by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator
Forty-five years ago this spring my wife and I took a military "hop" from Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, the island where I was stationed with the U.S. Army, and flew to a military air base on mainland Japan. We were there, as tourists, for about a week.
The most interesting thing that we did that week was to visit Hiroshima, the city that suffered the first atomic bomb attack. We rode the "bullet" train south from Tokyo to a point somewhere beyond the old capital of Kyoto, and were then herded (literally) onto one of the infamous "cattle" cars where young men stood at the doors of seat-less train cars and pushed an shoved people aboard, packing us in as tightly as possible. We watched helplessly as out luggage passed by overhead on a sea of moving arms. (We were eventually reunited with the suitcase.)
We departed the train in the bustling city of Hiroshima, expecting to encounter some Americans who could help us find lodging. Although the streets were crowded with pedestrians, none appeared to be American. We finally corralled a young policeman who took us to the police station and then telephoned a lady who spoke English. She then called a "mama-san" who had a room for rent, and the mama-san came down and collected us. The simple room she took us to had no bed, but she brought a pot of green tea which we enjoyed while she rolled out the various mats that made a pallet on the floor.
The next day as we toured Peace Park, the monument-laden center of the old city located around Ground Zero, a young Japanese man named Hiroshi approached us and asked to be our guide (for free) so that he could practice his English. It was a most interesting day as we walked through the history and horror of one of the final days of World War II. That evening we walked into town and played pachinko at some of the city's many pachinko parlors.
After two days in Hiroshima we returned to Tokyo where we walked the streets of the Ginza late at night and were completely safe. (Tokyo was and is larger than New York City, but the Japanese people do not walk around armed-to-the-teeth like Americans.) One of the major attractions of the Ginza was a McDonalds. (There were none on Okinawa at that point.) The McDonalds in the Ginza was a window on a busy sidewalk where customers walked up and placed their orders and then consumed their burgers and meals on the sidewalk. I was in heaven as I enjoyed my first McDonald's Filet of Fish in nearly two years!
Our room in Tokyo was at the very nice Daichi Hotel where one of the fellow guests was a very large fellow from Hawaii named Jesse who was the new world champion sumo wrestler. We shared an elevator with him at one point, and it almost felt as crowded at the "cattle" car on the train! While in Tokyo we also took a bus tour of the city where we visited businesses, Shinto shrines, and gazed at the Imperial Palace from across the moat.
One other thing that we did in Tokyo that was interesting was to take the subway across Tokyo to the Ueno Zoo - quite a challenge for a pair of non-Japanese speakers! Our goal at the zoo was to see the Pandas, but sadly they were not available for viewing that afternoon.
All of which brings mo to the connection with today's poetry selection, Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues."
I have an American friend who lives in Japan where he works as a psychologist for the U.S. military. In an email this morning he mentioned that he had been in Tokyo and had visited the Ueno district where the zoo is located. In his email my friend was talking about the street musicians who make their music in the Ueno district, and he said that he had been particularly impressed with one young lady, about eighteen, who was playing guitar and had a very "sweet voice." As my friend drew nearer he recognized the song that she was singing: Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues."
That song has been rattling around in my head all day, so now I will try to purge it by sharing. Please enjoy as you remember the late, great Johnny Cash and one of his signature compositions.
Folsom Prison Blues
by Johnny Cash
I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son
Always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns"
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry
I bet there's rich folk eatin' from a fancy dining car
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars
Well, I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
Poetry Appreciator
Forty-five years ago this spring my wife and I took a military "hop" from Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, the island where I was stationed with the U.S. Army, and flew to a military air base on mainland Japan. We were there, as tourists, for about a week.
The most interesting thing that we did that week was to visit Hiroshima, the city that suffered the first atomic bomb attack. We rode the "bullet" train south from Tokyo to a point somewhere beyond the old capital of Kyoto, and were then herded (literally) onto one of the infamous "cattle" cars where young men stood at the doors of seat-less train cars and pushed an shoved people aboard, packing us in as tightly as possible. We watched helplessly as out luggage passed by overhead on a sea of moving arms. (We were eventually reunited with the suitcase.)
We departed the train in the bustling city of Hiroshima, expecting to encounter some Americans who could help us find lodging. Although the streets were crowded with pedestrians, none appeared to be American. We finally corralled a young policeman who took us to the police station and then telephoned a lady who spoke English. She then called a "mama-san" who had a room for rent, and the mama-san came down and collected us. The simple room she took us to had no bed, but she brought a pot of green tea which we enjoyed while she rolled out the various mats that made a pallet on the floor.
The next day as we toured Peace Park, the monument-laden center of the old city located around Ground Zero, a young Japanese man named Hiroshi approached us and asked to be our guide (for free) so that he could practice his English. It was a most interesting day as we walked through the history and horror of one of the final days of World War II. That evening we walked into town and played pachinko at some of the city's many pachinko parlors.
After two days in Hiroshima we returned to Tokyo where we walked the streets of the Ginza late at night and were completely safe. (Tokyo was and is larger than New York City, but the Japanese people do not walk around armed-to-the-teeth like Americans.) One of the major attractions of the Ginza was a McDonalds. (There were none on Okinawa at that point.) The McDonalds in the Ginza was a window on a busy sidewalk where customers walked up and placed their orders and then consumed their burgers and meals on the sidewalk. I was in heaven as I enjoyed my first McDonald's Filet of Fish in nearly two years!
Our room in Tokyo was at the very nice Daichi Hotel where one of the fellow guests was a very large fellow from Hawaii named Jesse who was the new world champion sumo wrestler. We shared an elevator with him at one point, and it almost felt as crowded at the "cattle" car on the train! While in Tokyo we also took a bus tour of the city where we visited businesses, Shinto shrines, and gazed at the Imperial Palace from across the moat.
One other thing that we did in Tokyo that was interesting was to take the subway across Tokyo to the Ueno Zoo - quite a challenge for a pair of non-Japanese speakers! Our goal at the zoo was to see the Pandas, but sadly they were not available for viewing that afternoon.
All of which brings mo to the connection with today's poetry selection, Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues."
I have an American friend who lives in Japan where he works as a psychologist for the U.S. military. In an email this morning he mentioned that he had been in Tokyo and had visited the Ueno district where the zoo is located. In his email my friend was talking about the street musicians who make their music in the Ueno district, and he said that he had been particularly impressed with one young lady, about eighteen, who was playing guitar and had a very "sweet voice." As my friend drew nearer he recognized the song that she was singing: Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues."
That song has been rattling around in my head all day, so now I will try to purge it by sharing. Please enjoy as you remember the late, great Johnny Cash and one of his signature compositions.
Folsom Prison Blues
by Johnny Cash
I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when
I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone
When I was just a baby, my mama told me, "Son
Always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns"
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry
I bet there's rich folk eatin' from a fancy dining car
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars
Well, I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
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