Published: March 27, 2008 09:51 pm            

Life choices over soup

I can’t remember when it passed from the scene, but if you turned back the clock 30 years and some change, it’d be on a lot of people’s lists of the best eateries in the Tri-State area.

The Makiki was part of an also-no-longer Holiday Inn, a fixture on Huntington’s east end and on the right side of U.S. 60 if you were headed east toward the 29th Street exit.

The fare, as I recall, was Polynesian. If I’ve erred on that point, please understand that I’ve always been a connoisseur of meat and taters sophistication whose association with anything more exotic was limited.

Suffice it to say that back in those days, I believed it to be Polynesian ... and I liked it. I liked it so well that I always opted for one of the specialty dinners despite the fact that steak was also on the menu.

“In those days ...”

I believe it was sometime in the ’70s. Whenever it was, it pre-dated the big roaring volcano at Huntington’s downtown Holiday Inn. The Makiki had a more sedate, peaceful atmosphere symbolized by a decor that included water flowing down gently behind glass panels in the walls.

There were lots of evenings spent at that restaurant, but one that was particularly memorable. It began in customary fashion, with me spooning away at a bowl of wonton soup.

At that point and rather unexpectedly, the manager walked into the middle of the dining area with a microphone in his hand, begged our pardon for the interruption, and said he had an announcement to make.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “we have a special guest with us this evening and I hope you’ll join me in extending a warm welcome to Rory Calhoun.”

Son of a gun. Rory Calhoun. I was never a big fan of his movies, but it was kinda neat to be having dinner in the same room with him.

Well, Rory comes out and walks up to the manager, takes the microphone, and flashing a big smile, says, “Thank you, everyone. I'm so happy to be with all of you tonight here in this great state of Virginia.”

For just one second, the restaurant fell silent, and then began a chorus of hooting and snorting, good-natured but the likes of which had never been heard in this quiet little eatery.

In an instant, the manager was whispering something in the actor’s ear, and there was little doubt among the crowd about what that would have been ... “WEST Virginia, Mr. Calhoun.”

Right then and there, any aspirations I might have had for the life of a celebrity or the power of political office came to a screeching halt. These people are “on the go” so much that remembering where they are in a given moment must sometimes be a chore.

For the Hollywood types, it’s traveling to promote films and attend openings, getting to wherever “on location” is, meeting with directors and screenwriters, and shuttling on breaks between home and sets some distance away.

For the politicians, it’s what we’re seeing right now — whirlwind campaigning to stump for votes in one community after another, day after day. A good campaign worker who can keep track of the itinerary must certainly be a valuable commodity.

That’s when I decided it was the ordinary life for me, and it’s decidedly an ordinary life that I’ve had. I may not always understand what I’m doing, but I certainly know where I was when I got confused.

So Rory, if you’re looking down on this day, we’re coming to you from good old Kain-tuck, right next door to West Virginny where once upon a time years ago we all gave one another an evening to remember.

STAN CHAMPER can be reached at schamper@dailyindependent.com or (606) 326-2640.

        

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