FAMILY MATTERS
'Rodney' delivers important message via voicemail — click!

By Ka'ohua Lucas

It had been a long day.

I spent the better part of it searching for a parking spot in Manoa, then haggling over a parking permit at the university.

I snatched the mail from the mailbox and zoomed into the driveway.

A letter caught my eye. I tore it open and read the content.

Oh no.

My daughter had missed a college scholarship opportunity!

Aue!

"Why are you so grumpy, Mom?" the 13-year-old asked.

"Don't talk to me now," I snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

As I stormed up the steps and flung open the door, I punched in the code to receive our telephone voicemail.

"Uh, hello, dis is Rodney Silva from the parkin' office at the University of Hawai'i," the raspy recorded voice said, in perfect pidgin.

"Um, I've been asked by Mr. Rocha to call you up. He apparently contacted the owner of the vehicle you are trying to get a parking permit foah."

Pause.

"And the owner has never heard of you. I tink you better call us."

Click.

Flashback to the scene at parking operations. A human chain forms in front of the office. Students and faculty are queued up for parking passes.

Finally, it's my turn! I step up to the window. The staff search for the approved paperwork.

Nothing.

"I'm sorry, we are unable to issue you a pass since you are not in our file."

"But you called my office and told our assistant director that I was approved for parking," I said.

File drawers and cabinet bins are searched.

"Oh yes," the clerk says. "Here it is."

I hand her my vehicle's registration form, driver's license and car insurance card.

She scrutinizes the documents.

"I'm sorry. Since the car is not registered in your name, you will need to get this waiver signed by the registered owner."

"The registered owner is my husband," I say calmly.

"It doesn't matter. You do not share the same last name."

"But the insurance card reflects both of our names as well as the insured vehicle."

She doesn't budge.

I get the waiver signed and return to the parking office within two hours to wait in line. Again.

I produce all the documents.

"I need your PNF form," the clerk says.

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's a form to indicate you are in our system," he says.

"I do not have a PNF form, but I do have a university card identifying me as an employee."

"That's not sufficient."

Eventually, I am awarded a parking pass, but it takes a great deal of self-control to remain calm throughout.

E moni i ke koko o ka inaina, 'umi ka hanu o ka ho'omanawanui.

This Hawaiian proverb means: Swallow the blood of wrath and hold the breath of patience.

After listening, again, to detective Silva's message on my voicemail machine, I couldn't contain myself.

"Gosh, Mom," the 13-year-old looked at me in bewilderment. "First you're huhu. Now you're laughing."

"That was your father, pretending to be a parking enforcement officer at the university, investigating my case."

"And?"

"He was basically saying, 'Don't sweat the little things.' "

Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; fax 525-8055; or at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com.