Janis loves freaky. Tim loves Tiki. Together, they’ve created the Alani Kai, the perfect blend of both.
If you conjured up two Goth teenagers from the Addams Family, gave them the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo for a set of wheels, and tossed them into the middle of “The Tiki Caves” (the Hawaiian vacation episodes of the Brady Bunch), you’d get Janis and Tim’s vibe. Janis grew up with nitrous oxide tanks around the house while she watched low-budget horror films. Tim grew up attending The Luau while his family was camping at Disney. Both spent their high school years dressed mostly in black and loved to collect the unusual. So when they met and fell in love, it was freaky and Tiki combined.
Like many exceptional home tiki bars, the Alani Kai has rooms within rooms. Janis’ space is called the Ghoulerie, a macabre gallery where anatomical parts cavort with Witco. It’s the epicenter of oddities in their shared space. Janis has a collection of Tim’s baby teeth saved from his childhood. A real hornbill skull sits under glass. Ceremonial masks from the Dani tribe from Papua New Guinea frown back at you. A tiara made from Muskrat bones sits carefully reconstructed after it started to fall apart the one time Janis tried to wear it. When you take a moment to sit down on the Witco sofa and look up, you’ll see x-rays of body parts used as screens for the overhead lights. Just be careful not to bump your knee bones on the massive Witco dragon arms when you finally get up. Tim’s gifts to Janis also find a home here. One year, a bone saw was the must-have gift for the holidays. Another time, it was a set of witch’s nose molds. Interestingly, the only oddity that gives Janis a little bit of the creeps is the quite old human finger bone that sits defiantly on the shelf.
Tim’s rooms within the Alani Kai demonstrate his luck and skill as both a tiki treasure hunter and architectural salvage saint. “I’ve been collecting Tiki for a long time. At most any point in my life, I’ve had something Tiki,” remarked Tim. Polynesiacs will find priceless relics of Tiki history at the Alani Kai. Tim pointed out the enormous outrigger canoe hanging from the ceiling as we toured his acquisitions. Tim salvaged it from Chin Tiki, Detroit’s 1965 tiki-themed supper club owned by Marvin Chin. There’s an elaborate ceremonial door from New Zealand and several beautifully carved tikis from artists like LeRoy Schmaltz of Oceanic Arts and the original Tiki Revival Artist Bosko. Menehune, saved from the old United Airlines travel promotions, grace both sides of the fireplace. A rare and intact Witco fountain provides the constant sounds of water in the middle of the bar, while numerous lamps provide a constant orange glow. It’s all quite intentional. Alani Kai, the name of Tim and Janis’ space, translates to “sea of orange,” that fleeting moment of fiery reflection on the water right before the sun sets. Yet here, the light is never fleeting. It’s timeless and eternal.
Taking in the warm glow, I started to daydream a bit as I sipped on my Cherry Kai, a delicious sour cherry elixir co-created by Janis and Tim … cue the dream sequence music.
I found myself in the Tiki Caves episode. Mike Brady had just rushed in to save the boys from Vincent Price. Carol Brady sweetly exclaims, “You know, there are some very weird things in here,” to which Mike quickly retorts, “Boy, you’re telling me.” It starts to dawn on me. The mystery is solved. The Brady Bunch hadn’t been to Hawaii at all. They were really talking about the Alani Kai. You see it, too, right? Suddenly, two extra characters appear in the final scene, dressed mostly in black. Janis and Tim would have to respond with something like “Gee, whiz. You say the nicest things!” Scooby Doo says “ruh, roh!” Cue the laugh track, cue the happy theme song, and all would be right with the world.
It’s not hard to imagine. The world is a much better place at the Alani Kai.
