Picture this: There are little tiki torches lighting up the beach. Gentle waves are lapping at the shore. Men in Hawaiian shirts, and the sounds of a Ukulele playing. The drums begin. Then a line of beautiful Hawaiian women come out with grass skirts and coconut bras. (Always thought it would be fun to have a coconut bra. Don’t know where I would wear it. It can’t be comfortable. But it would be a conversation piece, that’s for sure. Probably very itchy. But back to my story.

The drums increase their tempo. Those gals can shake their hips like nobodies business.  They must teach that in school here – Hula 101. We never had Hula 101 at Hollywood High School. We had some crazy stuff, but not hula.

Anyway…I gaze around the beach. Everyone is mesmerized by the hula gals. The music stops…the crowd erupts into thundering applause! Or was that just thunder? Did anyone see lightening? Do I need to run for cover? No? Whew! I don’t run so fast anymore. And when I do run, it’s pretty funny.

The drums start up again, and now well oiled men come out with fire batons. They spin them and throw them up into the air. They twirl, and the fire makes a circle as the batons spin.  The drums grow louder. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a familiar site. Can’t he JUST STAY HOME for once! Nope I guess not. “The Beast” is here and he’s wearing a lei. He’s standing on a chair he dragged in from somewhere. Everyone else is sitting on the sand, but “The Beast” has a chair. That’s because he is so short. He needs to stand on the chair to see the show over the shoulders of the other people. And now he has put “Tattoo” on his shoulders so he can see, because “Tattoo” is even smaller than “The Beast.”  They look like someone carved a totem pole blindfolded.

I try to hide from “The Beast”, but there are not a lot of hiding places on the beach. Whomever is producing the Luau has put up a stage and a bamboo fence around the area to keep the small children contained. I run behind the little stage they set up on the sand for the show. A man – I swear he looked just like Don Ho, hands me something and says “Hurry up, you are on next. You girls have two minutes before you go on. So get changed.”

I look at what has been planted in my hands. It is a very colorful muumuu. Maybe I can disguise myself in this muumuu and “The Beast” won’t recognize me. What the heck, I’ll try it on. I look kinda like my grandma did in the sixties when she would come and stay with us. She would always wear a house coat. This muumuu is much prettier, but it still isn’t that figure flattering. The Don Ho look alike comes rushing over and pushes me and three other gals out on stage. I stumble a little, which I am oft to do. But I get myself upright just in time to freeze. Everyone is looking at us…Tattoo and The Beast as well. (hey I swear I can see “The Beast” squinting. Maybe he can’t see me!).

The music starts. They are playing the Limbo. (I always liked the limbo – back when I used to be limber!). I remember that song from birthday parties and Bar Mitzvahs. The other girls start to lean back and go under the pole. They are motioning to the crowd to join in. The line is getting long. “How low can you go!” comes out over the loud speaker. And then I see Tattoo jump off “The Beast’s” shoulders and get in line. “The Beast” goes right in after him. Everybody’s having a good time except me! I limbo under the pole. Hey, didn’t know I could still do that. I spot the chair that “The Beast” was standing on. Figuring that I have a few minutes because he is partying like it’s 2099. I take a seat to rest and plan my escape. But they spot me and are headed my way. Quickly I get up to run, but I am going nowhere fast. The blood drains out of my head and I get very dizzy. Can you say Orthostatic hypotension “expialidocious.” (the last part is not scientific, it is morgan-ese.) I stand there until the blood returns to my brain and I can move without falling down. My eyes finally focus and I realize I am cornered. “The Beast” and “Tattoo” are headed this way. And… there is no way out. There is the bamboo fence, but there is no place to get a foothold to climb it. The stage is blocked by the limbo pole, and half of the luau-ers are still limboing.

Looking every which way I realize there’s only one chance – The Water. I make a beeline for the waters edge. I look over to my right. I spot a rickety pier with a small dingy tied up to it. I begin to feel a sense of calm. It flows over me like a gentle waterfall on the island. I now know what I must do.

“Hey Beast, come and get me if you can. I dare you”, I say, taunting him. “The Beast” gets that glazed look over his eyes like when some one brings a kid a triple scoop banana split with whipped cream and sprinkles. Drool comes seeping out of both sides of his mouth. “The Breast” whistles for “Tattoo” who comes running from the limbo line. I grab an old oar that is lying by the side of the pier. As the two henchmen come closer I reach down into the dingy and grab a cord like rope that was laying on the back seat. My nemesis’s gets closer. From my lips comes the limbo song:
“You will hear the limbo song”. (I hold out the old oar like a limbo bar).
“You’ll be dancin’all night long”
“Come on boys, one more Limbo for good luck.”

“The Beast” and “Tattoo” look at each other and shake their heads in agreement.
They take the last few steps under the limbo pole and come to find there is no more pier left. They fall straight down off the edge of the pier into the little dingy. Pulling rapidly on the rope, the whirr of an outboard motor fills the night, and off they go – disappearing into the darkness.

I throw down the pole, turn around and walk back up the rickety pier.
“Limbo cool, Limbo fine. Clap your hands it’s Party Time!”

Suddenly, I hear an alarm ringing from somewhere!  Uh oh…I guess I’m in trouble. But, then I shake myself out of a fog, and realize that this was all just a dream. And as my eyes try to roll back into my head, and I can hardly get enough energy to sit up…I reach for my blood pressure cuff. It tightens it loosens, and the read-out comes up: 80/50. No wonder I can’t get out of bed.

Limbo line….How low can you go?