IMR: Entries: 2001: July: 19 — Thursday, July 19, 2001

Witness Bliss I'm still not sure if I regret not having a full-blown wedding.   Step-cousin Chad and Song (a.k.a. Dahi) wed. Guests at Soka Gakkai International look on. The happy couple exchange rings... again. That is, some of the best video shots were re-staged. The reception was at the Kahala Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Two sisters and their mother handle registration. Gayle and dad set up the receiving line. Guests fill the ground-level ballroom. A serenade by veteran entertainer Danny Kaleikini. The regular sunset departure of the FedEx jet. Three military fighter jets roar overhead. Watching these jets come in to land was a treat. The Chamber's annual luncheon, featuring Dr. Dobelle. Coworkers Liz and Sylvia, mildly amused. On Sunday, I got another chance to play wedding videographer, as step-cousin Chad (son of Gayle's brother Paul) was getting married to Song, a longtime girlfriend who we always knew as Dahi. Gayle and dad oversaw a lot of the planning, and made sure that both Todd, Eathan and I would be there. (Jen had to work; mom, fortunately, offered to babysit Katie.) I got to run around with the video camera, Todd got to escort Grandma O. throughout most of the festivities, and Eathan — a budding music promoter — handled the wedding music. The ceremony itself was held in a marble-and-glass temple nestled along Pali Highway, headquarters of Soka Gakkai International-Hawaii. I realized the last time I was there was for Uncle Paul's wedding. Soka Gakkai International, or SGI, is a brand of Buddhism based on Nichiren's "Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo" chant. A central tenet is that everyone without exception has the potential to attain Buddhahood (and, somewhat paradoxically, material wealth), and chanting "Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo" is a major part of that journey. It's an unusual sect, remarkably business-like (with its widely-cited assets of over $100 billion), and a focus of some controversy. But it's known for its appeal to people at all social levels, and Uncle Paul and many kin are devoted members. I quickly set about my duties, and I was fortunately already familiar with the layout and the restrictions on what could not be filmed. Early on, though, I started bumping shoulders with the professional videographer hired for the event. While I was doing the broader, informal documentary of all the goings on, his mission was specifically to film the wedding and have an edited, music-accompanied retrospective ready to show by the end of the reception that night. He was all business, and very... assertive, and was clearly working with a set formula of shots that would go into the final package. Before the wedding, he turned the camera on various sections of the audience, instructing them to alternately look awed or to clap and smile, as if the wedding was actually taking place, in order to have "cutaways" to splice into footage of the ceremony later. He did a lot of "as if" shots, and then when things got started, he took charge of the best spots to get the best shots, to the mild chagrin of the professional still photographers on hand. Although I got a lot of video of the back of his head, I did get a lot of good video too. I thought back to when I was fifteen and running around with Nate at UH, dreaming of a future in moviemaking. We never made it to Sundance, but I was fortunately still very comfortable behind a camera. Chad and Song looked great, of course. Chad looked quite groomly, and Song's gown was especially beautiful. "Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo" was chanted, rings were exchanged, sake was drunk, and vows were said. We were introduced to the new Mr. and Mrs. Chad Hatae. As soon as the ceremony was over, there was a mad scramble to break things down and move the show to the Kahala Mandarin Oriental Hotel, where the reception was to take place. I taped dozens of hugs, handshakes and signs outside, while the professional camera guy led the bride and groom back into the shrine room to reenact highlights of the ceremony for the wrap video. Todd, unsure of how to get to the hotel, tailed me all the way into Kahala in his girlfriend's old Toyota. I enjoyed handing off the keys to my frumpy family van to the smartly dressed valet, but not half as much as I enjoyed watching them get the keys from Todd, who had to explain how the door handle falls off. While everyone milled around and sipped beer and wine, I puttered around inside the banquet hall filming more behind-the-scenes fun. I also slipped outside to the hotel's lagoon, where I finally saw its famous "dolphin experience" in action. I'm sure the dolphins are well cared for, but to me they still seemed oddly out of place at a commercial resort. Grandma O., flanked by Todd and I, eventually got settled at our table, and true to wedding style, we got to know some people to whom we never knew we were even remotely connected. Sisters Gayna and Mia Fujieki, who were "calabash cousins" to Chad and had run the reception registration desk, were there with their mom Tisha. Also at our table were George and Irene Tanaka, grandparents to Chad's sister's son Tayler. Todd and I nattered at everyone like magpies, but fortunately they humored us. Finally the reception began, and dad was emcee, of course. He was his usual articulate, joking self, and our tablemates said they quickly realized where Todd and I got our talkative natures. We started with the food, naturally, and it was great. The Kahala Mandarin's famous kitchen — as good as the hype. Sashimi, poke, smoked salmon, shrimp, all types of salad, rice, potatoes, duck, roast beef... pretty much everything. Jen, fortunately, also got there in time from work (thanks to mom) to partake of the top-notch cuisine too. Then began the formal program, which included an invocation and special serenade by family friend and noted local entertainer Danny Kaleikini (who used to perform at the Kahala Mandarin), a nervous Maid of Honor address, a fittingly embarrassing Best Man address, a pair of "Banzai!" toasts (one led by Eathan), a speech by a proud Uncle Paul and the bride and groom themselves, plus a sweet acknowledgement of the bride and groom's mothers. Of course there were the usual wedding reception games, too. The tossing of the bouquet (the Maid of Honor nabbed it), the tossing of the garter (the men scrambled for it — Todd, though, hid quietly in back), and the centerpiece giveaway (a nice vase with flowers — Mia won, but insisted than Jen and I take it home). Then the videographer got to show off his stuff. There were a lot of slow-motion, stylish images of flowers and swans (!), a curious shot of the paper invitation, and lots of footage of the official family portraits being taken before the wedding ceremony. Then there was the wedding ceremony itself, of course, intercut with the aforementioned shots of reverent looks in the audience and followed by a ton of the aforementioned clapping footage. It wasn't bad, but I couldn't help but think that with powerful Macintosh desktops, Firewire ports, and digital video cameras appearing in more and more living rooms, this type of videographer could become an endangered species. Finally, the wedding couple's first dance. Everyone said on cue, "Awww." Then the program was closed, and the dance floor was opened up. No one danced, though. There was a little dance floor, fancy lights, and a great sound setup, but most folks opted to circulate and chat with each other, instead. When Etta James' "At Last" came on, though, I couldn't resist. I grabbed Jen, and we took the dance floor, and happily swayed and hugged and kissed. We had the whole setup and song to ourselves (apart from the handful of folks who swept by to take our picture), and it was a wonderful treat. Weddings are a blast when you're a guest. Usually, at least. But for the guests of honor and their family, it's also a lot of work. I do regret some of the things we didn't get to do with our modest nuptials — Jen in a fancy dress, Nate doing the Best Man's toast — but I also know I'll probably get to keep my hair a couple of years longer for having not gone for the gala affair. (As if we could have afforded it. Average price tag of a wedding in America: $19,104. That's a lot of Macaroni & Cheese.) Katie's obsession with commercial jetliners shows no sign of abating. If we ever have 90 minutes to kill, it is now a perfectly reasonable proposition to head out to the airport, to the very end of Lagoon Drive, and watch giant metal birds come and go. We've twice gone twice in one day, and several times between when I pick her up from school and when the sun goes down — rush-hour traffic be damned. We learned that the FedEx plane leaves at about the same time every evening, and since it kicks off from the FedEx center along Lagoon Drive (and not an airport gate), it always taxis along the fence, close enough to see the pilots in the cockpit. And the other day, while Katie and I were plane watching, we heard an entirely different shrieking roar overhead. Katie and I jumped out of the van and looked up to see three Navy F-14 fighter jets streaking across the sky. Before Katie even had a chance to cheer, one of the jets suddenly peeled off, rotating almost 90 degrees as it turned. A second later, the middle jet turned, and a second after that, the last one followed suit. They were spacing themselves out, making huge arcs in the sky, and soon it became clear they were coming in to land. After being used to the huge, lumbering physics of passenger jets — and the fact that they always stay miles apart in the air — it was a thrill to see these small, fast, agile planes move through the sky. Soon enough they were lined up over the ocean, and they touched down, one-two-three. Katie was almost speechless. (She also thought they were Northwest planes... we'll have to work on that.) And she was beside herself with glee when a second set of three fighter jets came in a few minutes later. So infectious is Katie's enthusiasm, I put together a miniature website of airplanes that she can click around. Every time a new airline takes to the skies before her eyes, I add it to her collection, and she gives herself (and Jen and I) flashcard identification quizzes. I just might end up starting that planespotting play group after all. Yesterday, Sylvia, Elizabeth, Doris and I — the only staffmembers in town this week — attended the Chamber of Commerce of Honolulu's Annual Luncheon at the Hilton Hawaiian Village. They were introducing their new chairman, Lily Yao, First Hawaiian Bank executive and UH Regent. But the special guest, and a major draw, was the new UH President Evan Dobelle. It was quite a gathering — easily 1,000 people — and it was fun spotting various familiar faces. While Sylvia and Elizabeth pointed out local business and government bigwigs, I found myself recognizing mostly the media present. We were seated in the second to the last row at the far end of the ballroom. Our tablemates were from Raytheon, UH Outreach College, Hawaii Business and Pacific Business Forums. The lunch was fish, kalua pig, and yams. The Chamber speeches were... appropriately businesslike. But everyone stopped whispering and perked up when Dr. Dobelle took the stage for his first public remarks save a press conference three weeks ago. "First of all," he joked, "Is there anyone here who doesn't know what my salary is?" It was an effective icebreaker, since most of the coverage of his appointment focused on his $442,000 contract — almost twice what his predecessor, the frumpy ax-wielding Kenneth Mortimer, was paid. As he delivered his remarks, you could sense his bulging resume behind his words. Not a hint of cynicism as he used words like "empowerment" and "excellence" and "leadership." Not a hint of modesty in asserting that UH could be one of the best universities in the world. A typical speech, it seemed, in many ways — yet still one of a scope and strength that Mortimer could never have attempted. But then, his speech took a sudden and refreshing turn toward the substantive. He stopped the "cheerleading," and went straight into an eleven-point plan for the next 18 months. And many of them were definitely not business as usual. A four-year university campus on Maui. Finally building up UH West O`ahu and turning Honolulu Community College into UH-Downtown Honolulu (with a four-year program). Re-branding the entire system and completely rearranging the sometimes competative relationship between UH-Manoa and other UH and community college campuses. Fully funding the Hawaiian Studies program. A top-to-bottom audit. Greatly expanding international programs. Working toward a new, long-term faculty contract. And deferring WASC accreditation until the entire UH system — not bits and pieces of it — can be evaluated as a whole. Even I, a media-hardened cynic of the highest order, got a couple of chills. A lot of what he said had been said before by others in hallways and back offices, but he did it with gusto and insisted on accountability. If he gets half of the stuff done in twice the time, I'll consider his tenure a resounding success. A lot of the public reaction, of course, has essentially been, "What's with this pushy, overpaid haole, thinking he can barge in and change everything?" But even as a local boy, I think the ant farm needs exactly this kind of shake-up. And, believe it or not, I think that's exactly why the Board of Regents picked him. Believe it or not, I credit the Regents with some strategy. Mortimer's true role, clearly, was simple: sit in the hot seat while tuition doubles and budgets are slashed, face the sign-waving crowds and cameras, then disappear quietly when the ugly business is done. Judging from his background, it could very well have been his specialty. Now, not then, is the time to propose radical change. Enter Dobelle, most recently heading Trinity College, but with lots of academic administrative background. He's also been a mayor, a state commissioner, and White House Chief of Protocol and Assistant Secretary of State. A guy who, by all accounts, thrives on rocking the boat. I think even the Regents expect him to hit several walls, and to fail in some — if not most — of his ambitious initiatives. But again, what little change he does enact will hopefully be worth it. And if things end up thoroughly FUBAR... at least I got out in time.

Comments Man ... Katie would probably LOVE U2's "Beautiful Day" video. Be careful -- she sounds like she's on the fast track to the Air Force. —NemesisVex (July 19, 2001 5:55 PM) Or to a job as an airtraffic controller... she likes to watch the action, after all. —Jolene (July 19, 2001 8:01 PM) If the fighters you mention in the text is the same you have digital stills for, they're Air Force F-15s; I think all the Navy planes are based out of K-Bay, and I don't think there's any F-14s because there's no carrier groups based in Hawaii (I think); Pearl Harbor is subs mostly (again, I think) See all the useless info (plane silhouttes and what sort of equipment would be where) you learn in the military? —Wayne (July 25, 2001 10:12 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < July 09 · July · July 30 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008