An open letter to two Hawaii superstars who wowed ’em in separate back-to-back television appearances on CBS on June 11.
To: Bruno Mars (a guest on “60 Minutes,” originally aired Nov. 20 but still relevant) and Bette Midler (winning her first Tony Award for playing Dolly in Broadway’s “Hello, Dolly!”).
You are both treasures; you make us proud.
Bruno, you opened your heart in your reflections on how Michael Jackson, Prince and James Brown influenced you in your quest for success.
“You watch them and you understand that they’re paying attention to the details of their art,” you told reporter Lara Logan, amplifying your homespun sincerity with humility and respect.
You had a brush with homelessness as a child at 12, after your parents divorced. Your four sisters moved in with your mom, Bernadette, you with your dad, Peter Hernandez Sr., and you pinpointed the abandoned abode — without power (or a bathroom) — where you lived for two years in the Paradise Park vicinity in Manoa Valley.
With candor and a can-do spirit, you demonstrated rare maturity, citing the importance of ohana to maintain unity and hope.
“We had each other, and it never felt like it was the end of the world. … We gonna figure this out,” you said.
As Little Elvis, a childhood act you did for six years, I recall your glowing happiness whenever you were in the spotlight singing. And as you wisely surmised, your journey is far from over: “These are my people and I want to represent them. I want people to think of Hawaii and think of palm trees and magical islands and Bruno Mars.”
Migrating to Los Angeles to replant your musical roots, you never gave up hope or ambition. When you were caught with drugs, in a Las Vegas restroom, you converted a negative to a positive. Then the hits started coming. Your fate was to change. You’ve had funk and the Midas touch since.
At 31 you possess the passion for more conquests. Films? Broadway? Start drafting, start dreaming, start doing. …
AND DEAR Divine One. Bette, you were the anchor of the Tony ship, moored far too long in your seat, till you accepted your trophy for leading actress in a musical.
Your overlong acceptance speech, including your put-down of the orchestra attempting to cut you off (“Shut that crap off,” you retorted), was more hilarious than vicious. At 71 you waited nearly five decades to pluck that Tony plum with “Hello, Dolly!”
After the live acceptance speech from the Radio City Music Hall stage, you continued your victory lap with vigor backstage, crediting your community of singers, dancers and musicians for their spirit of camaraderie, yielding a sense of family, something you had not anticipated.
And those joyful tears, when you acknowledged two of your teachers when you were 14, reflected the value of nurturing and nudging to enable the bud to bloom amid poverty. In thanking your mentors Myrna Ishimoto (speech) and Betty Blake Rice (drama), you said “they were fabulous to me.”
The takeaway: Encouragement plus talent are essential en route to stardom.
The rigors of doing a Broadway musical led to your 30-pound weight loss, but “it’s been a healing experience.” To quote a lyric from the show: “You’re looking swell, Dolly … you’re still goin’ strong.” No one will rain on your parade. …
From: Wayne Harada, your Hawaii fan and observer from a distance.
And that’s “Show Biz.” …
Wayne Harada is a veteran Honolulu entertainment columnist. Reach him at 266-0926 or email wayneharada@gmail.com.
