He's Not Talkin’
Sunday. To bed last night relatively early, took my time getting to sleep, but up and awake at seven-thirty instead of six, so I suspect I got a good night's rest. So fine, the day has started, there's a Ginza Bazaar in San Francisco I may well attend, although this early in the morning I can't be sure how I'll feel at noon. One assumes better. One assumes in a more adventuresome mood. One assumes many things in this life.
Later. The same conversation as I headed for the bus stop - do I really want to go to San Francisco and then catch a bus out Geary toward Japantown? - along with a certain feeling of dread. Not big time dread, just, you know, a little feeling of dread. It all disappeared when I got on the bus and headed for the Ginza Bazaar being held by the Buddhist Church of San Francisco on Pine Street that includes street preformances of “Bon Odori and Taiko”. Taiko I know. Drums. Many drums. Bon Odori, not so sure. A traditional Japanese dance they said. I was interested in knowning more. And shooting pictures.
Of course I arrived too early was my first thought, seeing the fenced off street prepared for a performance but devoid of people. I discovered the Bazaar, as such, was being held in the basement of the church on one side of the street and the silent auction was being held in the basement of the building opposite, both filled with people, the large bazaar area containing a long cafeteria line filled with people, crowded tables, an ongoing game of bingo and various other distractions. OK. I took but one or two pictures inside to document the fact I'd been there, I guess, and saved the rest for later.
I'd arrived just after twelve again, with the street empty, but the Taiko drumming and traditional Japanese Bon Odori dancing started at one and by one the street was filled. Another hour or so of walking, shooting, looking for photographs and I was done. A decent outing, a walk then to catch a bus and then a train and a bus home. This time I had to wait, no instant busses or trains arriving just as I arrived, but again, managed to go with the flow. Useless to get cranky over something over which you have no control, he said. Calm yourself. Buddhists have techniques for this, I'm told. The Dalai Lama wouldn't be jumpy.
So back for more guitar, need to keep on top of the guitar after missing out on most of my practice on Friday, but these things happen and my iterations of the same chord sequence don't seem to be a problem. If the neighbors could hear them I'm sure it would drive them nuts - Isn't that one of the standard complaints? The same notes and chords over and over? - but it doesn't seem to bother me, maybe because I'm looking closely at each one for execution, making all of them different. Who knows? Da Shadow do, but he's not talkin’.