Expectations are the enemy of happiness. My most magical moments are unexpected.
December, 2023.
After a month spent silent in Beppu, the Hot Spring capitol of Japan, I was wandering in winter wonder when I found Tapasan, a sliver of a bar with guitars on the wall. The owner and bartender was the only person present, jamming in solitude on the sofa.
I asked if he’d mind a jam mate. “Of course not!” I bought a beer, but I had no cash. I left my health insurance card as collateral. We spent the next hour or so sharing songs we knew or wrote. This is one of mine.
I returned a few days later with cash in hand, still wet from my onsen soak. A day or two after that, I received a text inviting me to attend his 4 year anniversary party. Would I mind joining in on “One Love“? “My pleasure,” I replied before I realized I did not, in fact, know the lyrics to the verse.
The party was the day before my departure. I crammed the lyrics into my brain on hte walk there. I had had almost no human interaction in the previous month. My breakfast was served by a robot and a cat was the gatekeeper at my closest ancient onsen. Tonight, though, I was warmly welcomed by the most outgoing Japanese I’ve ever encountered.
The musicians were so fantastic, I was so nervous about performing. The night wore on, and I hoped that there wouldn’t be time for me to join in. I was about to bow out for bedtime when Tapa called me up. He communicated with the crowd in Japanese. A new friend translated his far too generous praise. I was the closer. I was the “special guest from NYC.“ Humbled and moved, I did my best.
A night, a place, and people I will never forget. I could never have planned a more perfect farewell.
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