Jimmy C on a Maui Day

Contrast makes life on Maui vivid - winter stretches of rain wash summer skies of all but the bluest blue; asphalt gray traffic in town expands the grass green space in the country.

The contrast isn't always places. Sometimes it's people and the individuals who move gracefully from one human context to another.

Last Saturday: Winter's final hurrah smudged the upper-slopes skies above Makawao. Early morning squalls scampered across the landscape, gusty winds flinging mists just robust enough to warrant a light jacket taken just in case.

The 16th annual Seabury Hall Craft Fair draws a line of cars up Olinda Road and into the pasture where cowboys will tend the ranks of cars for a buck. Just before the starting time of the fair, the ranks of horsepower are thin, if orderly. As the early arrivals troop between the school's gateposts, the first line of squalls gives up and a smile-spreading blaze of sunshine lights the crafters worrying over their wares inside.

Another buck at the gate, a stamp on the back of the hand and a colorful crowd moves into the scenic grounds of the school established by the Episcopal Church back in the 1960s.

Balloons wave in the air over the craft stands. A student exhibit occupies the school chapel. There's a fine art show in the living room of Cooper Hall and exhibitions of Hawaiiana in the rapidly packed dining room attached to the old country manse.

The school's first band warms up under a tent overlooking the soccer field, now the destination of porpoising youngsters flinging themselves down a black plastic water slide.

As is usually the case with gathering like this, friends seldom seen appear out to the throngs. Catch-up conversations bloom and wilt rapidly. A musician friend who also works at the school, pops up. Jim Coulter, also known as Jim Christopher to folks who have heard him play jazz on the radio, is always delight to see. He's always very up, very excited. Lots of years ago, he was a professional rock and roll drummer on the Mainland. Today, music is more avocation than vocation. But he still plays, a lot.

This morning, he's backing up a couple of youngsters. They call the group UAF. "This afternoon, I'm playing with a Dixieland band," Coulter said with an air that belied the gray in his beard. It also turned out that another, more adult trio, was making its debut at Lopaka's that night...

Hours later, skin a little tender from the unaccustomed sun that morning, it seemed a good idea to fall by Lopaka's, give a little support to a friend at a new gig, and have a rare night out.

The rain squalls had long since left the Central Valley, leaving the sky overhead a comfortable velvet black. The dentist's boy with tooth sculpture/sigh on Alamaha marked an on-street parking spot.

Trees outside the bar and grill are festooned with fairie lights (but I bet they don't call 'em that). It's early but already there is a stand of Harleys in the parking lot, up front where the riders can keep an eye on them from inside.

The bar was once a model home for an A-frame distributor. It's a comfortable place with small tables, affable service, big juicy burgers and a giant-screen television popular with the weekend sports crowd. Halfway up the steps, Coulter appears out of nowhere and is delighted to see a couple of friends.

The early-evening crowd is a little thin. The serious drinkers seem to be clustered at the opposite of the room where the band, called The Urge, is set up to play.

Soon enough, The Urge fills the place with sound, opening up with an old Ray Charles standard. Sounds of the '60s and early '70s lure a few of the more brave onto a small dance floor off to the side. More than one person was singing along, sounding great to themselves since the prerequisite volume of the guitar, bass and singer(s) masked any faults of pitch.

More individuals arrived, most of them at least familiar with the folks already on hand. The drummer, scrunched into a corner under a wall-mounted television set grinned and grinned and grinned.

Not too much later, driving into the country to home. It seemed a well-rounded, Maui day. A craft fair with chi-chi overtones in the morning; a blue-collar delight at night. It's the contrasts that are important.

The stars were very bright.

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