April 15, 2007

International Male

The week since my return from Tokyo has been flavored with the worst jet lag I’ve ever experienced. Eleven-hour sleeping jags punctuated with ridiculous insomniac episodes. As Yoshi says, in his most disdainful voice, “Of course.”

Anyway, the city was awesome, as predicted. I love this place. When I was younger, I would dream of traveling. Idle dreams. It didn’t become clear until later that international travel doesn’t just happen to you – you actually have to do things.

Of course, these days it’s a little harder in some ways. At LAX, on the way to my flight, an eagle-eyed, superstitious DHS airport screener literally yelped with glee to see my half-drunk bottle of water going through the xray machine.

Her: Oh! What’s this? You’re not allowed to bring this in here.

Me: There weren’t any signs saying that.

Her: It’s been on the news.

Me: Yeah, I just really thought we’d be over that stuff by now.

Her (deadly serious): Oh, no. It’s going to get worse! They tried to blow up a plane. As long as they can make bombs with this stuff, it’s going to get worse. We can’t let you take liquid on a plane.

Me: But that’s not true. It’s scientifically impossible…

Her: It is true, sir.

Naturally, I wasn’t allowed to drink the remainder of my potentially explosive dihydrogen monoxide on the spot, in front of her. This rule might seem kinda counterintuitive if – as I had assumed – the purpose is to screen out toxins and liguids other than water! But that’s some pre-9/11 thinking right there. Who knows if terrorists have figured out a way to combine a colorless, odorless liquid with stomach acids to form a time-released explosion with the power to depressurize a cabin at 35,000 feet? I think it was in that 24 episode where Jack Bauer’s adversary had the really awful diarrhea.

Apparently, Kip Hawley isn’t the only idiot around here. And here I am bitching about our Homeland overlords; that’s so 2003.

Anyways, back to the fun stuff: Japan! Please check out my 130+ gallery of memories... and don’t judge me for photo-stalking the Singapore Air hostesses. You haven’t flown a mile in my pants.

In the weeks to come, I will be sharing rips of some great-looking records I scored in Tokyo. I also got a lot of old weird japanese pop stuff from the bargain bin at punk store NAT Records in Shinjuku (Shinmei Building 2F, 7-33 Nishi-Shinjuku, Tokyo 160), but trust me, I made the rounds. This is only about half of the 7-inches that I nabbed, and we’re not even talking about all the magazines, comix and CDs. Just what I needed! (Sarcasm.) However, your gain is my loss, or will be, or something.

Anyway, I’d like to thank all my Tokyo pals for the warm welcome they gave me in spite of my rude ways and Western odor. Shout outs to Onoching, Masami, Wild OX, Terumi, Elizabeth, Mike, Nori, Atchan, Rockin’ Jellybean, Shaku, and all the other cool folks whose names I cannot recall right now. Special thanks to Kazuha for letting me crash in her Nakano manshon, among her literally priceless collection of 1950s porcelain, Funny Face and Weird-Ohs premiums, Sailor Jerry flash art, and her handsome tomcat Sue.

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Miami soul singer George McCrae is mainly known for this monster disco hit from my childhood. There’s probably a good “A Star is Born”-style film drama to be drawn from his former romantic/management relationship with his hitmaking ex-wife Gwen McCrae (I like her records, too), but George was there first in 1974, riding the crest of the disco wave with some smooth crossover soul for those of us too young to Hustle. The steady rockin’ backing group is none other than KC’s Sunshine Band!

George is still going strong – check out his rather primitive webpage that makes my browser crash. Read his grandiose bio that, with its superstar hyperbole, deserves an audiobook reading by the guy from J&H Productions! No matter, this is still a great song. Now let me get back to my nihongo benkyo o suru. What? Oh, that’s French, baby. It means, “You are incredible.”

George McCrae – “Rock Your Baby”
George McCrae – “Rock Your Baby (Pt. 2)”

Rick at 7:42 pm

Comments (4)

4 CommentsÈ

thanks a lot rick, because of you, the terrorists won…

Comment by William Thirteen Ñ April 16, 2007 @ 3:19 pm
Thanks for helping us win!
Love,
The Terrorists
PS: We still hate freedom!
PPS: We admire your record-hunting dedication: We were in Japan (doing the terror thing, natch), we could never muster the energy to surf through the mounds of records we found. It was much easier to stand on the street corner and stare at people. And to wish that we could bring back to the States all the legal fireworks sold in Japan. Sigh!

Comment by Ivan Stavro Blofield Ñ April 17, 2007 @ 7:45 am
The pics were cool! Glad to see that my neighborhood power lines are not the only thing that will factor into your sterility. No post whale-consuming pics this year??

Comment by Broski Ñ April 17, 2007 @ 7:20 pm
Fuck,_this_IS_you_I_love_this_…this_…Oh_Christ,_Do_I_really_have_to_admit_to_loving_a_blog?

Comment by dac Ñ February 16, 2008 @ 4:50 am