(Like so many of us, I need a vacation. A few months ago, I found myself thinking about memorable events from memorable vacations. This one stood out.)
Each vacation to Japan has left me hanging on to some special memories. Like the time Shigeo and I traveled to Kyoto. In addition to enjoying the breathtakingly beautiful scenery, there was an opportunity to join a Japanese tea ceremony. Outside of yoga, I never gave thought to the idea that being present – in the moment – could be so relaxing. These days, I always reflect on that power of calm each time we enjoy tea at home.
On yet another trip, I was struck by the ingenuity of a system for parking one’s car in overcrowded Tokyo. Our friend, Heecheol, invited us over for a drive to the countryside, removed from the hustle and bustle of city life. Hanging out with locals is the absolute best way to experience places you’ve never been. You get to see things that public transit or tour excursions just don’t offer. We looked forward to being totally immersed in Japanese life. We left our friend’s high rise apartment and walked around to the back of the 20-story building. We followed Heecheol to a grey colored console panel which had several buttons and numbers of various colors on it. He pushed several, as if entering a code. Shigeo and I thought to ourselves, what is he doing?
At that moment we heard the sound of metal moving underground. Shortly thereafter, two giant steel doors opened at ground level. I was reminded of science fiction movies of the 1950s as we stood, transfixed, staring at the mechanical demonstration taking place. Mysteriously, a large steel-framed structure emerged from beneath the open doors, slowly and precisely. At the press of a button, Heecheol had called for mechanical retrieval and delivery of his Volvo station wagon. He walked over to the delivery pad and started the car. After moving it forward, away from the steel-framed structure, our friend motioned for us to hop in. Still holding looks of amazement on our faces, Shigeo and I watched as the structure retreated back to its below ground position. Quietly, the steel doors closed as if nothing had happened. Thirteen years later, that memory remains parked deep inside my mind as one happy moment.
But when I think of the high notes on many trips to Japan, our visit in 2008 stands out most clearly. Shigeo and I both love music. T he language of music unites people from all parts of the world. Great tempo, coupled with smooth and sophisticated melodies and rhythms, are what we love. As I perused the entertainment guides searching for shows coinciding with our travel dates in November 2008, I discovered we were going to miss Fourplay, our favorite jazz group. I did, however, see and purchase tickets for Booker T. and the M.G.’s performing at the famous Blue Note Tokyo. It promised to be a throwback to the ‘60s and ‘70s with memories of Memphis soul music and maybe even a good time.
The club was packed. Packed with cigarette smokers. A thick haze of smoke hung over the room, reminiscent of air pollution back home in Los Angeles. Our eyes burned. Fortunately, Shigeo brought along some eye drops which soothed our condition just as the show started. The house lights went down. We glanced at one another in delight as the crowd quieted. In the background, we could hear a steady drumbeat, the hypnotic bass and guitar riffs followed by the distinctive organ building to the opening song, Time is Tight. The stage lights went up and the crowd went wild. It was Booker T. and the M.G.’s live in Tokyo!
The band cycled through a series of their songs and some covers before Booker T. stopped, addressed the audience in English, and introduced a special guest performer, Kiyoshiro Imawano. Kiyoshiro was a huge star in Japan. He was a singer whose body of work included his own compositions as well as those of famous rockers. For this show, he performed two songs with the band. First was a smooth rendition of The Rascal’s, Groovin’. That was followed by a spirited cover of Wilson Pickett’s, In the Midnight Hour. By now, the energy in the club was infectious. People were standing, dancing, and swaying to the music. Even though I knew little of the Japanese language, dancing eyes and bodies spoke volumes about what was happening. It was simple. We all loved music.
Naturally, the night would be incomplete without hearing the band perform their biggest international hit, Green Onions. Kiyoshiro joined in too as the band transitioned to a rock-the-house version of Sam and Dave’s, Soul Man. His onstage singing style, movement, and attitude reminded me of Mick Jagger. Wiry, wild, and free. He was non-stop. He was alive. The show ended with thunderous applause and cheering. I thought to myself how special music is. The power of being connected with total strangers for a few hours on a November night in Tokyo was one of those moments in time. It was like a Japanese tea ceremony. We relaxed, we let everything go, and we existed in the moment. That’s when real memories are made.
As it turns out, that night would become known for yet another reason. It was the last live stage performance by Kiyoshiro. He died from throat cancer six-months later. Attending his funeral service in May 2009, were his friends, Booker T. and the M.G.’s.
The high note of that trip to Japan was truly a blue note.
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