Overloaded planes continue to be a weighty problem in Hawaii. "Hawaii residents love Krispy Kreme Doughnuts so much," reports Reuters, "that they often stock up at a new store in Maui before boarding inter-island flights back home, overloading airline luggage bins along the way." According to the news service, islanders carry as many as five or six boxes of doughnuts aboard planes at the Maui airport and the overhead bins are filled to overflowing. The latest threat to airline safety has even been given a name — commuter doughnuts. The very real possibility of having a cholesterol-caused air mishap in Hawaii is compounded by filling planes not only with doughnuts, but with overweight doughnut eaters as well. My first introduction to the dangerous combination of overloaded planes and island-hopping in Hawaii occurred many years ago, when my husband and I were vacationing there. At one point we were scheduled to fly from Oahu to Molokai to Maui. The brief stopover at the tiny airport on Molokai provided an opportunity to stretch our legs and take photos of a dense jungle on three sides of the airport’s main runway. One end of the runway didn’t have trees because it stopped just short of a precipitous cliff edge, high above the sounds of surf crashing on rocks below. We could see nothing but brilliant blue sky with fluffy white clouds at that end of the runway. We realized something unusual was happening when all of the checked-in luggage was removed from the plane’s cargo hold and each suitcase and bag was weighed on a large scale outside the airport terminal door. The luggage was then returned to the plane. As we lined up in the terminal with our fellow passengers and waited to reboard the plane, there was another indication this would not be a routine flight. After each carry-on bag was inspected and each boarding pass was thoroughly scrutinized, passengers were asked, "How much do you weigh?" The line ahead of us moved slowly as the numbers were called off — 145, 270, 165, 230. Numbers were automatically recited in what appeared to be a surreal version of Bingo or Lotto. An overweight woman directly in front of us responded with a straight face, "100." Oh yeah, I remember thinking, and Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis will team up again. Then came our turn. "How much do you weigh?" The dark, piercing eyes of the female employee were fixed on mine. "Why do you have to know?" I responded, rather defensively. Apparently, she had fielded similar questions from weight-conscious mainlanders before. "See that runway out there?" I glanced out the window and saw the huge expanse of blue at the end of the concrete." If we don’t figure out the total weight of the passengers and their luggage, your plane might not take off before it reaches the end of that runway. It’s as simple as that. So, how much do you weigh?" I gulped before giving her my answer. Recalling that the woman in front of me had claimed she only weighed 100 pounds, I tried to imagine how many other passengers might have shaved several pounds off their actual weights. The word "plummet" seemed to be foremost in my thoughts. Drastic times often call for drastic measures. "I weigh 600 pounds", I answered. It wasn’t the first nor last time I would lie about my weight.