A calendar for every passion

By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

I don't know about you, but I can't imagine spending an entire year looking at babies dressed up as flowers.

Or pigs dressed up as flowers.

Or vegetables dressed up as babies, pigs and flowers.

There are some strange 2002 calendars out there. Of course, strange is a subjective thing. To one person, "Cuddle Bunnies of the Year" is precious. To another, it's a slice of hell.

But a calendar for "Cat Co-Dependents" and "Neglected Murderesses," well, there's whimsical and then there's just weird.

Ala Moana Center has a store that sells nothing but calendars, floor to ceiling. The items are categorized not only by subject, but within subjects with great specificity. For example, they don't just have dog calendars, they have schnauzer calendars. And schnauzer puppy calendars. And schnauzer puppies-and-kitties-together calendars.

There's one shelf with sports-related themes, from the Fighting Irish calendar to the WWF. The abutting shelf is full of what used to be called pin-up girl calendars. The Anna Kournikova calendar straddles the border in between.

Then there are the page-a-day types, including 365 Stupidest Things Ever Said, the Best of the Darwin Awards and A Year of Legal Lunacies.

I guess these arise from the belief that superiority is achieved through noting others' inferiority. No matter how bad your day is going, you can always look to your handy desk calendar to remind yourself that there is a bigger doofus out there than you.

Inspiration comes from unexpected places, it seems. Among the celebrities you can hang on your wall to mark your days are Bruce Lee, Elvis and Eminem.

To each his own.

There's a rock climbing calendar. And one depicting only hot sauces. Tall ships. Guinea pigs. Mullet hair-dos.

It boggles the mind.

In truth, these are not items we purchase for ourselves. Calendars have become the desperation gift of our time, the Almond Roca of the new generation. And there is thought that goes into a gift calendar. There is much care and consideration when someone buys you a year of mullets instead of, say, a year of cats with hats.

What I'd like to find is a calendar that won't just mark time, but will make the best of time. One that would have daily reminders like, "Get off the couch," "It's not that bad," and "Nobody else is going to do it for you."

Or in the alternative, a return to the simpler calendars of years past, like the free ones from Mike Kitagawa Chevron — the one with the picture that stays the same all year (usually New England leaves or something equally Norman Rockwell-esque) and the monthly pages you tear off from the crooked stapled corners. Life is complicated enough.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.