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HONOLULU LITE

'Lite's' out

'Honolulu Lite' goes dark after 20 years

By Charles Memminger

POSTED: 01:30 a.m. HST, Mar 01, 2009

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I think the strangest reaction I got during nearly 20 years of writing "Honolulu Lite" was a letter from a guy threatening to blow me away with a .357 Magnum for making fun of mo-peds. It was then I realized how difficult it would be writing a humor column in these times when lunatic asylums are no longer in business and semiliterate, heavily armed mo-ped riders would be among my readers.

The fact is, I started writing a humor column after being a crime and investigative reporter, where I met people like hit man Ronny Ching. And during that time, covering everything from Colombian drug gangs to Hawaii organized crime figures, I NEVER got a death threat. Say what you will about hit men, but they are professionals. They wouldn't kill you unless they were paid to.

The other thing I learned fairly early on about writing a humor column is that satire is dangerous. If someone reads the column and doesn't understand it is satire, they get extremely upset. When I explained to one irate caller that a particular column was satire, he shouted, "Then why don't you label it satire!" I said, "Because I don't know how to spell satire." He missed that one, too. Luckily, he rode the bus, not a mo-ped. (Parts of the above story may have been fictionalized for dramatic effect.)

And that's the other thing: I found it a lot easier (and safer) to write a humor column if I just made stuff up. Then if I got an angry call or e-mail, I'd just say, "Dude, I made all that up." And he'd say, well, OK then.

I'M GOING DOWN memory lane here because this will be my final "Honolulu Lite." Newspapers everywhere are facing hard times because of the economy and the challenges of competing with "free" news to be found on TV, radio and the Internet. The Star-Bulletin is no exception. The paper is downsizing and reorganizing, and I thought this would be a good time for me to leave the stage with a wink and a smile and the (mostly) good memories of how much fun it's been to write in this space.

I was lucky. Most newspapers wouldn't consider having an in-house humorist. And, frankly, I expected the editors to wise up to my shenanigans years ago. But I am leaving the Star-Bulletin voluntarily, partly to make a space for someone younger who would have been laid off, but mostly so I can have the thrill of job hunting in the worst economy since the Great Depression. (Little-known historical fact: The Great Depression was preceded by the Great Vague Feeling of Uneasiness.)

I'm not retiring. I figure there must be tons of opportunities for slightly overweight humorists. I think I'd make an amusing car-wash attendant, for instance. But really, I'm just giving myself some time to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

I was saddened to hear that legendary Star-Bulletin cartoonist Corky Trinidad died just a few weeks ago. He was something of a mentor to me and illustrated my first book of columns ("Hey, Tourist! Buy This Book!"). Corky and I weren't great businessmen. I believe we split 72 cents per book in royalties.

But Corky told me something when I first started writing "Honolulu Lite." He said, "Throw away your first idea because everyone else is going to have it." It was brilliant advice and I tried to follow it, although I concede that there were a few days after consuming a bad bottle of wine that I wrote about the first thing that popped into my head, usually about geckos. But I've written more than 2,000 columns, and you have to concede that that's at least a great deal of typing.

So, I say so long and aloha to Corky and all you faithful, easily entertained readers. And I apologize to mo-ped riders everywhere.

 

I think the strangest reaction I got during nearly 20 years of writing "Honolulu Lite" was a letter from a guy threatening to blow me away with a .357 Magnum for making fun of mo-peds. It was then I realized how difficult it would be writing a humor column in these times when lunatic asylums are no longer in business and semiliterate, heavily armed mo-ped riders would be among my readers.

KIP AOKI / KAOKI@STARBULLETIN.COM

The fact is, I started writing a humor column after being a crime and investigative reporter, where I met people like hit man Ronny Ching. And during that time, covering everything from Colombian drug gangs to Hawaii organized crime figures, I NEVER got a death threat. Say what you will about hit men, but they are professionals. They wouldn't kill you unless they were paid to.

The other thing I learned fairly early on about writing a humor column is that satire is dangerous. If someone reads the column and doesn't understand it is satire, they get extremely upset. When I explained to one irate caller that a particular column was satire, he shouted, "Then why don't you label it satire!" I said, "Because I don't know how to spell satire." He missed that one, too. Luckily, he rode the bus, not a mo-ped. (Parts of the above story may have been fictionalized for dramatic effect.)

And that's the other thing: I found it a lot easier (and safer) to write a humor column if I just made stuff up. Then if I got an angry call or e-mail, I'd just say, "Dude, I made all that up." And he'd say, well, OK then.

I'M GOING DOWN memory lane here because this will be my final "Honolulu Lite." Newspapers everywhere are facing hard times because of the economy and the challenges of competing with "free" news to be found on TV, radio and the Internet. The Star-Bulletin is no exception. The paper is downsizing and reorganizing, and I thought this would be a good time for me to leave the stage with a wink and a smile and the (mostly) good memories of how much fun it's been to write in this space.

I was lucky. Most newspapers wouldn't consider having an in-house humorist. And, frankly, I expected the editors to wise up to my shenanigans years ago. But I am leaving the Star-Bulletin voluntarily, partly to make a space for someone younger who would have been laid off, but mostly so I can have the thrill of job hunting in the worst economy since the Great Depression. (Little-known historical fact: The Great Depression was preceded by the Great Vague Feeling of Uneasiness.)

I'm not retiring. I figure there must be tons of opportunities for slightly overweight humorists. I think I'd make an amusing car-wash attendant, for instance. But really, I'm just giving myself some time to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

I was saddened to hear that legendary Star-Bulletin cartoonist Corky Trinidad died just a few weeks ago. He was something of a mentor to me and illustrated my first book of columns ("Hey, Tourist! Buy This Book!"). Corky and I weren't great businessmen. I believe we split 72 cents per book in royalties.

But Corky told me something when I first started writing "Honolulu Lite." He said, "Throw away your first idea because everyone else is going to have it." It was brilliant advice and I tried to follow it, although I concede that there were a few days after consuming a bad bottle of wine that I wrote about the first thing that popped into my head, usually about geckos. But I've written more than 2,000 columns, and you have to concede that that's at least a great deal of typing.

So, I say so long and aloha to Corky and all you faithful, easily entertained readers. And I apologize to mo-ped riders everywhere.

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