As a kid, I was in love with assembly lines.  Maybe it was the Cub Scout trip to the Rold Gold pretzel factory in El Segundo, the surfboard shaping and glassing bays of my teen years, or the industrial films that were shown on the rare rainy day recesses at Grandview School, but I love seeing how things I love are made.

On New Year’s Eve morning, 84 year old Fred Kamaka, Sr. was  leading the tour of the Kamaka Ukulele factory—holiday or not.

This is truly nirvana for the uke player, scion of the greatest uke maker, leading a tour of 10 through the small Honolulu factory, talking story, introducing us to his Ohana, all while detailing the amazing story of his father who started the business 93 years ago, and his brother who took over the business with Sam in the 1950’s.

You know by now that I’m an enthusiastic, but not outstanding uke player.  What I may lack in ability, I try to make up for in practice and constant proximity to a uke.  On any trip more than a night, I bring a uke with me, and had one with me last week in Park City for the Sundance Film festival.  Everyone loves picking up the Uke and Vice Magazine’s Eddy Moretti—an accomplished guitar player was hooked.  It’s the easy sound, and comfortable size and weight that makes the uke so cool.  A integral part of Polynesian culture, Tahitian ukes are rare, with a totally different sound and vibe.  Eddy’s partner, Shane Smith and his lovely wife, Tamika,  hauled a beautiful Tahitian uke back for me over the holidays.

The visit to Kamaka was made particularly sweet by Fred’s narrative, and old school toughness.  Clearly this guy was not only a taskmaster, but an ass kicker when it came to, and comes to doing things his way, the right way. Fred clearly knows how he wants things done.  The automation of things like cad/cam cutting of uke necks, are a product of the next generation of Kamakas.  And, while Fred seemed skeptical about the change from a one piece to two piece neck, he was clearly happy to no longer be producing vast amounts of what he calls “the world’s most expensive sawdust,” koa is $30 a linear foot.

The trip to Kamaka was akin to taking my girls to the American Girl store on 5^th Avenue in NYC.  Like Camille and Daisy with their dolls in tow, I had my tweed cased 1969 Kamaka Soprano over my shoulder. I was eager to bring the uke back home and for Fred and Co. to hear the sweet tone of a very special uke.  My ukes aren’t the prettiest, but I only keep the ones that have that sweet tone that I love.  Fred liked my uke, but didn’t gush over it the way a proud father hoped he would.  I was able to sneak off the tour and spend some time with Fred’s nephew Chris, who showed me some of the amazing custom work that only the Kamaka family members work on.  I have a couple of uke projects in the works, but nothing like these Kamaka customs.  After some prodding, I was able to get Chris to acknowledge my uke’s special sound.

It was a special hour on the last day of an amazing year.  Fred’s narrative centered me on the need to focus on the love of family, hard work, attention to detail, and old school appreciation of doing things the right way.  Like my father, who would have been Fred’s age; the islands, family, love, focus, respect and empathy are a big part of what makes Sam and Kamaka special.  They operate Kamaka under a simple motto, “If you make instruments and use the family name, don’t make junk.”

I’m a creature of habit in most things I do, from the prescriptive nature of the things I love to where I travel when I have free time. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that I’ve spent every Christmas holiday — other than the millennium year — in Honolulu.

Honolulu is a second home for me. And there are the things I do and wear in Honolulu that get me through the six months away, until I can’t stand it anymore and have to go back.

I’m lucky to rent the same house on the beach in Kahala, keep a small quiver of boards there, surf the same spots, and hang with the same friends. Though the neighborhood is super gentrified, my holiday house is a ‘60s throwback with a lava rock wall and pond, a spiral staircase, and white shag carpeting. (I also love the kitsch of a neighbor’s palm tree brace fashioned from car jacks. Classic.)

I don’t wear Aloha shirts much, but it’s all I wear when I’m here. My good friend Steve Rabineau has generously gifted his doubles to me, and I’ve added to my small collection with some select purchases from Bailey’s Antiques in Kapahulu. A god among Japanese collectors, David Bailey has the best vintage aloha shirts, he’s used his expertise to remake classic patterns so that four-figure shirts are affordable. Some of Bailey’s museum-quality collection are in Rin Tanaka’s book My Freedamn! Seven: Vintage Beach Fashions (legendary Hawaiian waterman Dale Hope’s definitive work on Aloha shirts is great, too).

As a kid, my family and I always stayed with friends at The Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Over the two-week holiday, we kids grew up there together — from kindergarten through college. I’m still in touch with some of those kids now, including Leigh Reichley, who’s now a coworker. We all surfed, gossiped, nightclubbed, made out, and hung out. The Royal just had an amazing renovation. It’s great to see the Pink Palace restored to its full glory.

Royal Hawaiian Hotel...Mid-70's..check out those custom Quiksilver boardies

Surfing plays a big part of my time in Honolulu, and I’ve been blessed with great surf on this trip and on an earlier trip here in June. June delivered south swell after south swell, truly epic double-overhead surf that looked more like Sunset than Queens. My local buddy Carnet Williams and I have scored Diamond Head and Queens on this trip, with perfect glassy conditions and head high peaks.

Food-wise, the best poke, boiled peanuts, and pickled Maui onions in Hawaii are at Fort Ruger market, just behind Diamond Head.

I’ve honed my Hawaii quiver down to a couple of boards, a mint 40-year-old 10’0 Surfboards Hawaii Model A, and a 6’0” Christiansen Fish. The first stop on the way into town from the airport is to visit Toru Yamaguchi at Surf Garage, where the Model A hangs out between visits. Toru has one of the coolest surf shops in the world, and provides a great board storage service for me and Japanese nationals who are fed up with $175+ one-way fees — dings provided for free — that the airlines offer. Surf Garage brings back memories of riding my super surfer skateboard from Manhattan Beach to E.T. Surfboards in Hermosa Beach. Shop owner Eddie Talbot always made us groms feel welcome and cool, especially after getting vibed by big shots at other shops.

The Kahala downtime is also a chance to work on my uke skills after listening to AM940’s traditional Hawaiian fare, and seeing great local musicians at the Halekulani Hotel.

Surf, family, great friends, perfect sushi, glassy head-high peaks, and playing the uke in a hammock… This is the fuel that gets me through the time between visits back to paradise.

Aloha.