It’s funny how things work out. A few years ago I had an idea for a card game—a new version of an old favorite: Go Fish! But in my game, all the fish were actual fish that you might find while snorkeling in Hawai’i. And, instead of asking for aces or kings, you had to ask for the fish by their Hawaiian names: “Do you have any humuhumu-nukunuku-ā-pua’a?”
A year later, Go Fish! Hawai’i, was in the stores, and we are now in our fifth printing.
As that business (aka Card Shark) continued to grow, I realized I needed to know more about the Hawaiian language and culture to make sure I was honoring it. Long story short: I took my my (then) 11-year-old son, Taylor, to the Beamer family’s Aloha Music Camp on Moloka’i, for a week of Hawaiian cultural immersion and music. And that, as the poet Robert Frost said, has made all the difference.
Though language and culture were my main motivation, I took along my ‘ukulele, which I had been struggling to learn to play for years. One day, in Kaliko Beamer’s beginning ‘ukulele class, I had an epiphany, and it all seemed to come together. I could whip through any song he gave us—as long as it was in the key of C or G and there were no more than three chords (and those were spaced well apart). With new-found confidence I performed with a small group of other musicians at the ho’ike, the student recital held the last night of camp. We were well into the second verse of “Moloka’i Slide” when a slight breeze blew my song sheet right off my lap! That initiated a pile-up with my fellow musicians resulting in the biggest train wreck Moloka’i has ever seen.
I resolved then to get rid of the “papeh.”
A few weeks later, Taylor and I joined the Napa Valley Flea Jumpers, a local group that gets together once a month to eat pupus, drink wine (naturally), play ‘ukulele and sing. My music, however, was in a big binder with my chord charts. It was cumbersome, to say the least, and without a music stand (or room to set one up) I was sunk. I started looking for a clip-on music stand that would hold my music right where I wanted it.
After weeks of searching, I came up with clip that would attach to the headstock of my ‘ukulele and hold my music about a foot away from my nose. Taylor came up with the name: loosely translated, in Hawai‘i, kani ka pila means to get together to play music.
I went back to Aloha Music Camp in June with a bunch of Kani Ka Pila Klips and discovered that the clip not only worked for ‘ukuleles, but the slack key guitar players wanted them as well.
I started making chord charts and other devices I needed to help my in my quest for stardom on the ‘ukulele circuit. Then I took the clip and the rest of my goodies to the Southern California ‘Ukulele Festival and sold a bundle of them. It turns out other people wanted them, too. We were on our way.
In February, one year after my first visit, I went back to Aloha Music Camp with new business under my belt. I performed in the hō’ike at the end of the week with nary a hitch and was delighted to see other students breezing through their performances with their Kani Ka Pila Klips attached.
The klip still works with the “papeh,” but we have since produced chord charts, chord transposition wheels, chord minders, and all manner of useful things to use with the Kani Ka Pila Klip while we play. And we have just come out with a selection of beautiful song cards from the Tin Pan Alley Era and are at work on a set of instructional cards, as well.
Then, after attending a few ‘ukulele festivals around the country, we thought it would be a brilliant idea to hold one right here in the Napa Valley vally. And there you have it: The Wine Country ‘Ukulele Festival.
All of this happened simply because I wanted to learn how to say humuhumu-nukunuku-ā-pua’a.
Never underestimate the importance of the little things that happen every day.
Life is, indeed, very good.
