HEAVYWEIGHT, HAWAIIAN STYLE

Neil Abercrombie is proof that all politicians aren't scum, scammers or scandalous sociopaths.

He's one of those "Coast haole" who arrived here along with statehood--50 years ago-- next year. Neil slid right in. 

Today's discussion ranged all over the place, given our mutual proclivity to converse with the abandon of bungee jumpers cursed with blind faith. Will we always land with our head in one piece and a coherent thought to show for the trip? 

When Hawaii's senior congressman gets wound up, he turns CSPAN into a verbal MMA. And I can almost hang in with him myself, having managed to feed my mouth while running it hard since I dropped out of high school and became a deejay at the age of 17.

About that time, Honorable Mr. Abercrombie was freezing in his hometown, near Buffalo, NY, but keeping hot with the first rock'n'roll song to hit Top 40 radio, "Rock Around The Clock" by Bill Haley & The Comets.

So, though we knew it not back then, the lawmaker and I had, and still do, share much in common. We both love Barack, loathe Bush and vilify victimless criminal crime sentences. We're a pair of hirsute, anti-war, hippie throwbacks, quite content with Old School pursuits like reading books, grooving to Hawaiian ki ho'alu guitar music, sucking on see moi and going nuts with nostalgia over anything about this island that predates our septuagenarian souls. But rattle our cage and it's another matter--and pulse rate--entirely. In a Tag Team Talk Tussle, I'd choose Neil as a partner right at the coin toss. If he's in town.

It's one thing to drop into D.C. by train along the "Eastern corridor."  Or jet in from a time zone or two away.  Each one way trip to or from his offices spans an ocean, a continent and even greater gap in culture, sensibilities, societal surges and, most of all, just about every climate condition known to your most finicky weather person.  From white sand to driven snow, from shave ice (with syrup, in a cone) to roads so frozen they can spin you faster than a lobbyist on jet skees. 

In D.C. they have the Redskins. In Waikiki we have the tan skins. Over there it's the Washington Monument as erect testimony to soaring egos and cerbral balls. Close by a high cliff on Molokai stands that ancient symbol of organic Viagra, the Phallic Rock of Namanhoa

Congressman Abercrombie's trusted corner man and isle media war vet, Randy Obata, provided me a list of the congressman's favorite local artists. When the dialog got a bit too rowdy, the songs float by like swans in a tsunami. Speaking of storms, the political storms. Neil swears this will be his Last Washington Waltz in. Maybe Randy will replace him in our nation's capital. In the White House. To listen to him talk, he'd just come home to his lovely wife Nancy and their home up in Manoa Valley. He'd love to get a day job as skipper of his "own" tug.

I've followed Neil's career since I came back home in 1976. He's the rare Mainlander who slid  into the local politcal puddle but did not get sucked under. Or suckered into the more byzantine behavior of Beretania Street bureaucrats. Unlike the view from afar, this ain't no lazy tropical isle inhabited by coconut crackers, mai tai mixers and stoned surfers. Yeah, there once was a time, back in the day when a nut, drink or board could be quickly dealt with, without making a deal. Hawaii politics are tough. Not contact sport. It's more like cock fighting, pitting stuffed shirts threatening one another with vetoes, resolutions and contempt--of both the emotional and litigious types. 

You don't push around someone like our man Abercrombie. His hobby is bench pressing his age. Plus 200 pounds. "It's a totally pointless pursuit," he says. And at 70 he can still do it. He can easily clean up any 270-pound jerk who gets in his way on the the House floor.

Neil's pushed so hard for  constituents so hard that there's a tugboat named after him. It shoves steamships around Honolulu Harbor. Tell me your rep in Washington has one of those. For the past seven days the Man From Manoa has been pushing the candidacy of Waikiki-born and Oahu raised Barack Obama. Neal is honorary chairman of the presumptive Democratic nominee in "Barry's" home town state.

Neil spent this past week watching Barack's brood visit the average family's tourist spots. Sure, he put on shoes--Yech!--for a ritzy dinner at the Kahala Resort on Thursday. He made more friends, if that's possible, and added more kala to the budget required to combat outlandishly loathsome lies about him puked up by the opposition. (If  Obama was "taught in a Muslim school," then what were those weekly Protestant chapel services we both attended, in separate decades, at "prestigious," pricey, private Punahou, founded by Christian missionary's in 1841?)

OK, so if Sen. Obama is a liberal, then Rep. Abercrombie is a self-combusting radical. Crazed and kooky? He chairs committees that serve our servicemen, prop up the poor and help patch up this eight-year farce that's almost taken America over the edge.  The men and women serving at Marine Base Kaneohe, down the hill and across the bay, appreciate.  He got them $40 million for badly needed new barracks and housing.

Hell, some right wing "watch dog" group rated Neil's voting record a fat zero. But he must be doing something right. Rep. Abercrombie was reelected in 2006 with 69% of votes cast for the United States House of Representatives in Hawaii's First District.

The dude can bench press me! Like, my age plus 200 pounds. I invite you to take a listen to the Neil Abercrombie interview now streaming on Whodaguy Hawaii. You'll hear a real person, ladies and gentlemen.  Check out the photos on the home page. Same guy in a coat and tie the tangle of our nation's capitol, or in the aloha shirt he wore up here today in our hill country jungle. You might want to put down a few bucks on him as the next Governor of Hawaii while the odds are long for 2010.

Not that he's running for that office. In fact, not once during our visit did he mention that he's on the ballot as a candidate for the House in November. How cool is that, brah? 

BLOG IN A FOG

Da Guy & Two Bears, August 12, 2008

It's been flattering that some of you have noticed the recent dearth of blogs.

Much of this is because of the shifting priorities in my life. And my basic impatience with using a keyboard to communicate. And I have been having a good share of enjoyment in doing my usual, unpredictable, day-to-day things -- always full of mind-blowing surprises. (As the immortal Booga Booga once said: "Garans Ball Bearin's'" on that!)

I am so blessed with the three things that my dad, when he was around my age, often repeated to me. He did this so often, in a manner so frequent that it was irritating. Me? No less guilty of the same behavior. Those who know me best will confirm this in a Makawao Minute. What is important is the absolute truth in the Old Man's maxims: In life, there's nothing better than good health, trusted friends and good karma (which he called "fate.")

Shooting blank blogs is unfair to anyone who bothers to check out this spot. There's no way to really know who or how many of you there are. Posted comments have been scant. Email sent to me directly at rj@hawaii.rr.com has been interesting. Most are sublimely rewarding. Fellow trivialists continually amplify my factoid file. I try to answer, when time allows, those emails that push hot buttons or ask interesting questions.

So I apologize for this Blogospheric Dead Air. The ono audio continues to run non-stop at the home page. Positive response by users, participants and "media" continues to grow. For that, I am most grateful. Certainly more than I can express, sitting here in the flat silence of a one of the most hazy Hawaiian mornings I've ever peered out into.

Hey, I just might reappear in yet another media incarnation, so, if you care, keep your eyes and ears open.

Perhaps I can get down my takes on everything from Barack being in the hood, to the infernally contrapuntal relationship of the current Olympics to real time Reality, some sweet books, compelling TV, new friends (like Two Bears, above), old buddies (like Art Astor, "The Armenian Dick Clark"), newer nice people (like Quiet Marc Shoenitzer) and new persons (like Maika'i Pono Cummings, born Monday morning). Plus everything going on behind the scenes at the ol' web site.

Mahalo to all who do read this, or, better yet, listen to what we've been streaming, Right now I'm listening to a summer rerun of one of our very best visits, featuring my favorite local singer-songwriter, Jerry Santos, and other stuff. I haven't seen Congressman Neil Abercrombie, he will be here tomorrow. I haven't seen him this century. He's a super delegate to the Democratic convention. I will question him regarding his thoughts on the foggy VP race. And suggest all-Hawaiian Obama-Akaka ticket.

So, in a concerto of cliches, I say: "Stay tuned," "The best is yet to come," "You ain't seen (or heard) nothin' yet," "Wish you were here," "Buy American" and "Loose lips sinks ships -- but have other equally enticing applications."

Fact is, I am engaged in a new project, of an entirely different type, which has a time frame that

runs a few more months.

Now back to my less idle pursuits and some lethal pao duce (Portuguese sweet bread), baked

fresh daily in Kailua, where, about now, the cool presumptive dude is running along the beach along North Kalaheo Avenue.

A hui hou from here in bee-yoo-tee-full Hawaii, celebrating our 49th birthday on August 21, 2008.

The management reserves the right to blog at any moment, as events or whims dictate.

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