REMEMBER the Ala Mo? That is, do you remember the Ala Moana Center of old? The one where the expensive stores were Liberty House and Ethel's and most of the rest were mom-and-pop operations like the pet store, crack seed and donut shops? Ooo! Aah! Auwe!
Ala MoanaLocal people were proud of the Ala Moana Center in those days. It was the largest shopping center in the country. More than a few residents even bragged to visitors that it was the biggest shopping center in the world.
In fact, it was the punch line of that famous joke about the Texas tourist bragging about how quickly things are built in his state. The cab driver tells him the Honolulu Airport was built in five years. He says, "Hell, son, in Texas we coulda built it in three." They pass the Aloha Tower and the cabbie tells him that was built in a year. "Hell, son, in Texas we coulda built it in six months." When they pass Ala Moana Center, the Texan asks, "Say, what's that big building over yonder?"
"I don't know, brah," says the cabbie. "Wasn't there yesterday."
See? People were proud. Mainly because it was a local place. Local stores for local people. Even the ritzy stores were where local people went to get dressed up for ritzy local events. Thousands of island residents probably attended their high school proms in Sears rental tuxedos from Ala Moana. Thousands of husbands probably wandered in a daze through Liberty House on a last-minute shopping expedition for their wife's birthday present. And many of the same thousand wandered away, dazed, thinking, "Ho, brah, expensive, da store." But they bought something anyway, because that's what husbands did on special occasions.
The restaurants were spread around so that the entire shopping center was divided into different smells. The makai side smelled like corned beef and pastrami, thanks to Lynn's Deli. The lower mall smelled like donuts thanks to Dunkin' Donuts. The mauka side smelled like teriyaki, thanks to Wong's Okazu-ya. And Woolworth's on the Ewa end always had that special smell of its own: popcorn. I remember one television special comedian Andy Bumatai did years ago at Ala Mo when he took his entire audience with him to go "smell Woolworths."
I wandered through the Ala Moana Center the other day and felt like a stranger in a strange land. I felt like a time traveler who suddenly had landed in a sterile, alien world.
I understand the need for change. And the need to attract upscale shoppers, particularly of the tourist kind. Tourists these days, especially from the Far East, aren't looking to pick up a Coconut Joe's Genuine Imitation Lava Rock Ash Tray (Made in Taiwan.) They aren't looking for spray-painted pink sea shells and T-shirts that say "Fill to Here With Beer" or "I'm With Stupid." They want quality. And Ala Moana Center is giving it to them, via a number of extremely expensive stores with designer names that I don't even recognize.
I'm not saying Ala Moana shouldn't have changed. I'm just a little sorry it did. It's not the biggest shopping center in the country anymore. It's not even the biggest in Hawaii. But more importantly, it isn't local anymore. Yes, there are still a few of the oldtime stores there. But most of the restaurants have been moved into the large, noisy and chaotic food court. It's now a big, Mainland-style ritzy shopping plaza where many local people walk around looking at things they'll never buy.
In a word, it's not "ours."
So, remember the Ala Mo. The Ala Mo of old. And if you pick up a Texan from the airport and he asks you what's in that big overgrown parking lot over there, you can say, "Gee, I don't know, brah. But let me tell you about what was there many years ago."