Awful Satisfying Day
Getting near the breaking point today - something and to give and it turned out to be the trip to Taira’s. I was getting desperate for some intelligent company, even if was only me talking to myself. So I announced that I was going to find Tower Records and might spend several hours there – which turned out to be completely true. Half the joy of a record search (substitute CD if you wish) is in the hunt.
The first challenge was finding Tower all by myself. From maps, I determined it was just across Shinjuku Station on the opposite side, to the east. Not wanting to hazard one of the busiest stations in the world during rush hour, I decided to go north, then east, then south. Then I had no idea where I was, but I knew I was close. After wandering around for a while, too long a while, suddenly I saw “TOWER” on a big fucking building and walked right in, up a whole bunch of elevators, until there were CDs in sight. I’d found the store, but now to find Tomoyasu Hotei.
I wandered around the 7th floor and found nothing close, same with the 8th. On the 9th floor, I found jazz, new age, and progressive rock. The quarry was near, but the order didn’t make sense. When the artists were listed in English and alphabetical, sometimes they’d index off the first name, other times the last. Why are there way too many Spike Jones CDs in the same New Age section as John Cage and John Tesh? Aha! – in Classical – a Furtwangler Collectors Series Edition to die (and maybe - if you believe the press, even to kill, for) loaded to the gills with 50s Beethoven radio concerts. Can’t buy it now, came here for the Hotei. Gave up and asked, then the real fun began – crossing the language barrier the other way.
When Americans know foreigners can’t understand them, they talk slow and loud; when foreigners know Americans can’t understand them, they talk quickly in high-pitched tones, I wrote “HOTEI” on a piece of paper. Tika-san made gestures like he was smoking a cigar and pointed frantically at the floor. I wrote “KILL BILL – MOVIE” on the paper and he grabbed the phone and asked terse questions which apparently required long thoughtful responses. After about 5 minutes, he dashed downstairs and returned with two copies of the Kill Bill soundtrack, one with an English cover and another in Japanese. We both pointed simultaneously to track 9, “Battle Without Honor Or Humanity” and were totally excited that we’d connected at last.
Then I wrote “GREATEST HITS” under the name TOMOYASU HOTEI” and he was confused again. I pointed at “KILL BILL – MOVIE” and made a gesture like it was real close, but then X’d it out and pointed to “GREATEST HITS.” Tika-san goes back to the phone for a sequel and reduxes the cigar and finger routine, then points to a store diagram for the 7th floor and the words “J-ROCK.” Yes, connected again, he must go down to the 7th floor to get the CD. He returns with it. I buy it, and the Japanese Kill Bill just to show my gratitude.
Outside it’s raining. In no time I’m wet and have no idea where I am. If I can find the subway station, I’m out of the rain and that seems like a good game plan. But all the entrances I find have turnstiles and I don’t want to ride the train, just go across the station from east to west. I start walking the direction I believe to be north, but there are no recognizable landmarks. A little later, there are no lights and what I thought were sidewalks are really narrow streets with occasional cars and motorcycles whizzing by way too fast.
I find a map with a “YOU ARE HERE” symbol on it, but my glasses are fogged over and I can’t really tell where “HERE” is. That happened a couple of times.I wander around like this, maybe in circles, for a good half hour. I’m getting soaking wet and my khaki pants are drooping to where I fear I’ll trip over my right cuff. I roll it up, but it just unravels again, several times. Finally, I hoist my pants to where the waist is just below my nipples and tighten the belt as tight as I can. That worked.
As bad as things got, all I could think is that I was just looking like an idiot, at least nobody is talking to me like I’m one – and that made me smile.
I found a subway diagram that seemed to indicate that I had been going east - way, way too far east, So I found a landmark to the west and headed towards it. But the road turned and the landmark disappeared in the fog. A group of people started forming ahead of me. More joined, it aggregated and became progressively larger. Then they went down a covered staircase. I looked at the sign over the staircase – it said SHINJUKU STATION.
With their help, I had rediscovered the second largest train station in Tokyo, maybe the world.
After a few misdirections inside, I found I was only a couple of blocks away from the hotel. Some zigzagging about and there was a recognizable landmark, a multi-storied electronics store with flashing neon and cheesy munchkin music that the employees sang along with as they hauled boxes to display areas.
I was home.
Back in the room, I put away my trophy CDs, hung the soaked clothes up to dry, freshened up, and went downstairs to the Brilliant cocktail lounge. I quaffed a couple of beers and some “seard” (that’s what the menu said) beef carpaccio with julienne ginger and freshly grated pepper. Reminded me that you don’t have to eat very much when you have flavors that explode in your mouth; made me think that the reason people eat too much is that they become junkies to unsatisfying food and have to eat more and more of it when all they really need is a lot of flavor. =
7:55:09 AM 
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