This Dustinland was inspired by my recent trip to Hawaii, which was incredibly awesome. Now, I don’t want to seem like a snobby douche — I realize that most of the people I would consider cheesy tourists have saved up and paid a lot of money for their vacations and are just trying to enjoy themselves, and good for them. However, it can often be painful to watch and listen to, and in this case, dangerous.

It’s one thing to leave Kansas for a vacation in New York only to wind up eating at Olive Garden, Sbarro’s and Bumba Gump Shrimp Co., but it’s another to travel to Waimea Bay and let your six-year-old run into the water where he can get washed away by a sudden giant wave in the flash of an eye, despite repeated warnings broadcast over loudspeakers by lifeguards. And that’s exactly what I was witness to, not once, but many times — at least once every ten minutes for two hours straight. See, there’s nothing wrong with wandering around Hawaii looking for a nice beach to swim at, but even the slightest bit of Googling will tell you that the North Shore of Oahu is famous for huge, dangerous surf, especially in the winter. Here are literally the first few sentences from the first entry found by Googling Waimea Bay Beach:

“During the summer months the water of this ‘Reddish’ bay is calm and great for swimming with a large sandy beach area. But watch out during the winter months when the waves can reach heights of thirty feet. This is the home of the largest, most dangerous and spectacular surf in the world.”

So I don’t think it’s too much to ask for your average tourist to do one minute of research before letting your child splash around in surf, risking his life, as well as that of the beach’s lifeguards.

In other news, I would just like to toot my own horn a little by pointing out the fantastic attention to detail in this week’s Dustinland. In fact, I made this week’s comic larger than the usual Dustinland just so that you wouldn’t miss a thing. Notice the pale color of the tourist’s pasty skin, as well as the pink sunburn on the large tourist mama. Take note of the changing pattern in the tourist papa’s obnoxious shirt: palm trees, sport fish, flowers, then in the final panel, pineapples. Observe the matching Crocs on mama and child. What does all this mean? It means that yes, I have been to Honolulu.


4 responses to “Retourds

  1. Also your face in every panel so that we know you were eyewitness to every detail.

  2. I was in Hawaii for my honeymoon and I remember getting knocked down by a wave and I was just knee-deep in the water.

  3. I hate those types of people. I think I should have been born in ancient Sparta, because when I look at people like that all I can think is “Aw, they would have been great candidates for exposure.” (Exposure being the [historically disputed] Spartan practice of leaving less than ideal people/newborns on the side of a cliff to be exposed to elements… and presumably die.)

    Families are the worst – they act like all the world’s a stage and everyone else is a willing admirer. These people try to draw attention to themselves in any way possible, and in turn I ignore them and go out of my way to avoid them. No, I do not think another screaming brat child spawn of two losers is the greatest thing ever, and I won’t fawn. I feel like getting a shirt printed to say “I hate kids. This includes yours.” I’d like to get a forcefield around me, like an automatic repellant for these sorts… who increasingly seem to be the super majority of people. What ever happened to normal people who are quiet, polite, humble, respectful, and don’t require the attention or admiration of complete strangers?

    It’d be cool if we could all be characterized by songs we identify with. Kind of like how each computer has a unique IP and MAC address. We could scan each other, find out their song and determine if the person is compatible or receptive. My song would be “The Peak” or “I Don’t Care What Happens” by Alec Empire. Hopefully one glimpse of that would keep an ugly idiot loser family from Middle America far away from me.

    Nice comic, too… sounds like an awesome trip. Hawaii’s def on my list of places to go, maybe I’ll get an Andy Irons sighting there.

  4. A long time ago, I was in Paris. I was walking into a currency shop to get some francs (this was before Euros, that’s how long ago it was) and some loud American family was walking out with the guy guffawing, “Hey, I got some more of this Monopoly money, haw haw haw.”

    That’s right, asshole, no one in France but you speaks or understands English.

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