Hawaiian Heart Attack


Every now and then I’m asked stupid questions. Do you like Pearl Jam? Will you draw a nice cartoon about Donald Trump? Do you wanna come over and watch La La Land? Is Donald Trump a racist? Do you miss living in Hawaii? Yes, no, not in a million years, good lord yes, and yes.

Will Durst, a very famous comedian, asked me that last question on a pilot for a TV talk show that wasn’t picked up. I only lived in Hawaii for a year, but I miss it so much that I try not to think about it. Forgetting Sarah Marshall kills me.

I miss Hawaii for the typical reasons shared by others, the people, the food, the beaches, and the climate. But mostly, I miss working for the Honolulu Star-Bulletin. That one year was the most fun I ever had working for a newspaper. I had to draw two cartoons a day which was a grueling schedule, but in return, they left me alone. It was a very creative and competitive staff in a two-newspaper town. Even if I went back, those days couldn’t be recaptured. The Star-Bulletin consumed its rival and is now the Star-Advertiser, the ownership has changed, newspapers don’t hire people anymore (especially cartoonist), and it’s no longer a two-newspaper town.

Though I try not to think about it too much, I think of my friends whenever the state makes national news, like suing Trump or every resident having the life scared out of them by a false missile alert.

Around 8:00 a.m. on Saturday, an employee at the Hawaii Emergency Management Agency pushed the wrong button. From a drop-down menu on a computer program were the selections “Test missile alert” and “Missile alert.” Someone thought it was a fabulous idea to put those two options right next to each other. He hit “Missile alert.” There was not a selection for “Cancel missile alert before you start a state-wide crisis and a million heart attacks.” It took them nearly 40 minutes to inform the state it was a false alarm. North Korea was not attacking the Aloha State. Hope nobody did anything drastic, like burn through all their money or sleep with the loser next door. It was a false what now? Hand me my pants. Mahalo.

Residents of Hawaii and visitors received a text saying, “BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO HAWAII. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.” The warning that scrolled across television screens read, “If you are indoors, stay indoors. If you are outdoors, seek immediate shelter in a building. Remain indoors well away from windows. If you are driving, pull safely to the side of the road and seek shelter in a building or lay on the floor.” Do a lot of people drive while watching TV in Hawaii?

People in Hawaii thought they only had minutes before they became Korean barbecue. What do you do in that situation? Panic? Freak out? Seek shelter though you really don’t know where there is shelter? Run in a circle saying “ohmygodohmygodohmygod?” Just accept your fate? Hope the missile hits Molokai? I don’t know how I would react.

I don’t know how Donald Trump would react either, so for once I’m really glad he was on a golf course. We need to keep him where he can’t hurt nothing, damn the cost. I know he wants to push that button really bad. It would suck if we bomb North Korea because a doofus hit the wrong button while trying to skip a YouTube commercial. I really hate those commercials. Just play Pearl Jam already!

At any other time, a mistake like this probably wouldn’t startle as many people. But, with a stupid president taunting a dictator by calling him “Little Rocket Man,” an incoming missile sounds plausible, like “president says N-word.” Yup, very believable. They’re both probably gonna happen.

I am very happy my friends in Honolulu are safe. Bryant, Burl, and Mary can continue to torture me with pics on social media of scenery and lunch. You have not lived until you’ve had Filipino food from a food truck. It’s also the only place where I’ve had gas-station sushi.

Creative note and informative stuff you probably don’t need to know: I didn’t add Trump and Kim in this cartoon until I was almost finished. I was kinda happy I was drawing a cartoon without Trump in it. But when the light bulb lit up, I knew it made the cartoon better.

Coconuts are dangerous. They can fall out of a tree and conk you in the head. In Honolulu, city crews go around snipping baby coconuts so they don’t grow up and fall on tourists. You’ll occasionally see nets at the top of the trees to catch them. I had a tree right outside my office window. It didn’t grow any coconuts, but I did spend four hours one day watching a lizard.

I want to thank everyone who has donated in the past. Your support helps me continue creating cartoons and columns with a little less stress in my life. Between competing syndicates with much larger resources, timid editors, and Trump supporters who attempt to intimidate the editors who do publish anything that criticizes their idol, it’s a challenge to make a career out of this. So your support (if you can) is appreciated. Want to help me continue to create cartoons and keep doing what I’m doing (pissing off conservatives)? Look to the right of this page and make a donation through PayPal. Every $40 donation will receive a signed print (please specify which print you want or I won’t mail one). All donations will receive my eternal gratitude


  1. What do you do in that situation? Panic? Freak out? Seek shelter though you really don’t know where there is shelter? Run in a circle saying “ohmygodohmygodohmygod?” Just accept your fate? Hope the missile hits Molokai?

    Hey Clay, I can’t believe that you forgot “Bend over and kiss your ass goodbye.”


  2. for once I’m really glad he was on a golf course

    I’m ALWAYS glad when 45* is on a golf course. That is time when 45* is NOT tweeting or talking or pushing buttons or signing GOP bills or issuing executive orders or appointing judges or other idiots to Federal positions or otherwise hurting anybody (except hitting someone with a ball or club or cart but since they are a friend or paying member who cares?). The most damage 45* can do on a golf course is make divots but since it is his course who cares.

    Stupid 45* Golf Joke:
    45* is the only golfer who routinely makes divots on the Green.


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