Subways dotted my route.

I woke up at 4 o'clock again. I was still awake when light appeared at 6:30 or so. I donned my shorts and sneakers, did my knee exercises, and went for a walk along the beach. In my backpack were my camera, my spiral notebook, and an unneeded jacket. The temperatures here were reliably in the seventies every morning.

Very few people were sunbathing or swimming at that hour, but quite a few were out walking or jogging. I realized just how old and decrepit I was when more than one group of four-and-a-half-foot-tall girls passed me on the asphalt “boardwalk.” They were just out for a walk, as I was, and my legs were at least six inches longer, but they zoomed past me.

I got some pretty good photos of the sun appearing over Diamond Head.

I spotted in the water the head of one lady who was swimming. On the beach her dog waited patiently for her to come to her senses. I tried to get a shot of them without acting like a stalker.

Fido patiently ignored the pigeons while his mistress enjoyed a morning dip.

Surf's down!

I walked all the way to where the path ended at a Subway sandwich shop. In the ocean nearby I noticed a few surfers waiting for a wave. There was scarcely a ripple. I saw one guy get up on his board, but the wave only carried him a few feet. It was a little embarrassing. I kept waiting for a Kodak moment, but it never happened.

At the end of the path I walked up Lewers St. past another Subway and then turned right on Kalakaua Avenue, the main drag. At that point I was walking toward Diamond Head. Along the way I noticed that employees of quite a few of the big hotels appeared to be on strike. It had apparently not affected the Hilton.

Strikers were in sight on many corners in Waikiki.

I walked a good distance on Kalakaua and then turned around and crossed the street. On the way back I turned right on Ka'iulani Avenue, where I took note of a third Subway. I made my way back to the Hilton on Kohio Avenue, where I spotted a fourth Subway as well as a new ABC Store that was slated to open on Thursday. Aside from the Subways and numerous ABC Stores, the rest of the establishments on these streets were predominantly either high-end retailers or restaurants. This must be one of the most prestigious gatherings of retailers in the entire country.

You can store your surfboard near the beach next to the access paths.

I never expected to see a Tesla dealership on Waikiki, but I walked past one on Kalakaua Avenue. You can take a 39-second tour of the place here. It has a two-story showroom; I wondered what they would do if someone asked to take one out for a test drive.

It was hard for me to imagine that this store could generate much direct business for Tesla. After all, almost no one actually lives in Waikiki these days, and few tourists would take time out to shop for a new car on their vacations. Tesla must hope that people who see their cars on vacations will long for a new Tesla when an axle breaks on their ten-year-old Honda.[1]

Not a bad place to be a cop.

I cannot even imagine how much Elon Musk must pay per square foot for a corner lot in this area. You might have noticed that I never mentioned encountering any Subways on the Kalakaua Avenue part of my hike.

This tank was on display in front of the Army Museum.

On my way back to the hotel room I picked up a roast beef sandwich at the ABC Store and devoured it in my room after I had taken a little nap.

The Mini Blue Ribbon Pairs was scheduled for the Honolulu Sweet, which was also the room that had been used for the Super Seniors. Ann and I bought our entries near the end of the registration period, and so we were placed in a section located in the Tapa Ballroom. In all there were three sections, which, unless my recollection was totally wrong, was quite a bit fewer than when we played in this same event four years earlier in Denver.

We had a horrendous start. On hand #5 East opened 1♠. Ann made a slightly aggressive double. West redoubled, which was followed by two passes. 1♠ redoubled would be worth only 470 points, but the four likely overtricks made that not palatable. Ann decided to run to 2♦, which got doubled and went down four for -1100. We got a zero. I was not a bit upset, frustrated, or discouraged. It was just one zero.

At the time I wondered what would have happened if Ann had bid 2♣ instead of 2♦. West certainly would have doubled, but would East have sat for it?

Aside from our table, this was a totally flat board in our section. Surely someone else sitting South must have doubled with Ann's cards. I reckon that West deserved a lot of credit for redoubling and then doubling the runout rather than settling for an obvious major suit game.

Three hands later (#8) we received another terrible score. West opened an off-shaped 1NT. In the balancing seat Ann doubled, which in our methods was a relay to 2♣ showing a long minor or both majors. West's 2♦ bid took me off the hook, and so I passed. Ann thought that a double in this situation asked me to pick a major, but I thought it was for penalty. I only had two diamonds, and West surely had five of them. That still left six for Ann. Who knows which one of us was right?[2]

We played pretty well after the first few rounds. We ended up a little under 50 percent, but I was not discouraged. I felt confident that we could come back in the second session.

I met Sue for supper. She and a young lady named Mee from New York City with whom she had played in Saturday's Zip Knockout wanted to eat at the S&S Thai Kitchen. It was only about a five-minute walk, but Mee's phone app found a route that added about twenty minutes. The restaurant was on Ala Moana Boulevard, less than a block from IHOP. If I had known the address, I could have recommended a less circuitous route.

To reach the S&S restaurant you must walk down the staircase.

S&S, which was below street level, was getting crowded by the time that we arrived. Mee expected two of her friends from Manhattan to join us, and they did. They had, in fact, just gotten engaged.

I was preoccupied with the evening's session, and I still had my game face on. I did not want to eat very much. Moreover, I had never had a good experience in a Thai restaurant. I just ordered pork-fried rice, which was bland, and a Diet Coke. The service was horrendous, and for some reason Mee insisted on paying for everything even though I was just short of obnoxious about forcing her to accept our money. I left the restaurant with a bad taste in my mouth. Moreover, not much time was left to get myself mentally ready for the very important evening session.

We were East-West for the second session, and we played in the Honolulu Suite. We got off to a terrific start. Our percentages in the first two rounds were 50, 49, 58, and 96. I was pretty confident that we had already made up for the morning round. Shortly thereafter, however, the wheels came off. It began when I made a careless play on a 3NT contract that squandered an overtrick. After that I initiated the mental process that I call “cranking up.” I used every ounce of resolve that I could muster to force intense concentration, and it worked. My play was alert and calculated. Nevertheless, for a long series of hands nothing seemed to go our way.

We fought hard until the very end. In fact, the very last table was one of our best, 52 and 90 percent. Still, we knew that we had fallen short. Stuck in my craw were two slammish hands. We bid one and went down, and we stopped short on the makeable one. I had planned to analyze them here, but I can't make myself do it. No sense in pouring salt on old wounds.

Ann remarked that I looked like I was being tortured. Evidently when I went into full concentration mode it showed on my face and made her very uncomfortable. She indicated that she did not want to play on Wednesday. I (correctly) took this to mean that she did not want to play with me any more in Honolulu, if ever. This was the second tournament in less than a month that this had happened to me.[3]

The second soul-crushing moment for me in four days left me in a blue funk. It was not turning out to be much of a vacation. I have always loved the challenge that this level of bridge provided, but I definitely wanted this never to happen again. This “cranking up” is something that I have relied on in facing critical situations throughout my adult life. Maybe it's not worth it. Perhaps I need to rethink my approach or my whole attitude.

Something tells me it's all happening at the zoo.

I felt hungry. I gobbled up two sausage sandwiches at the reception, which was even more sparsely attended than the one that featured the sliders. I was determined to play on Wednesday. After all, I had expended a lot of time and money to get to Honolulu. I ambled over to the Partnership Desk and filled out a card while I finished the second sausage.

After I got back to the room I changed my mind. Sue and I decided to take Wednesday off and go to the zoo together. We had visited it in 1997, and we had enjoyed the occasion. Maybe it would help to take my mind off of bridge. At least I would doubtless be able to get plenty of photos for this project.