Hoss made Hawaii kids hot stuff … or habut By
Lee Cataluna
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Is it possible that generations of Hawai'i-raised kids just went along with it, lemminglike and unquestioning?
How "Most Likely to Carry on a Weird Tradition," yeah?
Somebody has to know. What is a hoss election, anyway?
We all get the concept. Most high schools in Hawai'i have them at the end of the school year. You know, Best Dressed, Most Athletic, Cutest Smile, Most Likely to Succeed ...
But what is hoss? Why is it hoss and not HOF for "Hall of Fame" or something? What is the etymology of hoss? (And don't bring up "Bonanza" because somebody already beat you to that joke. Promise.)
A quick Google search seems to indicate that hoss is an exclusively Hawai'i phenomenon. Anecdotal evidence dates hoss elections at least back to the 1960s.
If you know, share your 'ike. But only if you know for sure. If you're guessing, or riffing, or really just want to publicly reminisce that you were Class Dream Boat or that Jayzelle Dulatre cheated you out of "Best Dancer" while you went on to win second place pop-locking at Brown Bags to Stardom behind first place Bits-N-Pieces whereas Jayzelle never smurfed to Yarborough and Peeples again after that unfortunate Tilt-A-Whirl incident, well, save that for your memoirs. We all got hoss hurt of our own. Even Most Likely to Succeed was a little envious of Nicest Eyes.
Some schools had specific hosses for certain groups. The marching band hoss election might include Most Likely to Play During a Rest or Nastiest Spit Valve. Drama club hoss elections would be like the Oscars or Tonys or MTV Movie Awards. Best Villain, Loudest Scream, Worst Fake British Accent.
Imagine the legislative session coming to a close and somewhere, maybe in Shan Tsutsui's office, a list circulating with Best Ho'omalimali-ing, Most Juiced-up Publicity Photo, Most Likely to Fall Asleep in Committee Meetings.
Ah, that would never happen. Fights would break out over who got to be Least Likely to Run for Congress.
Because at the heart of hoss is that insecurity — say anything about me, just please say something. Just so that when I'm in my 40s and far down the road to Most Unremarkable, I can have that mention in the yearbook to prove I was something once. I'm nobody now, but back then, I was hossed.
Years later, the truth comes to pass.
Best Dressed wears a size 14 now. Most Likely to Succeed doesn't come to reunions because he's scared all the losers are going to hit him up for money. Most School Spirit, the saddest hosser of all, always gets stuck organizing the reunion.
Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.