He Bubbles With Good Humor

The younger the couple

The tighter the squeeze.

--Don Ho, from “E Lei Ka Lei Lei

(Beach Party Song)”

*

Among the modern marvels is this: Don Ho does not seem to get older.

At an age--71 in August--when the word “hip” is often followed by the word “replacement,” Ho, with his distinctive whiskey-baritone voice, remains the leading exponent of love Hawaiian style, undiminished by four decades of nonstop performing.

But if Ho has defied the calendar, his core audience has not.

And so on Thursday, Ho will appear as part of Salute to Seniors day at the Del Mar Fair, with shows at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. on the free-admission Showcase Stage. Every Thursday, the fair brings acts of particular interest to the older set.

“We still like to swing,” Ho explained by phone from Connecticut, where he had just finished a show at a Native American casino, “we just do it earlier now.”

Ho doesn’t just give concerts, he throws parties, with his audience invited to sing along and revel in the romance and myth of the islands. He mingles, he teases, he flirts with the ladies, he poses for pictures.

In Hawaii, he does a 7 p.m. show five nights a week at the Waikiki Beachcomber Hotel, a time that one wag suggested is a good fit for older tourists: in between early-bird dinner and early bedtime. Families with kids, or grandkids, are welcome.

The days are past when Ho’s midnight show at Duke Kahanamoku’s nightspot was the hottest, swingingest thing on Waikiki for honeymooners, college students, stewardesses and military personnel on leave from Vietnam.

As Kimo McVay, Duke’s owner, has explained, “Don drew all the chicks, and the chicks drew the guys.” Nights were filled with mai tais, “Pearly Shells,” “Ain’t No Big Thing,” “The Following Sea” and more.

For nearly 10 years, Ho did three shows nightly at Duke’s. The midnight show, the one with no cover, no minimum, had a devoted following.

“You guys could stay up in those days to 3 a.m. partying with us every night and be fine,” Ho told a former midnight-show regular last week. “What time do you go to bed these days?”

“About 10 p.m.,” came the response.

“Me too,” Ho confessed.

His mainland gigs are smaller and less flashy than the days of network television specials and SRO at the Cocoanut Grove. Mostly he does the Native American casino circuit, Las Vegas, and an occasional summer fair or suburban theater.

“I didn’t know there were so many people from the ‘60s, ‘70s, ‘80s, who maybe visited Hawaii but haven’t been able to come back since,” Ho said. “They come to our show for the memories.”

At Duke’s he would announce that song requests from honeymooning couples would be given priority because he knew they wanted to leave early and return to their hotel rooms.

Now the jokes are more about senior discounts and Viagra. He used to kiss all the women but stopped after a grandmother-aged fan dropped dead in his arms.

No more does he match his audience drink-for-drink, calling out “suck ‘em up” and throwing back shots of Chivas Regal. That glass on his keyboard is water or pineapple juice. He gave up drinking and smoking 15 years ago.

“You have to learn to enjoy life without that stuff,” he said.

A former star athlete and Air Force pilot, he keeps in shape with a rigorous diet, afternoon naps and golf. He has a hearing aid but hates to wear it.

A business group in Hawaii named Ho “Salesman of the Century” for his role in boosting tourism. “Most people know only three things about Hawaii: Diamond Head, Pearl Harbor and Don Ho,” said music promoter Tom Moffatt, a Ho pal since the 1960s.

Although his shows attract mostly the mature of years, Ho has been “discovered” by a new generation, who are learning, as all generations must, that true insouciance is not hemmed in by age and that ring-a-ding is eternal.

A couple of years ago, he was invited to the annual Weenie Roast by Los Angeles radio station KROQ-FM, where he sang his signature “Tiny Bubbles” to thousands of alternative-rock enthusiasts. To his amazement, most knew the words.

“Don Ho is one of the last of the true classics, the free-and-easy, hanging-out-at-the-bar kind of singers,” said Adrian Demain, who plays steel guitar and ukulele with the San Diego band Cheap Leis. “He’s the Hawaiian equivalent to Frank, Sammy and Dean in Vegas.”

Riding a crest of ‘60s retro-chic, Ho was named by trendy-libidinous Maxim magazine as one of its “50 Coolest Guys Ever.” He sang the National Anthem at a Lakers game and starred in a TV commercial for Labatt, the Canadian beer.

In his film debut, he played an evil landlord in “Joe’s Apartment,” a 1996 film about singing cockroaches that is achieving cult status.

And for those who have missed his other credentials, he’s known as the father of Hoku, a rising star (“Another Dumb Blonde”) in pop music. Hoku, 19, may join her father on stage at Del Mar.

With 10 children, a bunch of grandchildren, and an entourage to support, Ho says he has no plans to retire.

Besides, he said, “singing is what keeps me young.”