Nintendo Word Play

Time trickles along and the end of a second year is looming near. Two years in Japan, another visit back to America for another good friend’s wedding. Life’s little games playing themselves out.

I’ve turned 29 in this country a couple of months ago. Another year closer to something and by my itinerary, I’ll be careening into thirties while I’m teaching English in the land of rice fields and curry rice.

Before that I participated in my first Japanese semi-traditional dance festival, the Suzume Odori (Sparrow Dance). Suzume Odori is a Sendai tradition that harkens back to the days of Date Masamune and the building of the castles by stonemasons. In their drunken after-parties, they were reported to have pranced around like loony birds, hence the Sparrow Dance. Sendai’s annual event for the dancing festivities is the Aoba Matsuri.

I joined forces with the ladies of Wakuya to partake in the Aoba Matsuri. And at times it was hell. Ruthless practice schedules, language barriers, language-less non-communication issues, and my inability to follow a basic beat reminded me of past failures in other dance routines, but somehow I was able to rise the ranks and become a high flying sparrow in the troupe. And after rain outs, sore ninja-clad feet, legs sore from twirling and walking, livers beaten by after-parties I’m glad I did it. Another nice check-mark on the list of new things to do in Japan.

On the day before my birthday was the last assault on the artistic dignity of the Miyagi area, I sang in a concert in town. It was my first time performing in front of crowd, a lifeless crowd but nevertheless a crowd. And I performed “Falling Slowly”, accompanied by Jane on violin, Takuya on the piano, Hiroko on backup vocals and Endo-lady on the drums (did we really need drums guys?). There’s no video or no pictures yet so you’ll just have to imagine what happened. But I finished, and checked another box off my list.

So here’s to another year as JET and more amusing things to put on my list. Maybe cross-country scooter rides, or moto-cross, or surfing. Who knows, but I know I need to do something to keep thing fresh out here.

And we can make a raft from all the dead trees
And set sail for better times
To a time when this love was not poisoned
I was kind and I was kind

…BP

Bloc Party – Atonement

What can ruin a great concert, in a great venue? Where they played most of the songs from my favorite Radiohead album, beer in hand, on break from my end of week in Oxnard trip?. White girls dancing, that’s what. White girls dancing and crooning to Radiohead, like Thom Yorke was the hottest thing in the dance clubs and they were booty shaking and gyrating to their offbeat heart’s content. Flailing arms and blonde hair everywhere. Makes a man soft. Makes him lose all will to listen and makes him want to drive back to Oxnard.

Great show nevertheless, old things can still be great just as long as they know when to die.

I didn’t even know there were rumors, I don’t follow gossip on the net, but they are true. Like the other band that called it quits recently, The Get Up Kids are calling it quits too. Here’s what they had to say on their website:.

“Say goodnight, but mean goodbye”

Ladies and gentlemen, the rumors are true. After ten years, close to a hundred recorded songs and several trips around the world, The Get Up Kids will be playing their last shows this summer. We’re celebrating the release of our as-of-yet-untitled live record and we’re coming around one final time. We’ll be playing gigs in the west, in the east and in the middle of the US. Our very last show will be in Kansas City, MO (our hometown) Fourth of July weekend 2005.

As a group we’d like to thank each and everyone of you for supporting us over the years. Whether we slept on your floor in ‘97 or you drove all the way to Lawrence to see us play in ‘05, we are forever grateful. We feel it’s best to let the last ten years speak as a document for what the band was. We can look back and say that we are proud of everything that we accomplished. In the end, we will always remember this as a good time;
we hope that you remember it that way too.

See you this summer,
The Get Up Kids

[posted 3/8/2005 U.S.A.]

Their last two albums were a departure from the usual emo formula but I found a place in my heart for both of them. It’s a shame my last memories of them were at a show where they opened up with a miniscule set list. But at least they didn’t go out like Michael Jackson, with F-upped faces and a history of touching the youngin’s.

So the other night I was at concert dying to see The Get Up Kids but to my dismay their set was extremely short and they received no love from the pre-pubescent crowd. Still it was a good show from the kids from Kansas.

Well after the stanky pit kids were done with the metal thrashings of Thrice, we went back onto the floor to get closer to Amy’s friend Thanya. We didn’t quite get past the packed crowd. This is when the guilt and shame should have taken over and sent me running back to my seat because headlining this show was Dashboard Confessionals (DC). I’ve been a fan when there was only one man and an acoustic guitar in the band, where kids in attendance would belt out every word in patronage to their jaded prince of dysfunctional relationships and growing up too fast. Deep inside me and every boy and girl there is that soft spot for tragic love ballads that make you want to wail to every word. The eighties had Extreme and REO Speedwagon, we have EMO.

Somewhere along the way, DC was chosen to become a big band by the secret masterminds that have shaped and manipulated the creation of music and music culture since the beginning of pop music. So along with popularity comes ridicule and hatred from the hipsters and haters. Once a band gets big or changes social demographics it loses all ties with the indie kids that helped raise the band to its popular status. What a shame.

And that takes us back to the night where I felt like a little school boy, lost in a crowd of closet and blatant fans alike, singing to our hearts content, frought with merriment. No longer confined to my car or the shower, I was singing with hundreds and dancing with giddiness. Its been a while since I’ve been to a rock show where I could actually move, where social grace allowed for the free flow movement of a spastic youth. Left with all the options, I would rather move like a mad man then to be a stiff uber hip pretentster. Ahhh… thank goodness for guilty pleasures.