shirley: Just this: Imagine you’re getting raped.

Me: Um, okay?

Shirley: By a man whose face is literally falling off his head. Just sliding off.

Me: Um?

Shirley: Now if you went to Molokai today? This would not happen. Thanks to Father Damian.

Me: Thanks, Father Damian.


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