OWANA SALAZAR

Owana Salazar (above) came by for a visit today. What a talent! Ms. Salazar plays slack key (ki ho'alu) and steel guitar. She is an excellent vocalist, hula dancer, descendant of Hawaiian royalty, student of ethnomusicology from her days of University of Manoa, mother, great conversationalist...and much more. I learned as much from her as anyone I've interviewed for either print, television or radio.

It had been a while since we'd seen each other when we met up in June at the 60th wedding anniversary of our mutual friend, Don McDiarmid, Jr., at the Mid Pacific Country Club in Lanikai, here on Oahu's windward side. Owana spent more than three hours with us, sharing her music and stories. The lady has appeared throughout the islands and internationally. Her albums have been nominated for, and won, several Hoku Na Hanohano Awards, the Hawaii version of the Grammy. One of the most noteworthy is "Hula Jazz." The music on it is pretty much as described in its title.

Owana played and sang songs, ranging from those written by her, her mom and great grandmother. And everything from traditional Hawaiian tunes to "hapa haole" songs (those with English lyrics) from the 1940s, such as "South Sea Sadie," which was written by our friend McDiarmid's father back in the 1930s. As is the case with most sophisticated vocalists, Owana's repertoire is both eclectic and electrifying. Owana performed a full range of "The Great American Songbook," from Cole Porter's "Night And Day" to a pair of Joni Mitchell classics, "Big Yellow Taxi" and "Both Sides Now." The finale of our visit is her recorded version of the timeless "Hiilawe," made popular by Gabby Pahinui, which frames "Waterfall," a song composed by none other than Jimi Hendrix.

Our chat, punctuated by her songs, covered a spectrum as wide ranging as the music. From Owana's tune, inspired on New Year's Day 2003, while driving on Maui to buy sashimi, to a heavy dialogue about the political, psychological and planetary plight of native Hawaiians, past and present. Owana has been active in local civic groups and was quite involved in the 1970s, the start of The Movement: efforts for equal rights for those Polynesians who first populated these islands. Everything changed with the arrival of British sea captain James Cook, who set ashore on the island of Kauai in 1778. The "history" taught people of my generation, schooled in Hawaii in the 1950s, glossed over much of the grim realities of the effects of European influence. (We covered this topic in great depth in our session with activist Dennis "Bumpy" Kanahele last month).

Owana is a sensitive and articulate woman of Hawaii. She has never lost touch with her roots, while being in the moment. Charming, informed and with a sparkling personality, this lady is a revelation for those who only have a romanticized, "tourist" image of what is now the 50th State. It has been said that, "Aloha means 'hello, goodbye and I love you.'" But in my mental dictionary, looking up that word conjures up the visage and vision of Owana Salazar.

I've been privileged to know and spend time with scores of our local artists. I hope you have time to experience our visit with Owana. She is no ka oi, which is a phrase used hereabouts to describe The Very Best.

For more info about this special wahine, check her out on MySpace or visit her web site: http://www.owanasalazr.com/

The Owana Salazar session currently alternates with a three-hour program of "place songs," about the Big Island of Hawaii, from the still-small town of Hilo to the twin volcanic peaks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa.

FYI

Ain't been no blog for a bit.  Thanks to those of you who noticed.

Why no new written material?

Infernal construction has started up on adjacent property, messing with online connections.

More importantly, since this is a Mom & Pop Operation, without a Mom, even, I have been involved more than usual with the disgusting "operational and administrative" stuff. The not-so-glamorous-but-vital details required to keep the site going.

It is a Not For Profit entity.  (See "Mission Statement" link at the web site).  

Now back to the harsh realities of survival.  Hope you enjoy what is currently streaming: Visits with Melveen Leed and Ozzie Kotani, plus a music mix about the Big Island of Hawaii.

MAHALO!

RJ

OZZIE KOTANI

Ozzie Kotani (left, in 2006) and I first met, back in the 70s, as members of the Hawaii Historical Bottle Collectors Club, founded in 1970. It was a relatively small group, no more than a few hundred members on all islands. At the time, things were hyperactive. It could have easily been called "hysterical" as "historical". But certainly no more dedicated group existed. I've always thought that most serious collectors are insane, since their hobby can easily take over their life. (This might make no sense, unless you are a collector of anything, or know someone who is).

I obtained many of my bottles by hustling them. Often I spent as much time on my radio show pitching for bottles to trade (or in rare instances, actually buy) as I did doing commercials and the more serious things that paid the bills.

Early on, I realized the only way to not be overwhelmed by my obsession, was to focus on a specific genre. Which is how, over the course of two decades, I accumulated the world's largest collection of Antique Hawaiian Soda Bottles. Nowadays items on the ANTIQUE ROAD SHOW might "only" be a few dozen years old. When I was a kid, the standard definition of "antique" was something at least 100 years old. That was indeed the deal with old Hawaiian bottles, which, when research became more sophisticated, were dated as far back as the 1840s.

Given how much more the dollar was worth compared with today's plummeting "buck," some of the rarest bottles became expensive items. The amber colored, multi-side Hawaiian Soda Company bottle (right) once sold for over $1000, before more were unearthed, thus lowering their value.

There are two types of bottles, the original hand-made type, known as BIMAL (blown in mold, applied lip--what a phrase!) and ABM (automatic bottling machine). Bottles were made individually until the advent of machines, which went into production in the early 1920s. I could go on. And on. And on, about the details of all this, various trivia I accumulated over the years. I'll just wrap up this bottle bit with a few more facts about Hawaiian bottles, specifically those that contained "soda pop".

The value of most anything collectible is determined by two basic factors: Rarity and condition. Assembling a collection of Hawaiian bottles was a touch and go affair back when Ozzie Kotani and I met up. Unlike stamps, coins, sports cards and other items where the quantity made is known and indexed, no one for sure knew exactly how many bottles were made for use in the islands. (None of them were made here; the various components of glass, are not endemic to Hawaii). So all the bottles, whether made to contain milk, perfume, opium (from Asia), prescription drugs and, of course, soda. were imported. Most came from North America. Anyway, as should now be obvious, for that time of my life I was totally into collecting every soda bottle made for, and used in Hawaii. A thin volume, "Hawaiian Bottles of Long Ago" by Rex Elliot, published in 1971, was the only clue to what was made. After nearly a decade, dedicate local collector, Steve Gould, published a large-format, much expanded version of the book. It is the most comprehensive information available in one place about the subject, complete with a section of color plates that picture some of the most exotic specimens.

That book, however, deals only with BIMAL bottles. Hard facts about machine bottles are difficult to pinpoint. Didn't matter to me. I collected anything made of glass, which contained local brands of soda, through 1959, the year Hawaii became a state. Ozzie Kotani, on the other hand, collected anything "old" that caught his eye. He also spent most of his time in the field, actually digging, diving and hunting for bottles and other vintage stuff. It is sort of amazing that during Ozzie's visit we spent most of the time discussing his music and the field in general.

Ozzie brought with him an instrument that has always held a fascination for me" The dobro. Think of an acoustic guitar--except that the body is not made of wood, but rather metal. Highly chrome-finished metal. Ozzie's dobro is made by National, the premier maker of the things. How he acquired it was typical (and perfect) for a person who searches through muck, mud and trash for "treasures." A few years back, two of his buddies were driving around one night and spotted something glinting in the light. They went back to have a look. In a trash can they found a magnificent National dobro. One problem, the wood section, which made up the instrument's neck, was severely ravaged by termites, who had feasted on it over the years. Still, it was something, it was old, it was musical. So Ozzie's pals brought it to his house and presented him with the thing.

A little research by Mr. Kotani revealed that the dobro was indeed rare. And yes, the factory could rebuild the wood section like new. It was worth the time and effort. It came back from the factory in pristine condition (left), down to the word "National" inset in mother-of-pearl letters at the top of its keys. I'd seen just a few these gems. Several times in the 1960s, when I frequented "coffee houses," when the term described places where pre-hippies hung out, drank apple cider, played chess and listened to true "folk music". (Jeez, that seems like another lifetime; it was uncool to applaud when a song was finished, instead one snapped one's fingers). Seems to me there might have been some low-grade cannibis smoke mixed in with the tobacco smoke--how quaint.

Whew! After all that off-topic digression, I get to the point: Ozze Kotani was here today. He played his dobro--in slack key style. Ozzie is in the elite roster of ki ho'alu players assembled by George Winston for the Dancing Cat Records "Slack Key Masters" series. It is a small and distinguished group. In the year since we began webcasting from our living room studio in Kaneohe, many of these virtuoso players have visited and played live for us: Ledward Kaapana,

George Kahamoku, Jr., Dennis Kamakahi, Cindy Combs and George Kuo. We chatted with Keola Beamer, at home on Maui, and George Winston himself, one day while he was on tour, but trapped by a snowstorm in a motel. We've been trying to get Cyril Pahinui up here, but he lives on the Big Island. It will happen. Also trying to hook up with two other sons of the immortal Gabby Pahinui: Martin and James, better known as "Bla." Sonny Chillingworth, Leonard Kwan and Ray Kane have passed on.

And yesterday, Ozzie Kotani found time in his busy schedule to spend several hours with us. His "day job" is Registrar for the State Foundation of Culture and the Arts, which is headquartered in downtown Honolulu. By law, one per cent of Hawaii's tax revenues go towards the purchase of artwork, which is displayed at public venues. No small project. Much of Ozzie's "spare" time is spent sharing: He teaches slack key guitar and lectures on the subject. So during his time here we talked about that unique style of music, how he came to know and play it himself, and, of course, how he came into possession of the dobro he brought and played. He has yet to record with the instrument. I can't wait for him to release an album of just that: Slack key dobro.

Meantime, I'll drink my share of soda pop. From ordinary, contemporary bottles, mostly all plastic by now. In 1994 I had lost interest in my collection, by the largest of its kind. All the bottles were carefully packed away--a tedious process--and costing a pretty penny to store.

So I sold them all in one lot, over 600 bottles, if I recall. Not only did I enjoy them while I served as caretaker for the relics of days passed, I traced the glass containers back to many corners of Hawaii's history unknown to me. They also fetched a "pretty penny". How much? Well, put it this way: The proceeds from the sale paid for two years of my daughter's undergrad studies at Northwestern University. Which, as you might know, goes for quite a bit more than a five-cent deposit.

BIG ISLAND MUSIC

The two tall mountains on Hawaii, which is also known, with good reason, as The Big Island, are Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. They are the tallest mountains on earth when measured from the ocean's floor. The former has been dormant for eons. But Mauna Loa is the site of Kilauea volcano. On the rim of the fire pit, Halemaumau, sits the world famous lodge, The Volcano House.

Nearby is Pu'u O'o vent, which has been in a state of eruption since 1983. That's a lot of magma, mama. We were taught that Hawaiian volcanos are "rim flow, which means that the hot lava surges to the top of the rim and then flows makai, to the sea. These are spectacular to see, feel and smell. Often a lava flow can be a quarter-mile wide. It can rumble down the mountain side at speeds up to 20 miles an hour. Now that is something truly "awesome," in every sense of the word. When the red hot lava hits the ocean it sends boiling sea water up as high as 1500 feet into the air. 

In the past year, the Mauna Loa's volcanic activity has turned into the type it is not supposed to be: Explosive. The lava does not just crest and flow. It tosses chunks (some boulder-size) into the sky, often landing hundreds of feet from the vent. The increased activity has generated considerably more "vog," as the smoggy volcanic dust that it creates is known. This vog has become so dense that, when the winds blow their way, the vog travels to Mauai, and sometimes to the leeward side of Oahu, which includes Honolulu and Waikiki. This is the unleashed power of Nature on the Big Island, reaching up and out beyond its shores. Since the begining of time, Hawaiians have believed in the spirits that rule their land. None of them is more powerful than Pele, the fire goddess. As with everything else in Polynesian culture, the actions of the amakua (the demigods) are reflected in the changes they bring to life. land and sea.

The recent violent action at Pu'u O'o inspried me to assemble some of the songs inspired by the Big Island--and its volcanos. They are: Fires of Pele, Big Island Conspiracy; Ka Nani A'o Kilauea, Weldon Kekauoha; Volcano!, Peter Moon Band; Kilauea, Kuuipo Kumukahi; Big Island Medley, Ledward Kaapana & Ikona; Akaka Falls, Darlene Ahuna; Kilauea, Maile Serenaders; Pohukuloa, Ledward Kaapana: Mauna Loa, Mike Kaawa; E Aloha Mai E Pele, Billy Gonsavles; Honanau Paka, Ledward Kaapana & Ikona; I Iwi A O Hilo, Kawai Cockett; which is about the small town, Hilo, still the biggest "city" on the Big Island.

Then some songs about the "other" (east) side of the island: Kohala March, Robi Kahakalau; Kona Daze, Dennis Pavao; Love Hilo, Ernie Cruz, Sr.; No Kohala Kamakani Apa'apa'a, Lim Family; Pele Trilogy, Keola Beamer; Kona Kai Opua, Richard Kauhi; Mauna Loa, Genoa Keawe; Kona Wind, Ohta-San; Paniolo, Moses Kahumoku; Maikai Ka Makani Aloha, Makapuu Sand Band; Honaunau, Millicent Cummings; Kona, Kawai Cockett.

Back to Hilo, which has always inspired songwriters, located on a bay, with a view of the majestic mountains: Hilo March, Moana Chang; Hilo Rain, Kapena; Hilo One, Hookena; Waiomina, Na Mele O Paniolo; Big Island, Gordon Frietas; Moonlight In Hilo, Kahauanu Lake Trio; Kaulana O Hilo Hanakahi, Kalima Brothers: Paniolo Ona Slack Key, Barry Flanagan; Hilo E, Gabby Pahinui & Sons Of Hawaii; Hilo Rag, Dennis Kamakahi; Mauna Loa Street Slack, Ernie Cruz, Jr.; Hilo Hula, Holunape; Hilo Mosquito, Olomana; Paniolo Song, Millicent Cummings; Mauna Loa Blues, George Kuo; Hilo Hanakahi, Cyril Pahinui & Bob Brozman.

More songs about the mountains and the paniolo (cowboys) who roam Parker Ranch, one of the world's largest cattle ranges: Kaula Ili (The Lariat), Keola Beamer; Old Mauna Loa, Leonard Kwan; Beauty Of Mauna Kea, George Winston & Keola Beamer; Snows Of Mauna Kea, Jay Larrin; Mauna Kea, George Kainapau; Mauna Kea, Eddie Kamae & Sons Of Hawaii; The Slopes Of Mauna Kea, Aunty Agnes Malabey Weisbarth & The Makahu Serenaders; and Poliahu (The Mauna Kea Snow Goddess), Keola Beamer.

If you are reading this (and listening to these melodies) away from our islands, I hope you are able to visit the Big Island. The many dormant volcano flows that cover a landscape like nothing else on the planet, the hollow lava tube, some large enough to enter and walk through and the sight of the heaving, glowing lava rumbling down the mountain side and crashing into the Pacific is a once in a lifetime experience. As we say in Pidgin English: Try come!

FROM ANOTHER RON

It's nice to receive comments about our online startup on 7.7.07. I neglected to say that I got married, for the second time, on 7.7.07, at 7:07 p.m. That took place at the grand ballroom of my dear friends "Uncle" Tom and Sweetie Moffatt's classic kama'aina mansion, deep in upper Nuuanu Valley. Besides the Moffatts, the only others in the giant room with its tiled floors, fountain, huge beams and mezzanine, were Judge Jim Burns, who officiated, and photographer Alexis Higdon. There was no party, let alone a honeymoon. I had to be back on the air, doing the morning show at KKUA. The radio gig worked out well. The Moffatts are still among my closest friends, Sweetie being my "local" surrogate Jewish mother. The judge and Ms. Higdon continued their stellar careers. Wish I could say the same about the marriage, which came apart five years later.


But doing the radio thing (which began professionally in 1955, when Moffatt and I were Staff Announcers at KGU Radio), or variations of it, has been a constant in my life. So it's so very satisfying when I hear from a peer who gets what we are doing in the New Century. Many people chose to write me emails about the programming, or what is in this blog. I wish that they would use the "Comment" section provided. (It takes a bit to sign up. Clicking on the "Anonymous" button makes it simple, and one can sign one's name--or not--at the end of the message.) Here's one that came in, that I want to acknowledge, as it reminds me of things I've forgotten, and ties in the past with the present. Not to mention that it is from one helluva talented and nice guy, who I haven't seen or heard from since the funeral of a friend last year.


Hi Ron,


It was a great pleasure to read about Bumpy Kanahele. Until your blog I had only known what I could imagine from the Advertiser's headline. Reading is a skill I have found to take a lot of daily practice. At this stage of life I feel determined to get the good feelings that are the rewards of knowledge and accomplishments. You made me smile today as your words described your Kaneohe studio, a living room where I sat one afternoon and listened to you describe your dream, now 365 days old, dining on Sprite and Icee-Pops. You had invited me up to buy your KHJ book.


Rare is the night that one major scene in my dreams is not inside some radio studio, the likes of which only my dream could create and in waking at a sad loss to describe. I began this dream back on July 2, 1974 and it has been my only real passion. At least in that I feel fortunate that live deejaying is the sum of one's daily reads, lessons and activities, multiplied by the explosive thrill inside the headphones as you buddy up to John, Paul, Mick and Archie!

And this weekend, it seems that timing is good. I was cleaning my area downstairs in my home in Kailua and throwing out newspaper editorials meant to be read that now date five to eight years ago. I came across an article of yours that I had copied from somewhere. It was written about your immediate observations on your neighborhood and Kaneohe town below and the Kaneohe Marine Corp Air Base on the shoreline on this one early 4th of July morning, perhaps 2004. You wrote about your belief in this land we live, despite the mess. We will always rise and get better. Now I come to your site today because a friend emailed me to, "Click on the PodJockey.com link at WhodaguyHawaii.com. It's great!" Bam! And it's your first anniversary.

Thank you RJ! Mr. Jacobs. You are a source of motivation, excitement and real genius (without any 'uhs), 21 minutes! U Stud Jock Puppy! Aloha,

Ron Klohs ("The Real Ron O'Neil")
Dolphin Sound
KHNL NBC 8 & K5 The Home Team
Honolulu, Hawaii 96819

ONE YEAR: PAU

Pau is Hawaiian for finished. It was one year ago today when we launched Whodaguy Hawaii..

That happened on 7/7/07 at o700. Can you believe that was 365 days ago? "The luckiest day in 600 years," believed millions around the world, particularly in China, where that series of numbers, or centuries, or something, had a special meaning.

I want to post this 8670 hours exactly from the time we launched. (We based the time at 7:00 o'clock in the morning on the West Coast of the U. S. That was 4:00 a.m. here). Will put this up, and then add some thoughts after I have chance to digest them, and whatever is store for breakfast. Above is my original sketch of how we would reconfigure this small, two-bedroom "plantation-style" house into the "Worldwide Headquarters" of our online site, which has been heard in all 50 American states and more than 45 other countries. Some highlights of the past year:

The first person to come on mike, and say hello to his relatives in North Carolina, was Lt. Binford Strickland, USMC. I met Bin at the press conference we held at Windward Community College in April to introduce our neighbors to what we would be doing. Bin came by, discussed activities at Kaneohe Marine Base, where he is Assistant Public Affairs Officer and has been a supper supporter ever since ... I must also thank WCC Chancellor Angela Meixell for allowing us to hold our meeting there and also to recruit the interns who where invaluable to our transforming this place, with lots of heavy lifting, into what it is today ... The first professional musician to play here, on ukulele, was Roy Sakuma. He gave us details of his annual Ukulele Festival, which draws hundreds of players and thousands in the audience at Kapiolani Park ... Our first "expert" guest was John Heckathorn, editor of Hawaii magazine; food writer for Honolulu magazine and Honolulu Star-Bulletin columunist. On his second visit, Heck described his visit to the Big Island and a paniolo (cowboy) cookout. With slack key guitar music in the background, he described dining on sauteed beef testicles, also known as "mountain oysters."

Another Bulletin buddy,. music writer John Berger, has been here several times. First visit we discussed and played tracks from some of the better local CD's released in 2007. Recently, John was here the day after the 2008 Hoku Awards with his observations on the event, which he covered for the newspaper. Part of that show was a "Fashion Review" by the amazing and alluring Mihana. Then this talented singer, musician, composer and member of one of Hawaii's royal families, spent ninety minutes "talking story" and singing her songs and many written by her mother, Irmgard Aluli, composer of over 300 songs. Perhaps the most well-known is "Puamana," about the family home in Lahaina, Maui. Mihana began with a haunting chant in Hawaiian. It was a long overdue native blessing for this place and our efforts. Mihana was accompanied by a fabulous ukulele virtuoso, Greg Martin, who she had just met and never played with before. What a thrill: Seeing and hearing these two make music together. They played everything from Auntie Irmgard's classic "Boy From Laupahoehoe," which turned out to be the first thing Greg ever learned to play and sing, to Mihana's song about her husband, "Chuckie's In The Kitchen (Cookin' Teriyaki Chicken)"! I've been looking for material to release on a Whodaguy Records CD, with all profits going to charity, and that session may well be it.

Another fresh voice belongs to Millicent Cummings, who came by to play songs from her then unreleased album "Altar Native." Although the word "awesome" has been drained of meaning by overuse, it truly describes Ms, Cummings' talent as a singer-songwriter. She also plays wicked ki ho'alu (slack key) Hawaiian guitar ... I heard about her from Cindy Combs, a true slack key master, who lives in Hanapepe, Kauai. The two wahine met and played together on the Garden Island. Cindy, before coming up to the house, phoned from the Foodland Market to ask what I had in the cupboard. "Not much," I told her. She arrived with not only the salt and pepper, but also a chicken, vegetables and all the fixin's for a wonderful soup, which she made during the first hour of our interview. It was a cooking show in every sense of the word.

Hot music was also played by early guests David "Kawika" Kahiapo and Walter Keale. Their CD, as members of the group Kaukahi, won the 2007 Album of the Year Hoku. Their magic vocals and guitar artistry convinced me that there was something special about this place, and structure, for playing and recording music. Walt's version of "Waimanalo Blues" by Liko Martin, is unforgettable. (It can be heard both on one of our PodJockey.com podcasts and on the WhodauyHawaii MySpace site ... Most musicians who stopped by performed "Ku'u Home O Kahaluu," written by Jerry Santos for Olomana back in the 1970s. Its a tribute to the part of Oahu where he grew up ("...fishing o'opu in the mountain stream, riding hills on horseback.") Jerry is one of the two people I take visitors to see when they want to hear authentic, non-tourist Hawaiian music. (The other is Ledward Kaapana, who lives down the road and also came and played and sang in his unique, world class style). It took a while to coordinate Santos' visit, as he is always in demand, but it was well worth the wait. Aided by the "cough syrup" he brought with him, we had a rousing and memorable time.

We also visited, via phone, with the one and only Keola Beamer, who was at home on Maui. Reviewed his distinguished career as a composer, performer and, now, instructor. The most bizarre phone interview was with Hollywood triple-threat Cameron Crowe. We discussed how we first met, at KGB-San Diego in 1973, when he was still in his teens, all the way through his visits to Hawaii and love affair with the place. Cameron's imitation of me screaming directions at him, how to get to my house so we could be on time to see Led play in Hawaii Kai, made me think about not yelling quite a bit. Cameron's wife, the Great Nancy Wilson, heard the hollering from another room, and ran in, thinking he was being attacked. Last month, when Nancy and sister Ann appeared in a Heart show at Blaisdell Concert Hall, I had the chance to introduce Nancy to Ledward. Talk about a mutual admiration society. Nancy, one of the world's great guitarists (and composer of the Cameron Crowe film scores) also sent me a priceless gift not long after WDG began. She composed, played and sang a theme song, which we use every chance we get.

When I went back to L. A. in 1994 to work on the follow-up show to AMERICAN TOP 40 I saw that there was a tradition established when the AT40 studios moved to North Hollywood: All the artists who stopped by signed a wall that ran along a hallway at the ABC Radio studios. It was a treasure, beyond eBay in value. One day I heard the sounds of construction. The place was being remodeled. The masonry wall with all the Legends' autographs was reduced to dust. So, when two weeks before launching WDG I contacted artist Mark N. Brown to do a mural for one wall of the living room-turned-studio, I made sure that it was done on particle board. (I learned many years ago from my main mentor, Colonel Tom Parker, that "Anything good has to be removable, and ready to take with you by the end of the day.") So most everyone who has been here has signed our portable-when-need-be panels. Glancing at it, some of the names of our first year guests that I see are: Del Beazley, The Makapuu Sand Band, George Kahumoku, Jr., Melveen Leed, John Cruz, George Kuo, Danny Kaleikini, Desoto Brown, Makaha Sons, Puukea Nogelmeier, Leon & Malia, Ed Kaahea, Don Robbs, Herb Ohta, Jr. and others I can't read from a distance. We went to the home of Don McDiarmid, Jr., whose recollection are a virtual History of  Hawaiian Muisc. Oh yeah, Bart Dasilva, classmate of Barack Obama (Punahou 1979) who told us stories about Barry's teen years.

Those who we visited with on the phone include Honolulu Mayor Mufi Haneman, Kimo Kahoano, George Winston, Bob Shane, Buddy Fo, Marlene Sai, Henry DItz, Michael W. Perry, Charlie Tuna and others. Special thanks to two people who visited with their CDs and then helped me tremendously in other ways, based on their "daytime jobs," Teresa Bright and Paul Shimomoto. The "Credits" on our home page list many more folks who donated their time and talent to make this all happen. And a super-special mahalo to old friends who put their time and money where their hearts are: Kevin Gershan, Chip Monck, Ed Kanoi and Ernie Nearman. All his life, my dad told me, "There is nothing more important in life than good health and loyal friends." The past year certainly proves that, in ways that I cannot begin to describe in words.

CLAUDE HALL (1968)

For as long as I was in radio, everyone in the biz regularly read Billboard magazine. It dates back to sheet music and juke boxes, long before there were 45 r.p.m. records (or iPods), FM radio (or satellite broadcasting) and the rest of the "trade magazines" that followed (now mostly replaced wholly or in part by online editions).

The man we deejays and programmers turned to first in Billboard was Claude Hall (above). He was their radio editor. But more importantly, he wrote the weekly column called "Vox Jox." Back in that day, being recognized in print in Claude's column was the big deal for anyone in radio. It was totally democratic. Radio folks, from the biggest like Allen Freed and Murray the K. in New York, to some guy in Armpit, Oklahoma, were acknowledged if they did anything of note. I was mentioned in his column a few times before arriving at KHJ, Los Angeles. By then, Billboard had moved from New York City to an office building on the Sunset Strip. Smack in the middle of bigtime Hollywood. And the first writer to notice us upstart underdogs was Claude Hall. He went on to report on Boss Radio's progress, and was always most kind in his mentions of yours truly.

Claude, who is as prolific as any writer I know, and perhaps the most knowledgeable about radio, has two online features that run in Radio Daily News.com, published by Larry Shannon in Texas. In the left-hand column, Claude, also a hard core native of the Lone Star state, writes an ongoing novel. Sometimes I suspect it is, as they say, "thinly veiled." And why not? The man has had his share of adventures. On the opposite side of the page, Claude has been writing daily remembrances and observations since before they were called "blogs." I recently dropped him a note about something he wrote. This is what he then posted in his column:

Ron Jacobs, who I refer to mostly these days as the Hawaiian radio guru, has been doing some blogging. Good stuff, too, He recently emailed me for my, "...version of how I pinch hit for Bill Drake at Billboard's First Radio Forum, pleasing the apprehensive Lee Zhito, justifying your faith in me and setting up the future relationship of the magazine and AMERICAN TOP 40".

"It was a milestone for me, one of several for which I have you to thank. I thought I was home free making the speech, had the crowd in the palm of my hand, when a damn Bar Mitzvah band on the other side of our stage started up just as I was going into my big finish. 93/KHJ, segue to 'Havah Nigilah'! Warm aloha."

I don't remember the Bar Mitzvah band, Ron. Wish I'd thought of it! Sounds like a great flourish with which to end a speech.

What I do remember--and vividly--is that you made me look good! Lee Zhito had nothing to do with any of the 10 forums and after four I did them alone. Planning, organizing, conducting. Zhito once, after he was made publisher, reneged on making me editor-in-chief (he kept the job for himself). Told me he usually had 250 people a month applying for my job. If those people had really known my real job description (you know, the one they never put down on paper), bet that number would have dropped to one or two a month.

Now let's return to the first forum, held at the New Yorker Hotel in New York City. My intention was to place four outstanding men on a panel at the opening session. George Martin, producer of the Beatles; legendary radio man Gordon McLendon; Bill Drake, gaining attention as consultant for KHJ in Los Angeles; and Art Linkletter, whose daughter had recently stepped out of a window thinking she could fly (we had many anti-drug abuse programs at the forums). Then Robert Kennedy was killed and Drake phoned and said he had to stay with his station during this national crisis.

I was extremely disappointed. Bill Drake had sort of been a coup. He was known to be reclusive, told me he was reclusive and didn't like to talk in front of people. I'd persuaded him at long length to appear. Then, viola! He was not coming. Nothing I could say would change his mind. But he was sending me Ron Jacobs the program director of KHJ. I had three of the biggest names in the world of media...and a guy I'd never met.

So I'm standing there where the opening session is to take place and this guy in a Brooks Brothers suit and tie appears and introduces himself as Ron Jacobs and asks how long I wish him to talk. Now, I'm still teed off at Bill Drake. Then and now, I suspect that Drake had no intention of appearing. With a touch of sarcasm, I say "21 minutes." Ron thanks me and leaves. When he returns, he's in a Nehru jacket with medallions, sort of a typical uniform of the hip at the time.

Ron Jacobs was phenomenal! I became an instant fan. Still am. Impressive isn't the correct word to describe his talk. He never said one "uh." He spoke for 21 minutes. Dynamic talk about radio. A beginning, a middle, and an ending. Clear. Concise. Pithy! Ever since that day, I've been grateful to Bill Drake for not showing up.

Later I went on to do interviews with both Drake and Jacobs. These were printed in the book, "This Business of Radio Programming." (Danoday.com) Bill Drake may be one very smart SOB. I do not know. But Ron Jacobs is without question one of the brightest people I've ever met. In radio or out. And there's more to the man than that. There's fiber. A sense of ethical fairness. About four or five years ago, something came up concerning a matter, which I'd forgotten over the years. Not Ron. He remembered. That impressed me. I can see now why he had and has so many loyal friends.

A lot of good radio men have come and gone. But right now, in my opinion, we have four national living treasures in radio. In alphabetical order, so as to not have to rank them, they are Chuck Blore, Kent Burkhart, Ron Jacobs and George Wilson. Good radio men.

Thanks much for including me in such an auspicious group, Claude. All I can add to your recollection of that day, 40 summers ago, is that KHJ promotion manager Mitch Fisher was with me on the trip to NYC and the Forum. We indeed suited up in Nehru jackets and "love beads" before going down to the ballroom and my speech. I was in a black silk coat, Mitch was wearing a brown one. Mitch, having nothing to do other than observe, smoked a joint before we left the room. I, of course, could do no such thing. Had a strict rule of not mixing business with pleasure. Never, ever did, believe it or not.

We waited for the elevator, high above Manhattan, on the umpteenth floor of the ritzy hotel. The elevator door opened. Inside were five nuns. In full habit. Mitch and I stood at the front of the elevator, facing forward, trying to ignore reality. "How are you today, fathers?" asked the sisters of us, two Jews in Gandhi garb. Mitch tried to conceal a snarfle-snort. Would he erupt in laughter before we reached the lobby? I have no idea exactly what I said. I think I got through it without laughing loudly at the absurdity of it all. The dear ladies had no idea of the trip they put us through.

All I know is: After that encounter much of the anxiety and apprehension about what I was about to do disappeared. I was rushing on the pure adrenaline of a successful escape from disaster. If my talk was a success, all I can say all these years later, is "Hallelujah, Praise the Lord!"

ANUENUE (HAWAIIAN FOR "RAINBOW")

"Where I live there are rainbows

With the laughter of morning

And starry nights.

Where I live there are rainbows

With flowers full of color

And birds filled with song.

I can smile when it's raining

Touch the warmth of the sun

I hear children laughing in this place

In this place that I love."

Those are lyrics to "Hawaiian Lullaby," written by Hector Venegas. Peter Moon wrote the melody. His group, Sunday Manoa, recorded the song in the 1970s. It's become a standard, recorded and often sung ever since.

My friend Hector--I met him way back, when he was an advertising salesman--wrote the song for his daughter, Krista. Hector has said: "The song evolved from the situation of my daughter's life ... her life-threatening illness. I was extremely broken-hearted." As a young girl, Krista was recovering from a long battle against bacterial meningitis. Putting his feelings on paper helped Hector deal with the emotions--fear, anger and resentment--to love, he says. "I needed to turn my negative thoughts into positive ones I wanted to see things in a different light."

Things worked out. Krista, now 37, works at Easter Seals as a Youth Services Program aide, giving back to the agency that provided her services as a child.

I write about all this for several reasons. First, it's a story with a happy ending, one that has endured. Second, Hector and his family are representative of the "rainbow" of people who populate Hawaii Nei. And, third, "Hawaiian Lullaby" remains, and resonates, with meaning that transcend its creation.

Growing up, this place was called "The Melting Pot of The Pacific." Race was not an issue. I was color-blind when it came to ethnicity. All the kids around me reflected the many countries from which the settlers to these shores came. The population comprised a "rainbow," in the Rev. Jesse Jackson's concept of the word: A unity of souls rather than skin color.

As I thought about the meaning of the Fourth of July, that idea kept coming back. Words such as, "freedom, independence, liberty" are of little value when merely that: Just words on a document. Real battles were fought, actual human blood shed, to achieve America's sovereignty. To those of us who learned of those events in the 1770s in history books, the recent HBO special brought to life John Adams and all those alive at the time who made it happen. There was no little sacrifice involved. The TV series "brought to life" the events that enable us, as Americans, to live as we do today.

It has never been perfect, or anywhere close to it, since then. But, the easiest way to learn that this is the best of all systems in the history of civilization is to live in a "foreign" country for a while. Just as folks from Hawaii need to spend some time on the mainland to be convinced that this, in our opinion, is the best of all the United States in which to live. And we're not alone, judging from those whose dream it is to live in "Paradise."

I could be the first to tell you about what is wrong with Hawaii 2008. But little, if any, of our problems do not exist throughout the land. While people are the chief source of much of what is not right, we are blessed to live, as Hector wrote, "in this place that I love."

If you are reading this, chances are you are listening to what is currently streaming on WhodaguyHawaii.com. The host, yours truly, is of Eastern European ancestry, by way of grandparents who immigrated through Ellis Island at the turn of the 20th century. I was conceived, best as I know, somewhere between the birth places of my parents, which were Hempstead, Long Island and New Brunswick, New Jersey. My dad's store burned down when my mom was hapai (pregnant) at the halfway mark. They made the adventurous move to Honolulu, first driving a new Dodge across country to San Francisco. Then they put themselves, the auto, and the embryonic me aboard a Matson liner and set sail across the Pacific. They were living in Waikiki, in the now-tumultuous corner of Seaside and Kuhio, when I was born at Queen's Hospital.

My right-hand person since I started this project is Edmund Villaruel. He is of Filipino ancestry. His parents' people were in the wave of those who came from the opposite direction as mine: West, from the Philippines. I first met Ed in 1976, when he was a teenager hanging out at KKUA. He progressed up the radio chain, eventually going on the air at that station. When I moved to Waipahu, Ed's home town, and KDEO Radio, Ed was experienced and talented enough to be our program director. He then spent some time learning and experiencing the biz in Southern California. Then he put in his time on our neighbor islands of Hawaii and Kauai. Back in Honolulu and on the air, Ed was recently voted Most Popular Radio Personality in the annual readers' poll conducted by the morning paper.

Our featured guest, Dennis "Bumpy" Kanahele, is one of a shrinking number of full-blooded native Hawaiians. Bumpy can trace his origins to before the rule of Kamehameha The Great. I've had the pleasure to know, interview, write about and associate with many folks born here. No one I know of locally has lead a more, diverse, interesting and exciting life. No need to write about it. Bumpy goes into it in detail. with some never-before-told stories, on our current Holiday Edition of WDG. Point is, his Hawaiian roots add another tinge to the spectrum of those represented on the program now running.

The young folks singing and chatting with us belong to the new group, Manoa Voices. They earned a contract with Hula Records as winners of a prestigious choral competition. Founder and musical director of the group is Chadwick Pang. He is one of the many Chinese-Hawaiians who have contributed so much to this place over the centuries. To give it the required twist, although born and now living back here on Oahu, Chad spent much time growing up in, of all places, Aloha, Oregon. We talk about that during his visit.

With him is a young lady born in Brooklyn, New York. Rosanna Perch's father was from Barbados. Her mom is from Hawaii, Nanakuli on the leeward side of this island. Rosie moved to Hawaii to stay at an early age. She attended Punahou School, which seems to gather even more stature as people learn that is where Barack Obama spent his school years, graduating from there in 1979. Both Barry and Rosie are of part African descent, each with mothers who gave them a unique background and point of view, one much of us are denied.

The other member of their group in town for the summer--they are all students or post-grads of the University of Hawaii, Manoa--is Justin Ku'upu. He was born on the Big Island of Hawaii. After going to several schools there, with a stop on Maui, he finished up at Kamehameha School, up in Kapalama Heights. To go there one must be at least one-half Hawaiian. Justin brings the schools' spirit of imua (forward!) to his singing and acoustic bass playing.

So there are some biographicals about those who contributed to our Independence Day Weekend programming. From them you will learn some of the history of Hawaii's music: Chad teaches ethnomusicology. The others are his former students. Bumpy knows Hawaiian history from long before the Americans arrived. He is an activist in the truest sense of the word. Some here consider him controversial, very few know of his extensive background of community service and his specific vision for a Hawaiian Nation.

When we launched this website on July 7, 2007 our stated Mission was: To spread the culture of the aina around the World. May the Music flow to wherever the Four Winds blow.

That is our goal with everything we produce and present. But besides the melodies and information currently streaming, we hope you note, "The flowers full of color," as Hector Venegas wrote in "Hawaiian Lullaby," represented by those who do this, a combined effort of love and aloha, for you, online around the world.

PROGRAM UPDATE

The Whodaguy Hawaii First Anniversary & Holiday Special

IS NOW STREAMING

Dennis "Bumpy" Kanahele, his life, times and 

thoughts about Hawaiian sovereignty ...

plus Manoa Voices, a fresh new sound, the youth of the aina.

The two programs will alternate throughout the July 4 weekend.

HAVE A HAPPY & SAFE HOLIDAY and

MUCH MAHALO FOR YOUR SUPPORT SINCE WE BEGAN

ON 7/7/07

WITH A BANG!

As we head into the long July 4th weekend of 2008, people are doing the usual things: Trying to pack a week's work into four days, planning for picnics and luau at our beaches and parks, stocking up on refreshments and, for those who do the paperwork, buying the many types of fireworks still legal and available in Hawaii.

Fireworks have always been big here. I remember their whooshing, whistling and whomping from "small kid time." It has to do with the early arrival of the Chinese, who invented gunpowder and still use fireworks to celebrate just about anything. As I type this the pops and pows are jumping into the otherwise silent neighborhood. On occasions such as the Fourth, or New Year's Eve, the clatter turns into a steady din, and then the sustained roar of the bombs, rockets and other aerial explosions that drown the night in sound, leaving a metallic gunpowder hangover in the air for hours after, depending on the trade winds, or lack of them.

For a few days afterwards, the ground is littered with the detritus of celebration: Spent red firecracker wrappers, empty projectile shells, all the launch devices that caused the sky to light up in a panoply of pyrotechnics. And, there are always the fires and injuries caused by those playing with fire. In spite of endless public service announcements and best efforts by the great Honolulu Fire Department, people always do dumb and/or drunk things.

Things have settled down compared with decades past. Perhaps there's one too many war veteran not anxious to hear explosions of any type, never again. Maybe its because we've become more couch-bound potato chip eaters, stuck in a room, watching the flat screens that replaced "The Tube." And, of course, there are the fantastic annual celebrations televised from Boston's Charles River and Washington, D. C. to name two of the biggest.

Last night I viewed a one-hour documentary on our PBS-TV station. Everything about fireworks: Their history, first in China, then Italy. A British scientist explaining the basics; what causes which sound, which compounds create the variety of colors. The role of fireworks in societal, religious and national events. Gun powder is as rooted in civilization as bread and water now.

The TV show documented "The First Family of Fireworks," then, a corporation (with an explosive name) that produced lavish, precision spectacles and, also, a guy in Seattle, a web designer, who in his spare time becomes "Fire Boy." This dude spends weeks making hand-loaded fireworks, then attaches them to something that resembles a space suit, puts on the fireproof and heat-resistant inner wear worn by race drivers and blows it all up in a one-minute whirling, flaming, feverish dervish, during which he moves around like he's been given the all time "hot foot." The "only" real injury this fiery daredevil suffered, he said, was when a charge backfired on his neck.  "It felt like a blow torch for a few minutes," according to this missile-minded masochist.

Down at Kaneohe Marine Base the Fourth of July has become, over the years, literally, a big blast. The Marines do things right. The public is invited aboard the base, the biggest Marine installation outside North America. Entertainers of all types perform, and a really big show, in the sky lights up the night of the Fourth of July. On the "town side" of the island, Ala Moana Park is where it happens biggest. Thousands fill the beach, the park and the giant mall parking lot to watch the overhead spectacular.

Back in 1976, KGB Radio "launched" its first annual Sky Show. It was the one of the early major fireworks displays programmed to music broadcast to the 200,000-plus FM radios that blasted away in synch with the explosions. Now, according to the documentary I watched, no commercial fireworks show is done without meticulous computer programming calling the rapid-fire shots.

What blew me away the most, however, in watching the people, places and things in last night's film were daytime street scenes, which showed amongst all the activities, gas stations--and their signs. The price of gas was $2.17 a gallon. I couldn't get off that through the remainder of the program, waiting for the final credits. The show was made in 2002, six years ago. For sure a time when Americans got more bang for a buck.

DENNIS KEIKI "BUMPY" KANAHELE

Since Friday is July 4, 2008, Independence Day in America, our guest will be one of the most Hawaiian of Hawaiians that I know, Bumpy Kanahele.

He can trace his ancestry back to before King Kamehameha The Great, through generations of the Polynesians who first inhabited these Islands. Bumpy's great-grandfather, Frank Samuel Keiki was a member of the delegation that traveled by ship, then by rail, to Washington, D. C in 1894. The group went to the U. S. Capital, seeking to return Queen Liliuokalani to the throne of the Kingdom of Hawaii. They were denied by President Grover Cleveland and the congress. It is a matter of record that the sovereign state of Hawaii was overthrown, without a shot being fired, by members of the U. S. Marines, who marched up the steps of Iolani Palace and imprisoned the queen in the palace attic. This was done at the behest of the haole (Caucasian) plantation owners, anxious to protect their land holdings. Since then, native Hawaiians have claimed that their land was illegally taken from them. 

On the original "Day of Infamy," December 7, 1941, Bumpy's grandfather, ???, was on Niihau, an island occupied only by pure Hawaiians. A stray Japanese kamaze pilot, straying west of Oahu and Pearl Harbor, crash landed on the small island, off Kauai. The pilot got out of his Mitsubishi=powered suicide plane and pulled out his .45 pistol. Kanahale marched towards him, unarmed, wearing only a malu around his waist. Five bullets later, though seriously wounded, the Hawaiian had wrestled the invader to the ground and bashed in his head. For this, Kanahele was awarded the first medal given to a civilian in World War II.

Dennis got his nickname from his dad. His father was a "tough guy" who hung out in the downtown section of Honolulu, by the docks. Legend has it that one day while in the street he was hit by a car. The result, according to local lore? The automobile bounced back. Thus, "Bumpy" Kanahele, senior.

Bumpy was born on July 1, 1954. He attended several local schools, played football, but was also "very independent." After working several jobs, but frustrated by the lack of progress by the Hawaiian people for100 years, Kanahele formed a group of 300 that inhabited the Makapuu area of Oahu, on the beach near Waimanalo. This was controversial, to say the least. But it was Kanahele's way of expressing the freedom and resistance to the status quo that had erupted throughout the mainland. The 15-month seige ended when Kanahele was offered a parcel of land in Waimanalo mauka (in the mountains.) There, he and his followers built Pu'honua 'O Waimanalo, a 45-acre Hawaiian cultura village. Kanahele and his ohana (extended family), starting with nothing, built a habitable area from the ground up. There is no more Hawaiian place in these islands.

A full biography of Bumpy Kanahele, his achievements and goals, is located at his website. We have the link to the right of this column. There you will read of Bumpy's tireless efforts on behalf of Hawaii's people and his fight to bring them fair and equal justice.

Once, during one of my interviews with the late Don Ho, we discussed the issue of Hawaiian independence. The issue: Hawaiian lands in native hands. Don was a wholehearted supporter of such efforts, always working steadfastly, albeit behind the scenes. He was not optimistic about the prospects of his people coming together, unified in their efforts to gain back some of their land. Don Ho saw the problem as infighting amongst the groups striving for Independence. He cited as a metaphor hukihuki, crabs clawing at one another to climb out of a container, in so doing, preventing a single one to reach the top.

Buimpy Kanahele has tried in several ways to overcome this obstacle. Last month he made headlines in Honolulu papers, announcing a call for a ballot vote that would allow for the formation of a group to pursue the goals originally sought by his great=grandfather and the generations of native Hawaiians who followed. "We must act now," Kanahele proclaimed. He then listed his reasons for caling together a Hawaiian Constitutional Convention. The details of this are among the many items documented at BumpyKanahele.com.

President Bill Clinton was one of many international leaders who have recognized the leadership abilities, the integrity and the motives of Bumpy Kanahele. And I, for certain, are proud to call him my brother and friend. Today we begain producing our own Independence Day Special. On it, I will discuss candidly with Bumpy his life and future goals. In the spirit of the American Revolution, Hawaii's fight for equality fostered its own music. This began in the "Hawaiian Renaissance" of the early 1970s. During our show we will play some of the anthems, which have become the enduring call for "Hawaii Loa Ku Liki Kakou" (All Hawaii Stand Together.)

I hope you have a chance to listen during the Fourth of July holidays. You will hear the story of the real Hawaii: How it began and, hopefully, where it is headed.