Out to Lunch
Born in a rickshaw in the dead of winter, Kona was raised by a pack of itinerant car salesmen in what was once considered the People’s Socialist Democratic Republic of Indiana. At the tender age of eighteen, thirsting for adventure and a life on the sea, he ambled aimlessly west, following the tumbleweeds and the glittering brilliance of a golden star, which turned out to be nothing more than the Carl’s Junior near the Fresno airport. Low on cash and out of ideas, he jumped aboard the next cargo ship bound for Des Moines, but instead found himself washed up on the pristine shores of Waikiki. . .
