Unbalanced thinking

Yesterday was Lei Day in Hawaii. This has been a great celebration since sometime in the 1920's, and almost every school has a celebration of it, many of which are very spectacular, all of which are filled with love and aloha. (Aloha is a very real thing, not just a Hawaiian metaphor.)For the last 30 years the Brothers Cazimero have had a huge concert at the Waikiki Shell on May 1st to celebrate Lei Day, filled with aloha.

Last night I was there and watching the show was like watching a horrible accident occurring in slow motion. These guys are consummate performers, and the show should have been excellent and beautiful, but it spun terribly, horribly out of control.

There were glitches from the beginning, but nothing you couldn't overlook. For example one of the beautiful young hula dancers was introduced as "...a mother and a grandmother..." Significant accomplishments for a girl who looked 19. The intro was meant for another hula dancer who appeared 3 or 4 dancers later. Not a big deal, kind of amusing. But then there was continuing confusion about what year we were in... 2005? 2006? 2007? We never did clearly establish that.

Nevertheless the first half of the show was good and well done and moving, all that stuff. Intermission was good too. More than one woman used the men's restroom, like they do, and we men all teased them about the requirement that they leave the seat up, friendly inter-gender cammeraderie.

So far so good. Then quickly downhill in a major way.

A few weeks ago one of Hawaii's beloved entertainers, Don Ho, passed away. The second half of the show was to have been a tribute to him, featuring his music and friends. Oh Jesus.

About 3 songs in Don Ho's relatively young widow made what was apparently a surprise appearance to dance a hula in his honor. She is a very slight woman and a good dancer. But when she appeared, all was not well. The huge crowd watched in stunned silence as this poor lady lurched, recovered, staggered backwards, fell over, rose to her feet, lurched, fell over again. It was excruciating to watch. I was terrified that she would fall off the stage. As soon as it was clear that something was terribly, terribly wrong Robert Cazimero abandoned his bass and tried to catch her before she fell again. He failed. She fell backwards onto the stage and rolled over to push her way up again. Two young men entered stage right and helped her off, she on an angle and reluctant to go.

It didn't end there. While she was leaving and Robert was staring after her, obviously deeply concerned, brother Roland began to play and sing Don Ho's trademark, Tiny Bubbles. It may or may not have been fair. I like to think it wasn't but it galvanized one of her friends to walk onto the stage and take the microphone in order to defend her. His name is Kimo, and he is also a friend of the Cazimero's. In a passionate but semi-articulate way he pronounced her the finest woman in the world, more woman than any man could ever hope for because, well because "she was with Don Ho through all this..." I assume he was referring to his death, not her dance.

So far I think the audience was sympathetic, genuinely concerned, and engaged, with aloha. Then Robert reached out to take the microphone from Kimo, and Kimo pulled it away. He began to sing a Don Ho song. The Cazimeros gamely figured out the key and accompanied him. Then Kimo moved not-so-seamlessly into another song, the Cazimeros struggling to stay game and to be okay with it. At the third song Robert reached for the mike again, Kimo pulled free again. "Get off my stage!" shouted Robert, maybe four or five times, reaching for and failing to get control of the mike. "Give me that mike, dammit!" And on it went until Kimo was damned good and ready to hand back the mike.

Finally he did. Robert and Roland (gamely) allowed him to hug them (warmly) before he left the stage. Robert repeated over and over "This is one May Day I'm not gonna forget..." He had the house lights turned up, had all the audience members look around to get a picture - mental or digital - of the people around them, saying "You will always remember, 'I was there in 2006.'"

Whatever year it was the collision wasn't quite over. The fiasco had taken a lot of time, and the Waikiki Shell is required to end all performances by 10:00. There has been a rumor for a long time that this was to be the Brother Cazimero's last Lei Day celebration, and I think the planned finale was originally designed to leave an air of mystery around that question. But there was not time for a finale of any rehearsed kind at all. Robert simply ordered all the dancers to the front of the stage. He made a show of waving goodbye to them, but they didn't know what they were supposed to do. Some left the stage, others waved back at him, one or two made goofy gestures... then finally they all just drifted aimlessly away. Robert turned his back on the audience, and walked backstage. That was it.

I have not read a review of the performance. The newspaper reported only that Don Ho's wife had collapsed on stage and was driven home by a family friend. She did not require medical treatment.

Poor her, and poor Robert trying to control it all and being unable to do anything but watch his beloved Lei Day celebration teeter on the brink and then topple off. (Bombs away.) It was the stuff of nightmares.