Keali`i Reichel: Voice of an Angel: Chapter 4: Countdown to Kûkahi

Countdown to Kûkahi

`A`a i ka hula. Waiho i ka hilahila i ka hale.
Dare to dance. Leave embarrassment at home.

As I am dressing, the butterflies descend full force. The insecurities of the unknown converge. I am awash with uncertainty, so much for prescience.

"How dumb an idea was this, anyway?" chides my Shrinking Violet alter ego.

One-on-one, I'm fine, but when thrust into a sea of strangers, I can be hilahila nui (very shy), although outwardly , I am told, Violet is not apparent . Soon, I'll also be meeting our cyber `ohana (family), about twenty people that I've never met before, at least not in person. The prospect puts me on edge.

Mainland cocktail parties, i.e, the contrived socializing of strangers compressed in tight spaces, are the bane of my existence. My idea of pleasurable socializing is an intimate, unpretentious pâ`ina (informal dinner) with friends. In rooms filled with strangers schmoozing and yelling at each other above the din, how I have yearned for the quiet peace of an evening in front of the fire place with Pila and the girls, a glass of fine wine, and a good book.

It is countdown time. I'm anxious about meeting so many people all at once. But most of all, I'm nervous about meeting the voice of an angel.

"I was perfectly fine just knowing the voice," whines my insecure self. "I like the intrigue of Keali`i, "the image, the mystery, the legend"

Besides, I was enjoying my on-line persona, the lei seller on the back of the LEI HALI`A CD. As an alter ego, I like her a lot better than Violet.

My brother, Kekoa, and sister, Mâlie, who both live on Maui, have since informed me that Keali`i is a genuinely good, caring person. He gives motivational talks at schools, openly sharing his experiences, good and bad, and serves as a positive role model for the youth in Hawai`i. He performs at Hawaiian cultural benefits. He gives back to the community. Not surprising. Certainly, his on-line communications convey his sincerity and sweetness. He is no longer a stranger to me.

In his first message, he said he wanted to put a face to Aunty. Those were not empty words; he meant them. But auê (oh no)! He's expecting that face to look like the lei seller's. Will he forgive me?

How do I tame these monster butterflies?

Yikes, within minutes, Lynn and Wayne, our best buddies, will be here to pick us up. It is too late to back out now. I command myself, "Breathe deeply. Hâ……" In an instant, a miracle of true friendship happens. As soon as I see their smiling faces, Wayne's and Lynn's, "poof!" The butterflies flutter away! Wayne and Lynn are the best ever friends.

They drive us to Montserrat Avenue, alongside the Honolulu Zoo, and, "boola, boola, boola" (an incantation that I learned from Mark Twain's descendant!), a parking space opens up within close walking distance to the Shell.

Our friends surprise us with the perfect gift: an intimate, unpretentious pâ`ina . Wayne sets up a portable picnic table under the shade of a sprawling monkeypod tree, while Lynn brings out dish after dish after dish: poi, lomi salmon, lau lau, tako poke, aku poke, misoyaki (marinade of soybean paste) butterfish, kim chee (a Korean relish of pickled cabbage, onions, daikon, garlic and chilies), sea salad (seaweed salad), and musubi (steamed rice, hand-molded into triangles and wrapped in seaweed) . `Ono an’ hô, da planny food! (Delicious, and wow, so much food!)

Wayne fills our wine glasses with my favorite, Merlot. We reminisce about Christmas Eve, when we discovered Keali`i's music together. After a full day's skiing, we were warming up before a roaring fire, listening to KAWAIPUNAHELE. Sipping our wine, we marveled at the beauty of his voice. Less than three months later, we are now within minutes of meeting the man behind the voice, as his guests.

We toast our friendship, our incredible good fortune, and the evening to come.

It is 4:30, the agreed time to meet at the Waikîkî Shell’s Will Call, is quickly upon us. As Lynn and Wayne pack up the car, Pila and I scamper ahead, so as not to be late. Earlier, I had assured my cyber `ohana that they would indeed recognize me. I approach the group with my "Aunty" sign in hand.

For the first time, I meet my cyber-`ohana. Over the past two months, we've been "meeting" regularly, with our hearts and minds. There's Craig (Bruddah BU), whose Santa Clara concert report galvanized our Keali`i music interest, which led to the coalescence of our cyber-`ohana, and his beautiful French wife, Annie, from San Francisco. There's Seestah Judy, a fount of Hawaiiana knowledge, and gentlemanly Bern, from Wine Country, California. And there's the Honolulu contingent of our cyber-`ohana: Kelena, with the GQ good looks, with a sweet heart; our intrepid leaders, Linda ("Ma" Velle) and Jim ("Pa" Velle), owners of Compuserve's Hawai`i Forum; Uncle Fred, our resident forum sage and Peggy; Chuck, the computer whiz, soon to be "squished"; Rick T, a recent East Coast transplant and Wendy; Aimee and her family, and gentle Joy.

We greet one another with hugs and kisses as if…as if we are old friends. No cocktail party strangers are in this group. I am among friends. We share much in common: our cyber interest, our love for Hawai`i, its music and one very unique Keali`i Reichel, who has brought us together as a cyber-`ohana, on-line and now in person.

I am not wistfully yearning to be somewhere else. I am exactly where I want to be.

Synchronistically, Cecelio's and Kapono's "Friends", a song which bid us "Aloha `Oe" (Farewell) seventeen years before, is playing as we walk, no, we dance into the Waikîkî Shell, arm in arm.

"We are friends…friends…friends…"

`A`ole i pau

>> Ua ho`omau ka mo`olelo…The saga continues

Pû`olo
[POO' oh loh]

A bundle, with a gift within.