Mars Over Maui

I wrote this piece in August 2003. I can't get back to Hawaii right now, so I thought I'd revisit the Islands by sashaying through these recollections for a bit. The column appeared in the San Francisco Examiner.

MAUI, Hawaii, Aug. 25 -- The intense, flickering brilliance of Mars, the Red Planet, that careens so closely by the Earth this week makes Maui, the Hawaiian Island of Valleys, even more mystical than it usually is. "Maui is amazingly spiritual," says Rod McKuen, the poet/troubadour of the San Francisco '60s. Rod is here to perform in a musical called "Soulmates," written by the popular local composer and performer, Patricia Watson. I came to here to see the show, which
played this weekend at the Maui Arts & Cultural Center. ... "I went up the the mountains here for a few days to do a little writing on my book," Rod explains. "The words were just pouring out of me. There is something about this place that reaches directly to the soul." He reminds me of the Irish singer who would gather his poetic notions by walking barefoot on the ancient ground of the Old Sod. He'd feel the Muse come up through his toes. ...

It's clear to understand why Maui evokes transcendental dreams. With the magnificent clouds wrapped low around the mountains, the heavens seem to come down to visit the mortals. ... There are churches everywhere in Maui. This has everything to do with Hawaii's missionary
past. "I even saw a large group of Mennonites at McDonald's," McKuen, remarks, clearly amused. Ah, yes. So many Mennonites, so little time.

And time moves slowly on an island so far from any main land mass. History holds fast. "Maui has a whole lot of gods that were here long before the Christians," says 16 year old Lisa Garcia, born in Texas and raised on Maui. Lisa likes to talk about the sites where Island warriors battled and died. "All these places are sacred -- and they are haunted." Jasmine Lowcher, a striking, raven-haired 18-year-old actress who appeared in "Soulmates," also knows the ghosts of Maui. "I have heard the Night Marchers," she says, with a little pride. "Their footsteps thunder down the trail at certain nights. They are the warriors who were slaughtered in the battle in Iao (rhymes with "meow") Valley a long, long time ago." ... Black Beach is where a princess, who betrayed her king for the love of another warrior, was put to death for her faithlessness. "You can sometimes see her blood on the wall of the cave where she died," says Lisa. "We swim there to honor her." Even Maui has its own Tristan and Isolde legend. ...

Lisa and her mom, Mona Garcia, attended the performance of "Soulmates." They applauded its zeal for the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, McKuen appeared on stage briefly, as a priest, "I'm not quite sure why I am playing a priest in Germany, of all places -- but I guess that's show
business." He sang one song, a "homily," Rod says. Yes, he wrote it last week in the mountains. It stopped the show. It's called "September Comes Around (All Too Soon)." It's an instant McKuen classic. The show is performed entirely in song -- with few spoken words -- in a bouncy pop style. Sort of "Godspell" meets "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg." Broadway star Mary Jo Catlett was a big hit. It was directed by David Galligan, known to S.F. audiences for his work on the Richmond Ermet AIDS Foundation benefit galas. "Soulmates" was a big event on Maui. McKuen chuckled about how his name appeared on the marquee on the highway above Steely Dan, who are appearing at the Maui Arts & Cultural Center on Oct. 10. ...

Rod McKuen's name will inextricably linked to San Francisco, though he's lived in Beverly Hills since 1969. "I saw Rod read his poems in Sausalito," says Kris Hinsvark, who stood at the stage door after "Soulmates," with her husband, Richard. "That was in 1965 and I still recall it well." Diane Kopperman traveled from Las Vegas to see Rod McKuen. She attends McKuen events all over the country. "I tell people I am a stalker," Diane deadpans. "Then they just get quiet." She
is part of the McKuen diaspora. His worldwide fans embrace a religious fervor of their own. ... Dave Donnelly, longtime columnist for the Honolulu Star-Bulletin, and frequent raconteur in S.F. saloons, winged in from Oahu for the show. ... Joseph W. Bean, who wrote for the long-disappeared S.F. Progress (precursor to the S.F. Independent), is now with the Maui Weekly: "I kept coming back to Maui. I finally decided it was cheaper to move over here." ...

Several people murmured to me, "You'll be back here, too." No one here seems to talk about where where you're going. They only ask when you are coming back. Maybe that's why "Aloha" means neither "Hello" nor "Goodbye." Coming back? To this beautifully dissolute island bordello
in the middle of the Pacific? I wonder. I was skeptical about Maui's magnetism. But, after a day or two, I feel a little sweet forgetfulness about the madding world seeping in slightly. That's easy to do while typing on a Mac in the Tradewinds Poolside Cafe at the Maui Coast Hotel, the languid music drifting over me in the perfumed breezy afternoon. "We'll be together again," the pedal steel guitar seductively promises, "here in this paradise." But I need a purpose, even in this paradise. So it's time to collect Rod McKuen and our young handler, the bright and capable Ben McMillan. We're off to Kahalui to look at ukes. ... And there are other pressing matters on this
breakneck itinerary. I have to squeeze in another marveling look at Mars and the constellations that hold court across the Maui sky. "Too many stars to squander," Rod gently warns in his new song, which was penned on spindrift pages in the still night on Maui soil. And then there is the topic of when I might be coming back -- back to Maui, that is. ... Aloha. ... Hello & Goodbye. ...