I'm with you, Denby.  Back in hanabata days, if it was a big mango season those paper bags would have to be sneaked onto your neighbors' porches in the dead of night, on tiptoe so as not to wake up their dog (or rooster).  Then the morning after that, you might be able to recognize some of the mangoes that showed up in the bag on YOUR porch.  

Having lived in Kaimuki, Palolo, Aina Haina, Mo'ili'ili and Kalihi, I've never had to go without neighborhood mangoes.  I hate to think of a new generation coming up that won't be able to make a quick dash into a neighbor's yard while walking home after school, and grabbing a mango off the ground to enjoy for a squishy, drippy snack.

And what would we ever do if we hadn't been given the classic lyric:  

"What!  Lucille!  You goin' leave me now?!
Da kids neva eat yet, mango season not pau! ..."

Oh wow, laulau!