Book Review
George Kahumoku Jr., a man of two cultures

"A HAWAIIAN LIFE" by George Kahumoku Jr. and Paul Konwiser, Kealia Press, $14.95.

Entertainer George Kahumoku Jr. grew up with feet firmly implanted in two cultures, Hawaiian and American. The challenges of growing up local while exposed to Western traditions is the subject of joyful growing-up stories, spoken by Kahumoku (with editorial assistance from Paul Konwiser), in this delightfully honest and revealing portrait of a humble and talented Island musician.

An award-winning singer and composer, Kahumoku - through 14 revealing anecdotes - balances humor with compassion, entertainment with enlightenment. With this book, he establishes himself as a storyteller, weaving rich details and reflection into his remembrances. He shares a tale of "dying" as a youngster, to be brought to life, he believes, by his devoted ‘ohana, who prayed for him, and his strong-willed tutu, whose very breath gave him life after a boating accident.

"A Hawaiian Life" throbs with this kind of intimate detail, painting a picture of a simple but complicated man, torn between the ways of his ancestors and the customs of the modern world.

His near-death experience fueled his passion to respect and maintain the traditions of his culture, but he absorbed conventions of the Western world, becoming a passionate reader in order to broaden his horizons and expand his talents (which include artwork as well as music).

The stories are colorful and memorable. Repeatedly, he shows how even "bad" incidents in his past eventually come to some good, contributing to building his character. Consequently, his lessons in life become examples for others to live by. In this respect, the homespun tales are inspirational.

Take cockfighting: He says losing a bet turned out to be a good thing for him, since, if he had won, he might have continued to gamble. Instead, he finished school, studied art, became a farmer and chose music as his career.

Kahumoku shares memories of how the fast-talking car dealer Lippy Espinda ("the poor man’s friend") and legendary songwriter Kui Lee touched his life. How "going first" - meaning becoming the opening act on a music bill - filled his pockets. How TV wiped out his pig farm and profits. How Tutu (yep, same one) helped save him from testicular cancer.

One of the best stories deals with a performing gig Kahumoku had at a K?‘anapali hotel - how his zest for fishing literally gave the hotel a big stink and nearly burned down the place. Big mistakes. Big laughs. Big lessons.

The common theme in these episodes is how traditional Hawaiian ways shaped Kahumoku’s life even as his life was enriched by modern technology - not least being chemotherapy - and the good things we take for granted in Western culture.

In his wisdom, he says: "Even today, I still choose the best from each culture, Western and Hawaiian. I believe they can complement each other."

Excerpts from ‘A Hawaiian Life’

On dreams (a prelude to a principal’s job at a beachfront alternative school in Kona): "I don’t know if you believe in dreams. For me, one of them turned out to predict my future. For years, I kept a journal of all my dreams. In 1972, when I was living in California, I had a dream. First, there was the smell and feel of the ocean. Then I saw a bunch of kids wearing shorts, no shirts on. They were down at a beach building stone walls. That’s it, just this kind of scene of kids at a beach in Hawai‘i. It didn’t mean a lot to me at the time, but the dream was very vivid and the image stayed with me for along time before it faded from my memory."

On his stubbornness: "I went into the closet and took that ‘ukulele and broke it into a million pieces. I took the kite and trashed it, busted it all up. I don’t know if it was the spoiled brat in me, but remember, I was brought up by my great-grandparents, they treated me like I was ali‘i, royalty. From my auntie, I got a dirty licking for breaking the toys and I just stood there and wouldn’t even cry. She whipped me with her belt and finally she ended up crying instead of me. I think that’s the first time I realized I had a will of my own and it was really strong, even at 4 or 5 years old. And I loved it that I could make my auntie cry . . . "

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