Back in the day, Waikiki boasted some “characters” who weren’t marquee showroom acts but nonetheless enjoyed “celebrity” status for their deeds.

I refer to folks who stood out amid the Kalakaua Avenue mainstream, who provided different strokes in shaping a distinct presence within the visitor spectrum.

SIDEWALK SERENADER

One of the most memorable chaps was Eddie Kekaula, who became an infamous trouper not in the usual sense. His ship was the sidewalks of Waikiki, primarily on Kalakaua Avenue, anchored a stone’s throw from the Sheraton Princess Kaiulani pool.

He had the right look — a handsome Hawaiian, clad in white with a red lei, with a powerful voice and a repertoire that worked. He was the street version of the grand voice of Hawaii, the late Alfred Apaka, and Kekaula became the talk of the town. He allegedly sold a million albums (vinyl and cassettes) in the 1970s, in that precious landscape where buskers still congregate today with less success. (Think Streetlight Cadence).

As the legend goes, Kekaula asked the PK management if he could use the adjoining area to serenade visitors and peddle his musical wares, at an agreed-on “rent” of $200 a month. He reportedly pitched his recordings for $6.75 and pocketed $5 of the sum, attracting showroom-sized audiences and selling 23,000 albums monthly, reporting to the hotel that he was amassing sales of $20,000 a month, according to the Pacific Business News. Stunned but impressed, the hotel wanted to up the fee to $600 a month.

Whether or not that happened, I can’t verify, but in retrospect, Kekaula had admitted his take was more like $90,000, according to the Hawaiian Music Foundation. He got bumped from that PK spot and moved to the Waikiki Shopping Plaza lobby, a less lucrative a site. …

HOT DOG, WITH RELISH

Then there was Hot Dog Annie — no one knew her real name, but everyone knew she peddled hot dogs from a stand on Kalakaua Avenue adjacent to Forbidden City, the strip club Jack Cione owned. She was largely nocturnal, coming to life in the wee hours between 2 and 5 a.m., after the night spots shut down. Must’ve been in the late ’60s to the mid-70s.

Entertainers of the era would show up, for a pau hana bite, but the food was not the draw. Hot Dog Annie was the show; she was loud in volume and lewd in language and short on manners.

Her salty words may have been off-putting to some, but she filled a niche in a wacky Waikiki moment, partly because she was like a late, late, late show, with a trusty ukulele and a song list of bawdy tunes and jokes with expletives galore.

Her costume might have been a twinkly gown, more gaudy than gorgeous, and her Afro wigs in gray, purple or pink, were her crowning glory.

During the daytime, she’d don gaudy, huge sunglasses to suit her oversized persona. She showed up at The Honolulu Advertiser, during my presence there, and surely caused a buzz. Outside her turf, she was clearly a disturbance and distraction. She went out of business when her stand went up in flames. It might have been deliberately set afire by someone who disapproved of her style or perhaps she did it for the insurance. …

MANAGER TO THE STARS

For nearly five decades, beginning in the ’60s, Kimo Wilder McVay was the king of entertainment managers. His A-list stable included Tavana, the star of his own Polynesian show; Duke Kahanamoku, the legendary surfer whose name McVay used to launch the Duke Kahanamoku’s nightclub; Don Ho, the “Tiny Bubbles” and “I’ll Remember You” hit-maker who put Duke’s on the map; Robin Luke, the Punahou senior of “Susie Darlin’” recording fame; Keola and Kapono Beamer, the Hawaiian music duo; John Rowles, the New Zealand composer-crooner of “Cheryl Moana Marie” success; Andy Bumatai, the homegrown stand-up comic; Freddie Morris, the singer-ventriloquist; and John Hirokawa, the star of his own magic show.

“They don’t make them like him anymore,” entertainer Ho said when McVay died. “He was a one-of-a-kind.” Comedian Bumatai opined, “I’m not sure any one of us would have gotten any attention without him making noise.”

Indeed, he was inventive and ingenious and hyperbole was his style. McVay heralded the Beamers as “Hawaii’s Youngest Legends” and hyped Bumatai as “Hawaii’s First Stand-up Comic.”

When Luke’s “Susie” tune was released, McVay blanketed local deejays with publicity with even a national reach, as top radio stations helped boost the tune to the charts. Luke also earned an appearance on “American Bandstand,” Dick Clark’s signature TV show of pop music and artists.

At Duke’s, McVay created an overnight sensation: the collectible “Suck ‘Em Up” glasses that spectators could take home, after sipping mai tais. Celebs were often spotted hauling stacks of six to eight souvenirs home.

He “invented” the cockroach races, patterned like a Kentucky Derby horse race, at Blaisdell Arena, as a publicity tool to promote Bumatai’s gig. For a collectible trophy, he had actual roaches dipped in gold. And when ventriloquist Morris introduced a new companion doll, McVay named it Moku Kahana, as a tribute to, whom else, The Duke himself.

On St. Patrick’s Day, McVay would show up in green as “Knuckles McVay,” manning the keyboards at the Columbia Inn. He also briefly ran a bar-lounge at the Reef Hotel, dubbed the Baron of Waikiki, with take-home logo drink glasses.

Our town has not seen anyone one quite like him since. …

ALOHA TO JOY

“A Tribute to Joy Abbott,” a celebration of life event honoring the singer-athlete who was the widow of the iconic Broadway producer-director-composer, George Abbott, will be held from 9:30 to 11 a.m. March 28 at Thurston Chapel at Punahou School.

Singer Cathy Foy, backed by pianist Jim Howard, will entertain. The Rev. George Scott will officiate.

Friends also will deliver remembrances and reflections of Abbott, who maintained residences in Honolulu, Philadelphia and Miami, until her death Feb. 8 at age 88. …

And that’s “Show Biz.”

Wayne Harada is a veteran entertainment columnist. Reach him at 266-0926 or wayneharada@gmail.com.