We finish lunch and throw away our plates and cans of cola before continuing toward Haleiwa, with Kai again pointing out landmarks, which in this case is the miles of world-famous surf spots. He leans on the steering wheel, muscles popping in his forearm. “That’s Sunset, Pipe, Gas Chambers, Ehukai, Waimea,” he says, reeling off name after name of surfers’ paradises. “In summer this place is dead. No waves.”

I find it hard to believe, as traffic is nasty right now, surfers, media, and fans snarling the one-lane highway for today’s surf competition. Loudspeakers, viewing stands, and tents dot the beach to my right. Dozens of young girls in bikinis saunter around as a row of photographers with cameras on tripods snap away and surfers identified by their red, yellow, and blue rash guards make the most of their fifteen minutes in the water.

Eventually we leave the competition behind. Kai tells me that the surf crowd, many from Australia and Brazil, come in for the winter in November and start leaving in March. “The rest of the year, the north shore is peaceful,” he adds. “The north shore’s the old Hawaii, the quiet Hawaii, where locals and surfers do their own thing.”

We follow Kamehameha Highway past pastures and fields until we reach Haleiwa, which took its name from an early mission and was popular at the turn of the century with the opening of the Haleiwa Hotel. The hotel eventually closed and tourism dropped off, and Haleiwa didn’t revive until the 1960s, when surfing became popular. Today, art galleries fill many of the historic plantation shops lining the road. The town is old and colorful, and I’m completely charmed.

This is the Hawaii I’ve always wanted to see, the Hawaii I wasn’t sure even existed anymore.

Kai tells me that flashy isn’t cool on the north shore. If someone has money on this side of the island, you don’t know it. People don’t talk about money or throw it around. Simple food, simple drink, simple lifestyle. So different from life in Seattle, I think, so different from the Saabs, Volvos, and luxury SUVs, the expensive but understated clothes, the expensive but understated highlights, the expensive but understated houses that all proclaim one’s status in an expensive but understated way.

Life in the Pacific Northwest is good. I’m not trying to criticize it, but I’m just beginning to realize that there might be other ways to live life. To live my life.

I’ve spent the first forty years of my life trying to please others. Could I possibly spend the next forty trying to please me?

Kai pleases me, I think, glancing over at him, glad all over again that I’m spending today with him. When I was younger, I thought birthdays were so special, but my birthdays haven’t been special for years. Today, though, I feel special. Today I feel important. Valuable.