Happy Hare, the Promo Sapiens Part 6

(Click on at the bottom of this page for HH Parts 1-5)

Most personalities, whether in radio, television or movies have a fantasy of standing in front of a large crowd, the center of high excitement. with press photographers jabbing cameras in their face and shouting for them to look their way and smile. That happened to me in Japan. The catch was that maybe four of the several hundred welcoming me to Yokohama with such verve had the faintest notion who I was. That didn’t matter. The Mayor of Yokohama, San Diego’s sister city, had decreed that there would be an exhilarant crowd greeting me at the airport during my quest for the around the world record for a jet passenger, and by God, there was.. When it came to spectacles, the Japanese were a throwback to the Hollywood of 1936. They did know that I was San Diego’s Ambassador of Good Will and that was all that counted. Party on!

Buried in the shouts of “Gumbariyo! the Samurai battle cry of the great 18th century shogun, Tokugawa, I ducked into a limousine and headed toward the main airport terminal where they escorted me to a large VIP lounge. By now, the crowd had winnowed down to a hundred or so actual members of the Yokohama City Council and their drivers, about 20 women who sat in a tight group in the rear and cheered dutifully when I entered. My translator motioned me to a seat in the middle of a long head table facing the room that was already filled by the members of the Council. .

A lovely young girl dressed in lavish Geisha silks approached in a floating gait, sweetly smiling at me and bowing as she walked. The translator introduced her as Miss Yokohama. She bowed, even lower and uttered a few Japanese words in the same breathless manner immortalized by Marilyn Monroe. She was placed next to me and as she sat, her robe exhaled a delicate fragrance

An older woman stood smiling and bowing. “This,” announced my escort, is…he gave me her name in a bunch of unintelligible Japanese words that skittered out of his mouth., “She is the Kate Smith of Japan.” We have asked her to sing “Gaw Bress America.” for you. “Great!”, I said smiling, getting the hang of their brand of social demeanor which is be pleased with everything.

Finally, in the grand climax, Mr Shigemitsu the Vice Mayor of Yokohama arrived with much ceremony and bowed smiling to me but did not sit and instead stood in front of me, and launched into a furious rush of shouts that I recognized to be the Japanese ritualistic way of speechifying. Anyone not familiar with this cultural quirk would swear that the man was about to kill me. He paced like a mad stork in front of me bellowing guttural sounds, his arms flailing as if wielding an invisible Samurai sword. This went on for several minutes until his face turned purple, Finally, he wound down, and gasping in deep drafts, fished out a blue leather box and gave it to me with a great flourish. I opened it to see a gorgeous 24 carat golden key with the enamel seal of the city of Yokohama on the handle.

My translator-gave me the short version of his speech., “Mr Shigemitsu says welcome to Japan from your sister city, Yokohama.. and respectfully presents you with the key to Yokohama. He expects you to say something now. “ I had not prepared a speech because I did not think they would care to hear me speak in my barbarian tongue. Also, I was a one-liner kind of guy., and none of these folks “got” American one-liners. Such as “a priest and a rabbi walked into a bar and the bartender said, “What is this, a joke?” But Japan had few priests or rabbis, and had no grasp of priest/.rabbi jokes, and in fact, they were not steeped in the rich tradition of “somebody walked into a bar.” jokes. Forget about “a horse walked into a bar and the bartender said, ”Why the long face? The Japanese would not understand the reference to a “long face.” which is strictly American,.. But, I veer.

I did make up a pun. I held up a bottle of Coke, and said, “Ah, Cokahama,. My favorite drink.” No response. It was run through the translating wringer by my friend and I was relieved to hear genuine laugher. They only “got” it when he said it.

Then, while speaking about the greatness of Yokohama and our strong relationship I absently-mindedly reached over and placed my hand on Miss Yokohama with my thumb and fore finger curving ever so slightly around the nape of her neck. In the U.S. it is, at most, a gesture of affection and protectiveness. Not in this room.. A sharp collective intake of breath followed by the infamous Japanese nervous giggle arose from the entire room. Such giggles usually precede a screaming leap at the throat with a hari kiri dagger. Realizing too late this grave faux pas that I had committed , I jerked my hand away and shook it vigorously like it had been scorched. Miss Yokohama was strangely unmoved by this gaffe and turned to Mr Shigemitsu and whispered something to him.. Hearing what she said, he laughed in forgiveness like the perfect host he was. The rest laughed on his cue.

I mumbled a few more words about our sister city and how honored I was and then sat down. to a surprising round of applause. Then mercifully, the Kate Smith of Japan, arose and sang , God Bless America  without the Japanese slur of her “r’s” , She was terrific and hit the last note with all the lustiness of the real Kate Smith. I hugged her, this time avoiding trigger points..

.After eating a lunch of sushi and sake, I had a few minutes to spare and worked the crowd, including the clustered group of drivers No one understood English, but the translator labored valiantly to convert my Americanese into understandable Japanese. I repeated my one safe joke about “Cokahama” and their laughter showed me that they forgave my gaffe with Miss Yokohama. In fact, Miss Yokohama sidled up to me and teasingly wrapped her delicate fingers around my neck and this time, everyone including the Vice Mayor laughed. .

I said softly to her in English, “In America, you would be a winner. What did you tell Mr Shigemitsu. She did not wait for the translator but laughed and said, in perfect English, “I told him that in America what you did was a gesture of protectiveness, not an insult.” Not waiting for my next question, she explained, :”I am in my second year at U.CL.A…..International Law.”.” Then she drew close and whispered.. “They like you. When you are back on the tarmac, look up to the top of the terminal for a big surprise.”

When you depart from a Japanese host, you bow first and continue to back away bowing until your host stops bowing back at you. It took a while. Then, I. was back outside walking toward the jet,. this time a shiny Pan Am Boeing 707.

When I was halfway to the jet,. I turned and looked upward toward the rooftop It was empty. Maybe, they had observed the protocol and put up with me but didn’t like me after all. Then, just before I sadly turned away, a large crowd appeared waving and shouting, ”Banzai! Banzai!” I shouted back, “Banzai!” whether it was proper protocol or not. .

I landed in San Francisco after circling the globe in 43 hours and 31 minutes, a new world’s record.

The January-March 1969 ARB came out and KCBQ once again was # !, one, (Echo chamber) ONE (reverb reverb reverb) 12-34 with 400,000 cumes in a town of a million. population. Banzai!!