THE Masayuki Paradise

  It's now been around 12 years, in late summer 1988, that I made my album debut with ' THE Pokopokkon '. My beloved admin from the Nakano-sakaue corp called from beneath the window of my workspace. "Oy, Mr. Yamamoto, are you awake?" It was 2:00 at dawn. I think I was probably in the middle of composing for the History Series. I pulled the curtains, opened the window, and popped my head out, "Yeah, I'm awake, what is it?" The elderly hurled something about the size of a softball, "Look!" (my workspace is on the second floor) I hurriedly held both hands out to take it. It was a  Häagen-Dazs ice cream. The elderly was staggering around, his face red. He was in good spirit. "Thanks, man. Wanna bite?" "It's alright, I'll eat with my mom" The elderly grew up downtown and used to be a construction worker in Kiba. "Mr. Yamamoto, you wouldn't be able to do that anymore", the elderly's scaffold, a courty...

  I don't frequently go to 1st and 3rd Streets. 4th Street is Washington Square; 14th Street is Union Square; 29th Street is where the Bencoil residence lives, and 33rd Street has subway station 6. I take so many steps. Hmmm, I don't like the "district" wording, let's stick with the real "street" wording. 42nd to 48th Streets are courtyards. Pass directly beneath Chrysler, past the soap store, the gift shop, the pharmacy, optical outlets, McDonald's, general goods, deli, lingerie store, Wendy's, another deli, the glitzy Roger Smith Hotel, a drugstore that is similar to that of Kiyoshi Matsumoto, and finally, to Radisson Hotel.  Until last year (1999), that place was named Lexington Hotel. Time flies. The historical Lexington Hotel that You Yamamoto and I stayed in 1984 no longer exists. There wasn't a Beekman diner on 1st Street. Not even Paparazzi Morning Star on 2nd Street either. Time flies relentlessly. There, in front of the west end of ...

  Hey everybody! I went to an autograph session! -- Osaka , 80 people, including 4 women (5% on sales tax) -- Kyoto , 71 people, including 5 women (amongst, 1 attended with a child - a male) -- Nagoya , 30 people, including 3 women (10% as expected from a local) -- Tokyo , 116 people, including 6 women (plus an anonymous maid in a yukata) -- Hakata , 38 people, including 9 women ( amongst, 1 attended with a child - another male ) Total: 335 attendees, including 27 women. Oh man! All I saw were guys! I arrived at the new Osaka Station via a Shinkansen [bullet train] at midday, August 4th, where it was a scorching 38°C. I got interviews for a town magazine and Osaka Shimbun [now Sankei Shimbun] before taking the JR train to Kobe in the evening. After abandoning my luggage at the hotel, I had dinner at a Chinese restaurant catered at Chinatown; it was light and tasty. At 9:00PM, I entered Radio Kansai. Iwachan [Kazuo Iwasaki] and Kaorin [Kaori Minami] greeted me with a grin. Tomoko...

  Summer vacation was almost over. I had promised myself that year I would do five pages a day without hoarding any homework, but it was no good. I took a peek at my sister's weather [report] in her picture diary, I was able to duplicate Keiko's record of morning glories from a Katomotor [vehicle brand], Yu helped me with more than half of my work, yet I was  able to complete a traffic volume survey in front of the town hall and the station, which I had decided to do as a freeform assignment. Every day we went to inspect them by bicycle. Nobo was very skilled at the trumpet, Hisa played the contrabass, and I played the clarinet. While there was no training camp, we went to the music room every 6 in the morning to practice Over the Rainbow . The reed cut my lips as it pierced painfully whenever I drink miso soup. Should I buy a guitar? I mustn't break it this time. It's not a yakuza song; it's the Beatles. I went to stay at Ken's residence in Izumi-cho. My uncle...

  Susquehanna-gou no Eikou VI: Showa no Hanabira [ サスクハナ号の曳航VI 昭和の花びら ]  - The intro part, events from an underground diner at the Grand Central Station in New York, up to 10 minutes and 36 seconds into the song, is entirely a true story. This is also true, in detail, with an elderly Latino group bringing tissues and a lady leaving a bottle of water. In fact, I experienced something similar to this 12.3 years ago, though not very intensely. The location in an underground diner in Grand Central is very similar, but the tables were different, even though the building was spacious, and for some reason, an old woman sat down in front of me. I knew during that time, we started eating what seemed to be homemade cookies. She looked at me while chewing from time to time. I love this event, so I handed her a paper napkin and said, "" mom, [I] could use this ". Then the old woman replied, " thank you ". That was the voice of my mother, who suddenly passed away while I wa...

  A few years ago, I felt enthusiastic on grabbing points from a camera in Yodobashi. Cassette tapes, video tapes, fine items, expensive ones, Yodobashi has it. On the other hand, the employees at Yodobashi don't have a good altitude, their customer service is so rude. Moreover, a random employee in the audio section in the 5th floor of a general building told nonsense to the customers. "You can't connect a DAT to an MD", he said. I replied, "I'd like to take this Marantz [audiovisual company] amp off because it wouldn't fit the side rack". He told me, "Don't worry, you can easily remove it by uninstalling 4 small screws". I nearly bought it, but then thought, "Uhm, wait, let's go to the other store". When I went to Sakuraya and got a glimpse closely, the screws were removed from the side racks but they were perfectly secured. Even then, I still go to Yodobashi for the points, but with how much of a benefit? Buy for 10,00...

  To my niece Miho, "This is the Kurama Tengu"; to my nephew Takao, "This is Hiroto"; to my BABAR with my Jijy impression, "Hey Fuki, I'm calling you from the heavens"; to my apprentice JALLA, "This is the Nakano Police Department"; to Kawase, "Ooh~~ Kawase, it's the professor"; to Ikuro in my Ikuro voice, "Hello, this is Fujiwara"; and this is to an extent where I keep my name for myself. Otherwise, I would never use a pseudonym, add a certain number of strokes, or anything else. Even when I stay at an hotel for an affair, I simply write as Masayuki Yamamoto . Perhaps. And now, analog letters. Stamps are wonderful, especially regular stamps. I was a stamp collector in my youth. I wanted to read the letter I received as soon as possible, so I tore open the seal. A stationary paper popped out from the inside. Hmmm...that handwriting, could that be his handwriting~? Whaaat??!! He's sick!?? I got worried. Okay, so tha...

 In 1986, I met two of my friends at the 57th NIPPONCLUB Gallery. As for its surroundings, this is where senior artist Goroh Saitoh held a solo exhibition in New York. We were seated for the commemorative exhibition party on the first day: many Americans, a couple of Chinese and us Japanese. One of them was Newsweek journalist at the time, Durian Bencoil. When he attended an interview, I got introduced to him, and I never thought we would become good friends. The next day, Bencoil accompanied Goroh to a radio station where he was tasked as an interpreter, and I was the photographer to document it, then Bencoil recommend us a restaurant for a hearty brunch. That was all.  The other was the UN desk, MISS  Kumi Yasui, Michiyo Yasui's daughter, the producer for Goroh Saitoh's solo exhibition. She was interested in me as a composer and we gathered about talking for 15 minutes. That was it. Time had passed, and it was June of 1989. I arrived in the US alone, unpacked my luggage...