Monday is a great day for misanthropes visiting Hawaii. Fewer people (i.e. children) at the beach. Fewer people on the road. We headed out to Hungry Ear records, stopping first for lunch at Highway Inn. We put our name on the list and sat outside, as the signs instruct you to do. It was a beautiful day. Or I at least think it was. When our table was ready, the nice man who seated us thanked us profusely for following instructions.
One of the many great things about Highway Inn is that poi is on the menu every day, just there for you whenever you want it. So I had an ahi salad and poi. Fantastic lunch, and we didn't feel out of place.
Record shopping in Hawaii has changed so much since we first started visiting in 2006. Usedtawas that there were a number of stores. Jelly's had several locations, and they had lots of used books, to boot. There were records to be found at the thrift stores. And Hungry Ear was in Kailua. The record stores had listening stations! But that was before we all had smartphones and could look up music on youtube and see if we like it before buying. These days I find that impolite and I just buy stuff. I will use my phone to remind myself of the name of the arranger that I like, because I will buy anything he has worked on (that's Benny Sax, by the way).
Anyhoo, this was a very special day, because I looked through every record, starting with the As, and when I got to the Ps, I found my holy grail: Pacific Musicale, by The Coconuts.
In 1993, when we visited New Zealand, we went on holiday with our friends who lived in Auckland. Somehow we managed to have two flat tires before even leaving town, which gave me hours in which to review in detail the contents of a gas station mini mart. I learned that corned lambs tongues in a can were a thing that you could at least find in two city gas stations. Anyhoo, our amazing friends took us to the Coromandel, and specifically to Thames, where two amazing things happened:
1) Mrguy bought his first pair of shorts. We went to New Zealand at the end of their summer and *someone* staunchly refused to buy short pants. Levis 505s and Converse or Docs it was. Until we got to Thames and it was sweltering and he bought some shorts.
2) Our friends bought Pacific Musicale at a thrift store. When we got home a few days later they put it on the stereo and we were all amazed. That was really a catch. Mrguy made a cassette of it while we were there, and decades later made me a set of digital tracks of it. Still, we always wished we could find our own copy and maybe learn more about the artists. All we knew, years later, was that they were from the Cook Islands. Recently, before we went to Hawaii this time, I had found a copy of the record listed on Discogs, but it wasn't for sale. Years before that, I remember asking which of our friends got the Coconuts record in the record tribunal at the end of their relationship. It went to the man, and on one of his visits here, when I asked if he still had it and could he please take a photo of the cover he said that the record sleeved had turned to mush when his basement flooded.
So we're at Hungry Ear and I find it. I am gobsmacked. I put it behind my back. I walked over to mrguy and asked for his attention.
Me: I found it.
Him: You FOUND it? You mean you found the single of Alan Akaka singing "At the Coco Palms"?
Me: No. I found IT.
Him: You found IT? The Coconuts record?
So happy. There was information aplenty on the record sleeve. The rhythm of the drumming is so unusual and sometimes unfollowable, but fantastic. We figured they were all drinking kava while playing. Maybe, maybe not, but I howled when I found out that these folks are of Norwegian (and Cook Island) descent. Jonassen is the name. Their ancestor was a Norwegian sailor (natch) who was shipwrecked off Tahiti and then made his way to the Cook Islands.
Our copy of the record is really clean, and it feels really great to find something that you have literally looked for assiduously for 30 years. Whoa.
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