A Quiet Sunday Evening
Ok, kids, I’m going to fess up. You know how hard I worked in Asia! And the hassle… the language problem, the Asian fascination with the fat old white man, the way too long away from home syndrome, yada, yada.
So, I’m in Tokyo with Richard Betts and we are trying to figure out the accounting system. In the middle of the financial foreplay with the accountant, Ikagami-san decides to call George, and then hands the phone to me. George asks me if I want to go to a concert Sunday night. I said, “Sure, count us in.”
Now the last time I went to a “concert” with the Azumas, we wandered through a back neighborhood for an hour before we came upon a little church where we witnessed a lovely classical senior music major concert of their daughter who plays the cello.
George and Hiromi are active members of our little congregation. George is an Elder. Hiromi is the church organist. The worship service on Sunday is quiet, nice, typical Community of Christ worship. Sunday morning, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Hiromi.
Anyway, Richard and I spent the rest of the day in meetings and by 7:00 p.m. were on a train to Shin-juku, We considered McD’s and flopping on the bed in the hotel room for the evening, but decided we didn’t want to disappoint the Azumas (After, all, they may be saving us a seat on a church pew somewhere!) So, off we went. We gave the address to a taxi driver and watched as he GPSed us and then got lost.
Finally, we stop in front of a small neighborhood bookstore. We don’t see anything to indicate a concert, so wander off up the street. I ask for directions at the corner 7-11. They send us back to the bookstore. Sure enough, around the corner, down the stairs, through two soundproof doors, and we are in a little bar. We are escorted to a table on the front row of three rows, facing a stage the size of a pickup truck bed. However, on that stage were eleven Japanese men playing the hits of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s: a tribute to the Beatles, a taste of classic Motown, grooving to the Bee Gees…. They were as bald and grey as me. Their singing English was pretty good, but Richard and I both agreed they hadn’t a clue what they were singing. It was a hoot. It was a great set and I was groovin'--reliving the music of my youth.
Their music finished, the stage cleared for the next act. Richard leaned over and observed that this was no church concert. Out comes the new band—Moonrocks. Hiromi, as lead singer, captured the stage. George, with the lead guitar, danced all over everything. I kept trying to keep the picture in my mind of the morning show: sweet Hiromi at the organ patiently leading the congregation in singing, George presiding and translating my sermon. Didn’t work.
Around 10:00 p.m. Moonrocks left the stage and Richard and I were standing to call it a day—but, wait, there’s more! The band comes back on for an encore with Panta!!!!
Real name: Haruo Nakamura. He is a 50 year old “fabulously famous” "cult" rock star--singer/writer/composer in Japan. I cannot describe the energy—think Mick Jagger in his twenties. By the time he was done with the first number, I really thought he was going to have a heart attack. An hour later, we are introduced to all the musicians and day jobs: insurance salesman, real estate agent, firefighter, and teacher.
I’m sure Richard was talking to me in the taxi on the way home, but I didn’t hear a thing. As the hearing slowly came back, I was trying to figure out how to get the kids in the brand new handbell choir I had started in Seoul to give me that kind of energy and enthusiasm. (Kids here, even on the music scene are taught to be quiet, reserved…so handbell choir has been about precision—technique—rather than music and emotion. And of course, being directed by Mr. Boredom in English doesn’t help!)
