Japanese Jazz

Last night, we went to a small (and by small I mean Japanese small, so maybe 20 people could fit there) bar called Mondo in Saijo. Why ? I hear you ask...(well I hear my imaginary friend Claude ask). Well one of our Japanese friends, Takuya (and a fine chap to boot) had his girlfriend singing in her band, and so for moral support the "Gaijin Gang" saddled up like the magnificent 7 and rode into town.

Actually I like the Magnificent 7 comparison...6 gaijin teachers and 1 local...(Ken). Each with a different skill. But equally as deadly...

Anyway, I am the sort of person who defines Jazz by two categories; Cool, slightly melancholic Jazz (i.e. Miles Davis etc) or Wanky Jazz (i.e. Indulgent bulls@@t). Anyway I was pleasantly surprised to find that the majority of the bands last night were the former, although the site of a 16 stone, hairy, bald Japanese man playing a mini guitar (a ukelele I guess) and singing "One Day my Prince will come" to a jazz riff, will live long in the memory.

Anyway, myself, Derrick and Jen stayed the entire set whilst Evan, Ken and Jason disappeared off to Rodeo (an American bar). Afterward we went and got some food at Wara Wara, the Izakaya and alongside Takuya, the four of us had a good chat.

Getting to know people is always a potentially rocky road, but the rewards can be so fufilling. Derrick said something about me that, although not offensive in any way was a pretty accurate and honest description of my emotional state. I feel that I only carry one scar but the cut was so deep, that its never really healed (I guess like Frodo in Lord of the Rings...), so instead of letting people in and letting them love me, I push them away because I'm afraid that the wound will open and I'll bleed to death.

Derrick didn't exactly say it this way, but pretty close. Being me, I have thought about this long and hard and realised that I'm trapped, because even though I want to love, it's difficult because of all the barriers I have now put up, but I think the only way to bring them down is too let someone in....Crappola.

Anyway it was a good night. Myself and Derrick joked that Jen has a drinking problem (6 beers last night!!!! I was good, I only had 4), too which we had a barrage of French insults. For some reason, and probably because of the influence of Satan's pee, Jen kept jabbering on with a British accent. Derrick called us the odd couple, I guess because we are so different but get along really well. He then proceeded to ask if we had a love/hate relationship, to which Jen replied she could never hate me...just love. Aww sweet eh ?