HAWAIIAN STYLE
On rent-all store sign, tedium is not the message

By Wade Kilohana Shirkey
Advertiser Staff Writer

Gordon W.S. Loui does a lot of borrowing — strange, for the owner of a rent-all business.

Hawaiian Rent-All? Oh, you must mean that landmark McCully store with the funny slogans on its sign. Advertiser library photo

Trouble is, more people now know the business on the corner of McCully and Beretania streets by its irreverent sign and catchy slogans than by the name Hawaiian Rent-All.

Even after a quarter-century of snickering at the posted witticisms, folks still wander in, asking: "What kind of business is this, anyway?"

The Roosevelt graduate, known as "Mr. Tool," developed a love for hot-rodding, fast cars and tools in 1950s Hawai'i. "I've always been kinda handy with tools and electronics," he said.

His mechanical bent led him to a degree with a double major — mechanical engineering and business — from a Mainland college, and he figured he was bound for "some sort of automotive or aeronautics career," he said.

He came close: "I got into car rentals."

In the early 1960s, local rent-all stores were just popping up. "I saw all kind of other things being rented," he said.

Why not his first love — cars — he wondered.

"That you would rent something instead of own" was a novel concept to the emerging family of post-World War II. "Especially (for) the older Asian groups," he said, "that pride of ownership (for homes, cars and material goods) was strong. They'd buy a chain saw just to cut one tree down."

After a while, Loui saw saturation coming, even in the car rental business.

"Even Lippy Espinda was renting used cars," he said, recalling the larger-than-life, fast-pidgin-talking car salesman of post-statehood. "I was outta there."

So he turned to his other love, tools.

Hawaiian Rent-All opened in 1964. Its trademark sign went up at its present location in 1968.

Loui admits that he borrowed not only the original business idea, from trends he detected, but also the novel business sign concept, from imaginative Mainland advertising signage with "witticism and slogans." Loui expanded on the idea and localized the concept.

"We try to make the signs topical and tropical," he said.

Folks are none too shy to express their ire when the sign's message rubs them the wrong way: "MOM-IN-LAW COMING? ROLLAWAY BEDS: WITH OR WITHOUT ROCKS."

"Our phone rang off the hook," he said, grimacing. "Overnight our answering machine filled up. For three or four days. That one really raised the hackles."

Generally, though, the signs were well-received from the beginning. "It was relief from the usual commercial message — we try to keep it light."

Fodder for the sign's ideas likewise is "borrowed." Everyone contributes, he said, with ideas generated from staff discussion, suggestions from customers, the Internet, even Mainland travel.

"I scan Mainland (advertising and) signs for unusual messages," he admitted.

Over the years, some of the more popular signs have offered advice: "IF YOU CAN'T MAKE A MISTAKE, YOU CAN'T MAKE ANYTHING!"

Sometimes, it was a play on words: "DECEMBER BRINGS HO-HO-HO. FEBRUARY BRINGS OWE-OWE-OWE."

Occasionally, the letters get deeper: "A PHILOSOPHER HAS A PROBLEM FOR EVERY SOLUTION." Or "DRIVE WITH CARE. LIFE HAS NO SPARE."

Most often, it's just a good dose of humor: "DIETS ARE FOR THOSE THICK AND TIRED OF IT."

There are occasionally even some with a little "ouch": "WE'D BE PERFECT IF WE HAD A LITTLE HUMILITY."

Among Loui's favorites over the years was one he had nothing to do with. Long overdue for a sign change and in the midst of a Mainland trip, he phoned his store manager. "Just do SOMETHING," he said in exasperation.

The sign that greeted him on his return: "MY BOSS TOLD ME TO CHANGE THIS SIGN, SO I DID."