Paul Knowlton's White Lotus

 Paul Knowlton's White Lotus

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     It is ironic that this post is titled something that means nothing to the protagonist. Paul, Zeke, "the Prince," "Senor Suerte" or the Snail (I never called him that.) My old pal just created a memorable vacation on the island of Oahu where the mean old world was a far off nightmare and the closest thing to stress was choosing which kind of massage you would request. Paul was the second friend in my life and we grew up about a block away from each other. We were Catholic boys and loved sports that created a bond lasting seventy years. This connection continued from grammar school to High School, to Community College to University. We were roomates from 1968 to 1972 and our families had a solid respect for one another. Paul grew up in a family of nine kids at a tract house in South Gate when the common man lived the American dream. Then again with 11 mouths to feed the American dream can only stretch so far. It is a cliche but the Knowltons had to mind their pennies but the love was for free and flowed out of 9640 to the extent that is continues to last week in Oahu. These kids really love being together and that alone is treasure not many people get to enjoy. I spent a great deal of my early days in the smoke-filled front room up there where little was brand new except the pinochle decks that appeared every now and then. Holding up the tent-pole was the legendary Margaret who spent her too few days making sure these brats knew the important things in life. She made sure they knew the value of a book or the comfort of an old dog. They had chores and even held jobs before they reached double digits in age.They did not have extra cash or patience to go out to dinner together like my family did but no one went hungry despite their skinny appearance that was more about genetics than malnutrition. I was a skinny late bloomer too and so fit right in at the Knowltons where they took in extras in the form of Ed Carroll and myself. I know everything about their family from 1954 on when I crossed Duane Way to visit Paul and Johnny called me a fucker. Maybe I know too much since I remember things they don't and am not deterred from spreading hot air even in a tropical paradise. So, this could be a novel but I am holding it short.

    Paul invited me to join the group many months ago and I rarely leave my neighborhood but this was the Knowltons. My daughter coached me through the preparations and there was the "rest of the story." Paul or Zeke worked from childhood, he studied and got good grades, he had a mind for math and used it to get a degree in Engineering. He found good jobs because he had a solid reputation stemming from a good temperment and brain. To hear him tell it his success was just good luck but over his lifetime he accumulated a pretty good pile. Then there was the Powerball win at rather long odds (292 million to one.) Every single person I told  "Zeke won the powerball" said basically the same thing. "It couldn't happen to a nicer guy!" They really don't know the half of it since the real winners are his family and friends. He has never been interested in keeping any of this dough just for himself. He drives an old car, his home is not a mansion, he is not surrounded by false friends and I could not see any bling hanging from the man's neck or arms. His out of fashion idea of fun is sharing! This is a novel idea that (I refuse to use  their names) seem not to understand. At Ko Olina resort Paul was the patriarch and revered but not for the fact he picked up so many checks his hand must have been cramping. There were 15 guests under his largesse and not only did we live like aristocrats but gratitude was  waived off like this generosity was to be expected. In a twisted world where greed, cruelty and ignorance rules Paul Knowlton is the exception.  We may have left our Catholicism behind decades ago but we still may remember the words of St.Francis of Assissi “For it is in giving that we receive.”