He certainly has the looks.
Most definitely the moves.
And from a brief sound of it, the ability.
But whether he’ll ever be big in his mother country and end up bigging it up at the Budokan, remains to be seen.
Photographs from a small group of islands
With all its chain stores, massive shopping emporiums and incredible number of convenience stores, it’s arguably amazing to simply see small shops in Tokyo, let alone find some that are actually surviving. Yet survive they do, and in surprisingly healthy numbers, although how successfully many of them are soldiering on is something else altogether.
But either way, this fella, and quite possibly his father before him, has no doubt been making and selling tofu for more time than he’d care to remember. And fingers crossed he’ll be able to continue for many more years to come, but whether the business will be able to do so when he’s decided to call it a day, is considerably more debatable.
Urban exploration undoubtedly means different things to different people, but for me personally, visiting an abandoned building/haikyo is all about what’s been left behind rather than the actual building itself. Well, apart from a few very special cases that is; namely Kawatana Suicide Squad Training Centre, Mount Asama Volcano Museum, and the recently posted Joyo Pachinko Parlor. All of which were incredibly interesting simply as structures, and/or what they stood for.
But that said, they really aren’t the kinds of places I would initially seek out when searching for a new haikyo to visit; this small and sad-looking house on the other hand, is.
A chance find that, as soon as we walked through the unlocked door, felt like entering someone’s life. Or at least past life. Particularly as there on display was a picture of the one-time occupant himself.
Plus, due to a certificate of thanks on the wall, it was possible to find out his name, Shouji Masakatsu, and that in 1985 he was a singer on the inaugural journey of the Varuna ferry; its three day trip taking them from Oarai in Ibaraki, to Muroran in Hokkaido.
A vessel that, just like the man who once performed on it, has now moved on, but as it was sold to a Greek tour company, it could still be operating somewhere in the Aegean Sea, although it presumably sails to the sound of very different songs. And in regards to music, lyrics for some of the ballads that could well have been part of Masakatsu’s set on the Varuna all those years ago, are still in the house — all carefully copied out.
And a version of one of them, sung by somebody else, can be heard here:
But boats aside, music was obviously not only Masakatsu-san’s livelihood, but also his love, as the house is still packed with an assorted array of instruments,
gear,
and mementos.
Along with the suggestion that he may also have liked golf, but quite possibly didn’t really care for cooking.
It was a very similar story upstairs too, although several more personal items made the man’s presence almost palpable.
Especially with his jacket still waiting in the wardrobe.
And music was again a big theme, with an old school cassette player,
and a radio alarm clock still in the bedroom.
A room that was not only bleak, but also contained a newspaper dated 1997, suggesting that was the last time Shouji Masakatsu spent a night there.
But why he left, and more pressingly also left so many possessions, is a mystery. The selection of which made the deathly quiet of the house almost deafening.
After suffering the heat and humidity of the summer on this very same seat, now that it’s actually cool and comfortable enough for a nap, this cat really didn’t take kindly to some fool faffing about taking its photo.
Finding a seat in a Tokyo coffee shop is not always easy; in fact, at certain times of the day, in seriously desirable spots, it’s practically impossible.
And it’s a situation that’s made even worse when customers are intent on nursing a tea for an eternity, or, in this particular case, clearly in need of a cup containing considerably more caffeine.
For the vast number of Japanese dogs, especially those of a diminutive nature, being pampered is commonplace — compulsory even; a practice that sees canines carried, carted about and even coloured, as well as being cooed over and constantly surrounded by cacophonous cries of Kawaii!
And yet that said, there are exceptions. Like this poor little fella for example.
As, not only is he equipped with his own backpack for carrying the essentials that no discerning dog would be seen without, such as a ball and a bone maybe, but he also has to stand guard, mind-numbingly watching over his masters while they sleep.
A situation that he clearly wasn’t pleased about, and one that definitely doesn’t beat dashing about after that ball that he actually took the trouble of taking in the first place.