Public Relations – PR for short – is a lost art these days.
As a journalist for more than five decades, I’ve had professional relationships with a number of Hawaii PR people who were essential in the hospitality community, because they were the key that could open doors for access to VIPs or notables in a variety of situations. It could have been a visiting actor working on a film, a budding chef in the culinary world, a singer-dancer in a touring or local theatrical production.
PR had a prime role in media communication.
It used to be that a PR wizard could connect the dots with media to arrange print interviews or land a spot on the morning or evening newscasts for the broadcast industry or arrange a live radio gig.
Very often, media folks knew the PR resources better than their big bosses, simply because spokesmen or spokeswomen were the gateway to data or providers of clues for reportorial types. Times have change, and I’m wondering: What’s happened to PR people?
Maybe it’s me, already retired and doing my own thing, that I’ve lost contact with the PR world. I don’t do hotel or theater runs like I did back in the day. Then again, many orgs with PR services operate strictly via emails and an infrequent phone call. It’s the new normal now.
Remember when a Rolodex ruled?
Thus, PR pros are an endangered species, for sure. My contact list these days are scanty, with only a few PR names; back in the day, my Rolodex (Google that!) had a bunch of rPR esources on individual cards on file.
Those I’ve known in the past have retired, have relocated, have been removed, hopefully joyfully after their service. A few have died.
I was reflecting on publicists of the past — the women and the rare few men — who had a hand in the PR brigades of the past. This serves, thus, as an expression of mahalo to these behind-the-scenes heroes of another era.
Doyenne of publicists
Elissa “Lis” Josephsohn, a PR doyenne
The late Elissa “Lisa” Josephsohn easily was the doyenne of powerhouse publicists, whose clients ranged from restaurants to theater companies, and opera to symphony clients, who knew how to partner her clients with entertainment ventures to building up the dining and performance arts in Honolulu. Over three decades, her clients included Sunset Grill, the Black Orchid, Ruth Chris Steak House, Compadres, Romano’s Macaroni Grill, Palomino, Dixie Grill, Victoria Station, Rose City Diner and Auntie Pasto’s, plus the Honolulu Symphony, Ballet Hawaii, the Hawaii Theatre, Diamond Head Theatre. Her signature theater clients included the producers with original Canadian and domestic roots, staging the likes of “CATS,” “Les Miserables,” “The Phantom of the Opera,” and “Miss Saigon,” at the Blaisdell Concert Hall in an era that there was a drought of bona fide touring companies of stage attractions; her passion help create the foundation and a template for future producers to make the leap to give Hawaii a chance, which opened doors for future legit theater in the islands.
Name-dropping
To name-drop, other pioneering PR directors included:
Dee Dickson, Jeanne Park Datz, and Woody Chock of the Hilton Hawaiian Village.
Jere Bostwick, of the Royal Hawaiian Hotel.
Kay Ahearn, of the Kahala Hilton.
Joyce Matsumoto and Erika Kauffman, of the Halekulani Hotel.
Nancy Daniels, of the Outrigger Hotels and the Kahala resort.
Bobbie Watson, of the Ilikai Hotel.
Sheila Donnelly, of the Hawaiian Regent (she was a publicist servicing her client from her own offices, not physically attached to the hotel).
David McNeil, of the Ala Moana Hotel (he, too, worked from his own PR firm downtown).
Patti Cook, of the Willows restaurant.
Surely, there are many more from the past, who should merit a nod; and hopefully, there are a new breed in a quest to reestablish the importance of PR.
If you haven’t been a subscriber or reader of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser in recent years, you’d be stunned with the three-section oddity with former stand-alone sections conjoined and consolidated like Siamese twins.
Happily, sports finally and deservedly has its own a stand-alone section. ;
The coronavirus pandemic, now into its third year, has dramatically affected advertising revenues, triggering downsizing of the paper’s space and staff; survivors earlier experienced “furloughs” reflecting a 20 per cent paycut. And since last fall, the Star-Advertiser newsroom was virtually shut down, with most reporters working from home, saving office space costs for their employer.
It’s a worrisome challenge about what’s happening at the daily paper.
The Wednesday food tabloid — with earlier take-out restaurant offers– now is back to dine-in options, with the Sunday Dining Out tab (which was Dining In at the height of coronavirus) also resuming to peddle on-site dining.
For more than a year, a Saturday print edition was eliminated, so print signees have to navigate an online edition. It takes an effort to call up stories and the site boasts a recap of the Friday edition of USA Today.
The strangest calamity is Sunday’s Detours/Travel; it’s a features section with marginal focus, with some local articles, plenty of wire stories and puzzles. Since travel is returning as more planes fly, the pics of those travelers who’ve discovered a Hawaii shop or restaurant is the best link to life in the new normal.
As a lifelong print reader and a career journalist, I’m simultaneously concerned and dismayed that perhaps someday, the Star-Advertiser may become exclusively on-line. It is simpler to manage, easily updatable, and likely an option to reduce further costs.
Longtime subscribers (me included) are largely seniors — old habits are hard to eliminate — and it’s no secret young folks don’t read newspapers. Repeating: Young. Folks. Don’t. Read. Newspapers.
Book buffs can relate; turning pages and enjoying the scent of a new volume is akin to flipping pages of a paper smelling like newsprint ink. Online and tablet-reading may be convenient but is not user-friendly.
Reading habits have dramatically changed over time. Remember when families could easily share sections— main news, sports, features, business — because they were stand-alones. No more, however.
When the potential staff cuts were announced in the midst of the pandenmic, I was stunned to learn two columnists —Lee Cataluna and Christine Donnelly — were on the endangered list, but Cataluna revealed on her Facebook page that she chose to voluntarily exit the paper, to spend the summer completing writing projects (she’s a somebody, of course, in playwrighting) then joined the staff of Civil Beat in the fall to resume her reportorial skills. Their win, a loss for the paper.
Donnelly’s retention meant that her Kokua Line column, which resolves and covers a myriad of community and governmental issues particularly important in these coronavirus times, continues. Smart move.
That Cataluna and Donnelly even were on the potential cut list in the first place was astonishing. They are essential in the content of a metropolitan daily. They bring daily sunshine into dark corners, providing the essence what a paper does. Inform, sometimes amuse; educate, sometimes entertain.
Content matters because it reflects who and what the paper is. In that sense, content should reflect the community, too,
From the perspective of someone who’s been part of the paper for nearly 60 years, 45 of which as a full-timer, it hurts personally to see the state’s lone paper is struggling. There used to be two, remember, the Honolulu Advertiser and the Honolulu Star-Bulletin. Competition was essential in reportage; today, a monopoly rules.
As a cub reporter, at the smaller Advertiser morning publication, I was humbled to work and compete with the evening Star-Bulletin, which championed the race for a time. But the Advertiser, which for decades was a locally-owned and operating paper thanks to its late publisher Thurston Twigg-Smith, eventually surpassed the SB to become the dominant print voice in the state. The Advertiser also built a new press in Kapolei, shuttering the ancient behemoth on Kapiolani Boulevard and eventual vacating the premises now occupied by a business. Sad day for us oldtimers.
I think the Advertiser became the paper of choice over time because of its content, its diversity, and its esprit de corps. It was always a fun place to work, with writers and columns that nurtured the publication’s growth.
Ironically, while in high school, I won a Star-Bulletin-supported scholarship to attend the University of Hawaii, and after I graduated, sought a job at the Bulletin. But there were no openings then, but the Advertiser did, and I was hired.
It was thrilling to be in the circle of local talent that filled the pages of the Advertiser. Surely, you remember Bob Krauss, who wrote about his family a lot (in the old days, his column was titled “In One Ear”) but he chronicled trends and notables in the community thereafter. The paper hired a married couple, Ele and Walt Dulaney, who put a spin on local advice for youths —diversity in action, since she was Japanese and he was haole.
Then there was the dean of the three-dot column, Eddie Sherman, who dropped bold face names of the famous and infamous, an inspiration in my eventually destiny at the paper.
And there was the unlikely but fabled Sammy Amalu, the only ex-con columnist in Hawaii’s history, who shared his love particularly of things and themes Hawaiian.
Harry Lyons was the resident editorial cartoonist (OK, the Bulletin had a dandy, too, in Corky Trinidad) and both artists created powerful cartoons — with politicos eager to purchase their original cartoons that appeared in the editorial pages (or accompanying news or features in both papers). When both died, their slots were not filled.
You remember the queen of household hints, Heloise? She authored the Hints from Heloise column in the Advertiser —a feature so popular, it was syndicated —and certainly the most famous of the Advertiser alumni.
And my buddy, Scoops Casey Kreger, authored the Ms. Fixit column, which competed with the SB’s Kokua Line originated by Harriet Gee. These Q&A columns probably were the most popular in the paper’s content because they tackled everything from governmental red tape to complaints about potholes to wee-hour noisemaking.
Among other notable Advertiser columnists was Cobey Black, whose profiles and interviews of the rich and famous were part of the feature section.
That was the community I knew in my early years at the Advertiser. It was Buck Buchwach, a managing editor who became editor, who tapped me to become the Advertiser’s first and only entertainment editor-columnist. He nurtured and shaped Sherman’s column, thanks to his interest in the Hollywood scene prior to his Hawaii residency, enabled a local boy to carry on the tradition.
Regular entertainment news and features are a rarity these days; while theater and clubs are beginning to bloom and rebuild, movie screens have reopened with mostly scanty titles and the occasional blockbuster like “Spider-Man” and “The Batman.” What the pandemic has done is to impact movie-going is clear. Most folks stopped going to a theater during the crisis and got accustomed to streaming films on TV instead. Old habits don’t die, but they kill businesses attempting to reestablish old hangouts.
The performing arts have been a stepchild in recent years, battered by the pandemic, but have never had the muscle, or moolah, to become a resonant and relevant voice in the community. Artists and their expression are vital in media; the paper’s role in this process has been erratic and dismal during the pandemic, Remember TGIF, the weekly tabloid over the decades? It was aborted before the pandemic and replaced with a broadsheet, which was halted during the cutbacks and never restored. Sad.
But when you’re the only game in town, you’ve got power and prowess to set your own rules.
Notice? If you call the paper or a reporter these days, there’s a security tier that blocks your access unless you have had previous minimal clearance.
It’s no longer easy to communicate, even if communication is the core and the heart of a thriving publication.
How often do you schedule a staycation, where you shuttle over to a Waikiki hotel? If memory serves well, my last impromptu Waikiki stayover was for two nights at the Princess Kaiulani Hotel maybe a decade or so ago, when our home was tented for pest control. No, we didn’t have issues with creepy crawlers; we simply take precautions periodically.
But when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, right?
So the missus and I wound up with an unplanned vacation – well, a staycation, a “trip” minus an airline flight.
We originally planed to stay three nights at the Ala Moana Hotel by Mantra because on Tuesday morning, Dec. 7, the day of infamy was make-lemonade day. No water!
Relevant concerns:
Can we live without water, hot and cold?
For how long?
Besides a shower, what about an unflushable toilet?
What’s the alternative to the unexpected dilemma, with no clue on how long this disruption would last?
Awaiting check-in, at the front desk of the Ala Moana Hotel.
Answer: Plan a staycation. The wife wasn’t going to tolerate the lack of a hot bath, and worse, the issues with the toilet. A Board of Water wagon arrived, and while we hauled out City Mill painting/gardening buckets (had two new ones in the house) to fetch water, we still weren’t willing to play out the waterless issue for lord knows how many days and nights.
Went online to find a hotel. Didn’t want to mess with the Waikiki traffic, and didn’t know there was gonna be Dec. 7 parade on Kalakaua Ave. that evening.
We had no more Christmas shopping to do, but the opportunity to be at Ala Moana Center was a plus; we hadn’t been mall-ers for a spell, what with the pandemic.
The Ala Moana had rooms going for as low as $179 a night, so that seemed fair and acceptable, so I logged on, intending to book perhaps two, maybe three nights, to avoid returning home too early if the meddlesome water main break continued.
In my online booking, something strange happened; the system — outsourced and located in Australia, I learned — was a bit crazy, so a wrong arrival date and departure date appeared without my input. It didn’t even apply a LOCALSONLY discount that appeared when I signed on. The only way to undo this was to call the hotel directly, and a sweet reservationist assisted, correcting the check-in date and suggested we do the three nights, just in case, because the hotel was approaching a fully-booked status.
A simple dinner at Liliha Bakery inside Macy’s.
She noticed I hadn’t asked for the kamaaina discount and I said I did, so she inserted that data in the reservation. The discount would cover a $35 daily charge for self-parking at the hotel (vs. parking illegally and walking to the hotel adjoining the shopping center).
The lemonade started to get a bit sweeter.
The staycation was a blessing, and wound up being a post-anniversary observance, since our home had two guests for much of November. And Nov. 23 was our 53rd wedding anniversary that included a sweet dinner at Roy’s with our niece visiting us to see her Army son, who had concluded one assignment before moving to another.
A calming dinner at Ruscello’s inside Nordstrom; note yule trees.
Staycations mean you can drive home to pick up a few things that you may have forgotten to pack, so yes we drove home on Wednesday Dec. 8, to pick up a charging cord with a magnetic head for my Apple watch. We brought a few more clothing items and a couple of snacks, too, and learned that the water was restored early Wednesday, though the roadway was not restored for traffic, so we wondered if we should cut short the vacation. We had made dinner reservations for Wednesday night, so proceeded back to the hotel and later drove to the Nordstrom end of the mall, for our meal at Ruscello, a favorite destination. (FYI, I no longer walk the whole length of the mall because of back ache issues, so a short drive is part of my new normal).
Chillin’ inside the Ala Moana Hotel room.
The staycation, however, intruded with three Thursday Dec. 9 calendar items – my wife had a bone density test to take, and a Zoom session in the afternoon, and I had my usual Thursday PT session in the morning. We intended to return home early Thursday, so she could get to her appointment in her car, and I’d do same with mine. We would then return to the hotel afterwards.
However, overnight Wednesday, I developed a feverish feeling – both my legs and feet were icy cold, due to the hotel’s air-conditioning — so I told my wife it’s probably best that we conclude the staycation after two nights.
Staycations allow this kind of casual and informal play-out. We were enjoying the novelty of hotel life because we hadn’t traveled since the pandemic cancelled everything two years ago. And two evenings were just the right dose.
We don’t normally go all-out to mark our anniversary; the last one was the 50th, to which we invited the entire family. This one was perfectly personal, just us two; it didn’t require high-end dining with champagne and the works.
Liliha Bakery’s loco moco: in a word, ono.
We had dinner at Liliha Bakery at Macy’s the first night; she had the hamburger steak, I had the loco moco with two easy-over eggs over the burger on a bed of fried rice. Boring? Perhaps. But ono.
We learned that Cafe 410, the Ala Moana restaurant, had been closed throughout the pandemic, but was reopening Wednesday morning with a breakfast-buffet format; it was not grand nor bountiful, comprised mostly of bacon, pork sausage, pancakes hidden in those domed bowls, a small selection of breakfast fruit (pineapple chunks, watermelon, honeydew melons), and a station with croissants, bagels and bread for toasting. I don’t recall the cost, but the waitress insured we’d get the kamaaina discount. And when asked about the numbers in the Cafe name, she said it’s the hotel’s address on Atkinson. Now you know, too.
The hotel stay was leisurely and comforting; we took a selfie in front of a decorated Christmas tree in the hobby but it was a lousy shot. No matter.
We both had hauled our computers with us in separate roll-aboards, since we have different needs. And over two days, I had a few hours to shape and nearly complete my traditional Christmas column, to be posted in a few weeks. We were still connected to our daily do’s, including checking emails.
The staycation cost $700-plus for hotel and meal charges but you only live once, and you can’t take it with you. And FYI, the hotel didn’t charge a penalty for an early departure and the refund for the unused third night was credited to my charge card.
For an imperfect few days of rain and no running water, this was the perfect staycation at a time we needed a break from routine.
Back in the day, in a high school English class, the teacher asked students to get involved in a game. Don’t know if the exercise had a formal name, but the concept was simple.
…a running brook
Finish this sentence: Have you ever seen …
The trick was to combine a noun with a verb, to give the query a quirky result.
Like, have you ever seen a horse fly?
So I’ll resurrect the game, with hope that you might join in to share your brainstorming skills.
…an ocean wave.
I’ll do a few more examples to get the momentum going.
As a kid, do you recall having periodic shots at a doctor’s visit? For flu prevention. Perhaps a booster to combat the flu.
As an adult, I started including cortizone injections as part of my regimen, to combat pain, Like carpal tunnel syndrome in my right wrist, and shots in my lower back, to ease arthritic and pinched-nerve issues.,
Have you had your shingles shots?
But there was a pair of injections I had over the past four years, to prevent a shingles attack, where you can have blistering rashes anywhere on your body. Some have the shingles on their faces, if you can imagine.
So I ask now: Have you had a shingles shot? One or two?
OK, OK, OK. Enough about shots, right? The coronavirus pandemic has been an invasive species, making many shy away from being vaccinated.
But shingles is another issue. As health folks indicate, shingles is sneaky, caused by the same virus as chickenpox. No one is happy, getting shots. But vaxxing means prevention.
And if you’re over 50 years old, the shingles shots – one, then another later –is highly recommended. Why? Because stats show 1 in 3 people will get shingles. And shingles is not pretty, but highly painful, like a bad, blistering rash, and it could be incapacitating, if you get a bad attack.
Flu shots matter, too.
I’ve had both shots over the past four years. When the battle call was sounded several years ago — that seniors over 50 should get those shots — it was virtually impossible to even sign up for the procedure. The serum supply here was scarce; most doctors didn’t have it, pharmacies like CVS Longs and Walgreens couldn’t get ‘em. Strangely, Safeway with pharmacies had supplies, but the waiting list was so long, the pharmacy shut down its waitlist.
Eventually, I found an independent supplier and was able to get the first, then the second. Once you have both shots, you’re done.
Lest you forget, we’ve become beings that try to get annual shots to lessen the chances of catching the winter flu. And every season, the shots change because the flu attack heightens.
Sure, making the effort to receive any shot takes time and effort. The trade off is if you catch the disease of the moment, your period of recuperation will be easier and faster.
“Shingles rarely kills you,” says William Schaffner, M.D., a professor of preventive medicine and infectious diseases at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, “but it can make you wish you were dead.”
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration says Shingrix, the vaccine it approves for shingles prevention, is “spectacularly effective”. The shot is 97 per cent successful in preventing those in their 50s and 60s from catching the rash, and 91 per cent for those 70s and older.
Something to consider when you get your annual fall/winter flu shot.
