Merry Creemos

Due to a series of unfortunate events. I couldn't make it home this year for Christmas. That makes two in a row. And Mom let it be known...she's counting!

A few of my friends here in the L.A. area offered to bring me along to their respective gatherings. Each of which sounded intriguing in their own special way. However, I settled on spending the holiday with one of my bestest friends...Summer, who resides out in Ojai. The decision proved to be just what the doctor ordered.

I trained out to Ventura where she picked me up and escorted me to this quaint little area. It was night time when I arrived, but she let it be known that the surroundings were absolutely gorgeous. "Wait til you see this place in the morning," was a recurring theme.

As for Christmas Eve, it was so familiar that it felt like I was back in New York with my very own family. Mom wrapping last minute gifts. Egg Nog with your choice of liquor to choose from. Pumpkin bread was an added bonus. One I wouldn't have minded scooping up the recipe for and making a part of the Gary family tradition. But best of all was the conversations unfolding between all those present. More than anything our chit chats set the tone and confirmed the already obvious, that I was amidst good people.

And the good people only multiplied the next day. Not long after I rose, did the family start pouring in. Uncle's, Aunt's, cousins, Grandma! It was a scene I'd witnessed many a times before yet had it's own unique flavor to it on account of those in attendance.

As promised, the natural surroundings attested to beauty beyond words. Summer is an avid gardener. One who is constantly grabbing a flower, or random leaf and saying, "Smell this." Each time leaving me shaking my head in disbelief... 'How did you know that?" Strolling around the premises shed light on just where all of that natural appreciation and gardening ability came from. Her mom had the place decked out. Whether it be the actual plant life (cactus/cacti) or even the unprecedented placement of bowling balls throughout the garden, the whole place had a very zen feel to it.

And that was just the immediate surroundings. As my gaze zoomed outward, I took in the sights of nice sized mountain across the way, which inherently gave birth to the valley which lied between us. More than anything, it was the peace here that struck a chord.

I searched my memory in attempt to recall the last time I'd felt/experienced peace and quiet on this level and I was hard pressed to do so. It was so quiet I could hear the dog barking from across the valley. This alone shed layers of mental chatter and concrete jungle-isms that I was previously unaware of. And as my mind attempted to clear itself of the typical rants that had plagued it, I surrendered and simply basked in the presence of it all. Hurrying not, to speak, move or distract myself.

Eventually more humans arrived, and so began the dance that is Christmas. The gift exchange was not as pronounced as it is in our household, but it was really awesome to not only have a card to open from my "family" in Tokyo. But even have a gift complements of Summer's mom.

By early afternoon there were upwards of 30 people in the house, each weaving our way in and out of conversations, food and Spirits (of each kind.) It was a beautiful collection of souls. One in which seemed void of judgment or any of the family dramas that plague many a gatherings.

Prior to the guests arrival, there were at least 10 guitars in random locations throughout the house. A sight that seemed a bit excessive at 1st, yet sparked a degree of curiosity as I wondered, what in the world could someone do with ALL these guitars? The answer soon presented itself as the jam session of a lifetime commenced right before my eyes.

There were some truly talented musicians amongst us. Each of which graced us with a few tunes from within their arsenal. What amazed me was not only their musicianship, but also how well they fed off of each other. Although I 'dibble dabble' in the realm, I was a bit intimidated by the where-with-all they exemplified.

The most recent addition and pleasant surprise for all involved was the arrival of a couple of English girls who have their own band Athena. This was their 1st time being in the States for the holidays, and they lucked up and found this haven for musicians in which they fit right in. Their songs were moving and I had to make an extra effort to not appear too interested :) Cool may be the death of me!

As it turned out, they just happened to be staying in Hollywood, not far from my hotel. As fate would have it, I ended up riding back with them which gave us the perfect opportunity to reflect on the magic of the night. The people, the food, the feelings, it was all indicative of a great holiday experience. One that could never be duplicated.

So...I apologize Mom for not making it home. But please believe your boy was in good hands when it was all said and done.

Divinity continues to align with perfect timing and placement. Can't wait to see what comes next.

Bless

The (B)east Coast

After almost a year to the day, I find myself back in DC. And more importantly, back at my brother's place. Which for the 1st time in a long time gives me the sense of being HOME. It's been so long since I knew where the dishes were, where the snacks were, and how to work the remote control!! All these subtle simplicities create a momentum of appreciation for not only the surroundings, but above all, FAMILY.

To my surprise, upon arrival, my brother informed me he wouldn't be needing his car, so I could take it and do what I need to do. Oh what a difference a year makes. The last time I was around, he was protecting that ride with his every breath. You would too if you were pushing a BMW 645 Ci.

Needless to say, I was delighted to receive such an offer. Which led me to snatch up those keys and get out the door before he got a chance to reconsider!

DC on a whole really didn't feel so magical.(not that I expected it to) It was nice to stop by my old job and see a lot of the people and spirits I've missed. But the overall vibe wasn't one of "I've missed this so much." But rather a sense of, "Hey, what's up? Nice to see you again"..and that's about it.

The lone highlight came in the form of one Mia Jael Flemming. Born just 5 days before my arrival, it seemed rather fateful that I just happened to return in time to say a few silent prayers and extend Divine Light around My God Daughter! A title that was often given and taken away by her mother in the months prior to her arrival, whenever I got to acting a fool!! :) However, now that she's here, there's no turning back!

And she's a cutie for sure! And I say that reluctantly, because I'm not one to shower newborns with too much affection. When friends send those fresh outta the hospital pictures to everyone they know proclaiming, Malcolm Paul Little, 6 lbs, 8 ounces. And at least 10 of those people who have yet to discover the difference between reply to sender and reply to all write back.."Ooohhh..he's so cuuuuuute!" I'm like "Nah. Not really!" In my opinion, it usually takes a good month or so before that cuteness factor arrives. But perhaps I was a bit biased in her case. Regardless, she was great. Let me hold her with no crying. And that's about all a brute like me can ask for...ha haaaa!!!

From DC to upstate NY, my brother and I drove. Well..he drove.. I relaxed. The trip was a cool one. We dove into the depths of being bi-racial. And how distinctly different our set of challenges are from those of black or white people. My bro made the point that it is an injustice to attach the label of Black to President Obama because that is discrediting the uniqueness of his/our plight. He has learned a certain skill set as a result of being both black and white. And to simply group him into the sweeping generalization of being a black man is not only a mistake, but also an indication of how ignorant Americans' remain in terms of race relations.

This is an element I witnessed 1st hand, as numerous people asked me "Why do they keep calling him 'Black?" when I was in Japan. "Isn't he mixed?"

I'd roll my eyes and say..."Yeah, but in America (and seemingly only America) we're considered black."

It was almost comical to me at 1st but eventually educational to see outside of the American framework and realize many cultures on Earth recognize the distinction quite clearly. There was actually a time in Jamaica, where an elder (Black Woman) hollered out to my friend, from her porch "Who da white bwoy wit ya?"

I got offended as hell! And pleaded to my man..."Who's she calling white boy? Can't she see I'm black?" He gave me that nod like, Yeah..yeah..shut up for a minute, I'll explain later. :) Big deal at the time...hilarious now!

As for our family the spectrum could never be more evident. Although born unto the same parents. And brought up under as similar a conditions as one could conjure. You'd be surprised to see how distinctly different our personalities and tendencies are.

I'd be the 1st to tell you there is no such thing as acting Black or acting White. But I think we can all identify with certain qualities and modes of being which we'd usually attach to one race or the other. (gotta throw that disclaimer out there so folks know I "ain't ignorant!")

My brother admitted that he leans more toward the white side, while I seem to have more of a black disposition. An idea which was reiterated by a friend of mine here in L.A. who proclaimed despite his vast number of fully black acquaintances, "You the blackest friend I have!"

But ultimately, as a child I was never fully embraced by either. WE were always different. And often reminded of our difference from both sides. And that makes for a pretty lonely upbringing in terms of having a point of reference or role models.

But you better believe I studied my older brother's every move in hopes of gaining any insight on the path that lied ahead. A move that was often times beneficial.

Although I thought I may be ranting a bit, I just realized that all of these thoughts were a part of our conversation. Which was a doozy I promise you that.

Just to paint a picture for you non-New Yorkers who continue to hold the illusion that New York STATE is the same as New York CITY. It was a great surprise for me to see the Welcome to New York sign while still on the highway on this trip. See Route 15 has been a country road that takes you through small town after small town, offering litte more than gas and Dunkin Donuts at each stop. Yet somehow, someway, they managed to circumvent the villages and navigate the farmland without pissing off the cows in a fashion that kept us aboard the highway. A beautiful yet tragic accomplishment.

Beautiful for the obvious reasons of convenience. Yet tragic on account of remembering when they said, that was gonna be a 15 year project. Yikes. These days are mounting!

Not long after, we pulled up to Mom's place. A welcomed sight. But even greater... a welcomed FEELING! As these days turn to years and many of my priorities shift (drastically.) There is one that remains atop. And that's Mommy!! So good to be home!

The Magnet that is Santa Cruz

Alas, I am in the same time zone as my family. It's been quite a journey since I've last found myself here in the DC area. Yet the stories that seem to fall from my tongue after the usual question "How was Japan?" seem to do it no justice.

As for my time in Santa Cruz, California, it was ideal. The home I stayed in was impeccable. My bathroom alone was bigger than my entire place in Tokyo. Not to mention it was located just 2 blocks from the beach. And if that wasn't enough, only 2 days into my stay, a good friend of mine offered his jeep to me so I could have transpo throughout the duration of my stay. Truly a blessing.

As much as I'd like to say I returned to the area and took the states by storm, it was quite to the contrary. More than anything I relaxed and basked in the familiarity that I'd missed in all those days spent outside the states. Basked in Burritos, Pizza and long drives with loud music. It was just what the doctor ordered.

My plans changed 37 times in the month that I was there, as opportunity after opportunity continued to present themselves. Each of which looked to be just right for the next step. At first it was a month long stay in Jamaica. Then it was a few weeks in the Dominican Republic. But ultimately, I settled on a month in Los Angeles. A move that has the potential to impact my path in a myriad of ways. Both financially and musically. Needless to say, I'm intrigued to see exactly what lies ahead in the days to come.

A few weeks back, I was invited to play (basketball) at an open gym at Santa Cruz High School by a friend of mine. The experience was refreshing, so much so, that I returned again the following week. When that run was completed, the coach thanked us for coming out and informed us that the gym would no longer be open on account of their Varsity Boys season starting.

It took me a moment to size up the feasibility of such a choice, before I approached the coach and extended an offer. Although I've never coached a day in my life, "I'd love to come help out., contribute to the program in any way you see fit." He accepted the offer, and so began the birth of my love affair with the Santa Cruz Varsity Boys Basketball Team.

It's a shame that in the realm of sports, being nice is often times a fault. The kids I've been working with all have hearts of gold. A characteristic that holds little to no value when it comes to competition. And in many instances may prove to be detrimental to the team. Hence, the mission laid before me was to light a fire in a few of the less fire-full. A challenge I gladly accepted.

Lamb or Lion? has been our motto. And it's been absolutely delightful to see the transformation many of the kids have made in only a matter of weeks. Not only in terms of heart, but also skill-wise. Working with them has been a blessing because almost all of them are very coachable kids who are open to criticism and diligent in practice. This entire experience has filled me with a greater sense of purpose and my influence is becoming visible through time. And I say that in no selfish way at all. As the head coach is truly guiding the ship and doing so with a sense of confidence and clarity that amazes me from time to time.

Working with him is an inspiration in itself. Often times I catch myself daydreaming about how much more enjoyable my high school basketball experience would have been had I been lucky enough to have a coach like him.

Needless to say, this opportunity to fulfill yet another life long dream seemed to present itself almost effortlessly. My proclamation prior to this experience was, "I will not move back to Santa Cruz, no matter what!" But it just so happened that a friend of mine decided to return to Africa for a 6 month stretch. This opened up his place for that entire period.

When I stepped back and looked at the grand scheme of things, and attempted to make sense of the opportunities being presented, I wavered a bit, before surrendering to the obvious momentum that was/is guiding me to accompany this squad throughout their season.

That being said, I'll be returning to SC for at least the duration of the season, if not longer. As usual, many possibilities lie ahead. But that's a step that feels just right.

Looking Back on the Transition

I swore up and down I'd do my best to document as much of my transition back here to the States as possible. However, life has it's way of moving...and shaking and I can't say that I've regretted even a moment since I've returned.

Ready for take-off:
So after the nightmare that was my departure from Japan, I settled myself into my ROW of seats quite comfortably. Only minutes into the affair, the stewardess approached, and the two of us had a brief but charming exchange.

It was then that a very warm feeling set in...I'm going HOME. Home as is, the place where people speaka my language. Home, where I can read the signs. Home where spontaneous conversations are not only acceptable, but in some places even encouraged. Immediately a veil of pressure/frustration was lifted.

As a good friend of mine, Colin, pointed out. People like us feed off of interactions and sharing positive experiences with those in our surroundings. This was a dynamic that I could only brush the surface of in Tokyo. Although the overall personality of Japanese people was not as outgoing as Americans, it still boiled down to the language barrier presenting the predominant roadblock.

People ask me what I thought of Japanese people. And I struggle to answer this question. Most notably because I did not learn their language. How can I possible assess the intricacies of one's culture without first grasping their native tongue. Especially in a place like Japan where subtleties abound. So, eventhough I spent close to a year there, I always remained an outsider looking in.

As for the plane ride itself, it was ideal. I watched a movie, then took some time to reflect on the adventure that was Japan. I must say, more than anything, I was extremely sad. There are a good number of places I've ventured to thus far, most of which I've left with a positive feeling. However, in this case, it really felt like goodbye. If not to the country, certainly to a good deal of wonderful people I've come to endear.

The strange thing with traveling is you meet so many good souls. Yet most of us are in transit. As adventurous as it is to look ahead to reunions in other destinations, there is still the very real possibility that we will never meet again. And for some reason, that dynamic was much more present this go round than in trips past.

One element I very purposefully preserved was presence. Or at the very least a lack of looking ahead. Although many seemingly beautiful connections and landscapes awaited me in California, I was careful to cherish the moments I had between the two worlds. What is/was to come in Cali, will have its' time. However, for the time being there were so many powerful experiences and friendships to reflect on and put in proper perspective.

Symbolically, there was quite a force corresponding to my travels. As we departed from Tokyo, the pilot mentioned the possibility of us being delayed on account of a 'typhoon' hitting the bay area. At the time, I'd assumed he used the word simply because there were Japanese passengers aboard. But I soon discovered there was much more to it than that.

As it turned out, there was a typhoon that hit Japan just a few days before my departure. It was reportedly the strongest to hit in over 20 years. It only grazed Tokyo, hitting us with a good amount of rain, and some strong winds but it didn't quite equal the hype. At least in my neighborhood. However, once it was finished with Japan...it headed East. As in toward California.

When we touched down, the sun was shining and the air felt just as magical as ever in San Francisco. Laced with the chill that defines bay area weather, all seemed to be at peace in my surroundings. That is, until we headed south.

By the time I arrived in Santa Cruz, I was amazed at just how much damage had been done. There were fallen trees on highway 17, and all types of blown over vegetation along the way. It was clear that whatever I'd missed came through with some serious force behind it. And this was confirmed as tales began to abound from one friend to the next whom were welcoming me back.

This only added to the magic of my arrival as person after person said, "Wow, you are so Lucky! It's been raining like crazy here for the last few days."

Lucky indeed. But somehow humbled by the correlation between my departure and this bodacious storm. If only I could have taken this country by storm upon my arrival!!!

But there's still time :)....

In a Blink

So there I was, back in familiar surroundings. Serving at Cafe Mare. (everyone's favorite Italian Restaurant in Santa Cruz,) When a table of 12 showed up in my section.

All flowed naturally, they ordered drinks, appetizers, then their main courses. After dropping off their apps, and choppin it up with them momentarily, I skated off to another table. On my way back, I looked over and one of the ladies at the table was convulsing. At first, I thought she was telling a story and demonstrating to everyone what happened. But upon further examination, I discovered that she was actually having a full blown seizure.

Talk about traumatic. I'd never seen such a thing in all my days. She twitched back and forth violently, as her friends came to her side doing all they could to prevent further damage. Someone wrapped a knife in a napkin and put it in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue. And after about a minute, she emerged. Well, kinda.

For me, the moments to follow were even more frightening than the actual seizure. She simply gazed off in no particular direction. With no awareness whatsoever of her surroundings or her friends. From where I stood, she looked dead. I kept thinking to myself, please Lord don't let this woman die right now. It was right about then, that her friend declared, "She's breathing."

After a few minutes of blank staring, she slowly returned to her senses. Her friends did a great job of consoling her and guiding her back calmly. The ambulance soon arrived. And she made her way to the hospital where she was in stable condition in no time. Thank God.

But I must say, seeing something like this firsthand was a mind blower. And more than anything it brought to the tip of consciousness that life is by no means a guarantee. And any of us can cross over (to the afterlife) in the blink of an eye.

One Final Adventure

Perhaps Japan wanted me to stay a little longer than expected. Or so it seemed, as the moments leading up to departure transpired.

It all began with the typical, "Bags too heavy" juggle that I had to do at the check in counter. Actually, that's a lie.

It began as I stepped foot outside of my place, with two humongous bags. One of which had my garment bag attached. Big, heavy, but still pretty impressive when considering THIS IS MY LIFE. Nothing more, nothing less (well Mom's garage may beg to differ.)

Prior to that moment, I failed to remember that on my way into Japan, I had my bags shipped to my place from the airport. Meaning, this was actually the 1st time I had to carry everything solo. As it turned out, about halfway to the station, I ran into my best friend in the neighborhood, Katsu.

Katsu, worked at a Yakitori stand in the neighborhood. I used to stop by his spot everyday and chop it up with him.

I don't know how many of you have seen the movie "Ghostdog," but there are a few scenes in it, when Forrest Whitaker would stop by the ice-cream man's truck and the two of them would converse. Forrest in English, the ice-cream man in French. The two of them never 'understood' one another, but the subtitles revealed in fact they did.

Well, it wasn't until I had a Japanese friend accompany me to Katsu spot, that I discovered the same was true for us. It was quite an amazing revelation because we were walking away from the place and my friend said to me, "Oh, he speaks English?" And I was like, "Nah, not at all, why?" Apparently his answers to my questions were right on point. It was beautiful, cause he used to always say, we don't speak from our mouths, (Katsu and I) we speak from our hearts.

Anyhow, he dropped everything he was doing, and immediately grabbed one of my bags to escort me to the train. To my surprise, he even got aboard the train and rode with me for a stop just to say a relaxed goodbye. It was yet another sign of the beauty of Japanese culture. And of course, true friendship.

The only obstacle remaining, was the transfer from trains that awaited at Motoyawata station. This would be crucial because there is no elevator and at one point, no escalator either. Or so I thought.

I ended up discovering the lift, and took it up to street level. Once there, I was a bit shell-shocked, because I had no idea where I was or where I was supposed to be going from this unfamiliar exit. Long story short, I ended up walking a good mile+ with these bags as I got directions to the wrong station the 1st go round. At this point, I was grinning and bearing it!!

Once there I actually lifted my bags up onto the platform from street level, before even going through the station, as to avoid the lack of elevatorness. A move that garnered more than a few glances from the rule abiding Japanese folks in the area.

If that wasn't enough, I ended up getting off the train one stop too soon, hence leading to another delay.

But this was no stress, by the time I got to the check-in counter, time was not of the essence whatsoever. That is, until I sliced my thumb open, on a metal record, while attempting to lighten up my bag.

Blood was dripping off my finger, as I asked one of the Airline ladies, if she could help me out. She looked at my thumb, shrugged and said, "I'm sorry, we don't have anything over here that can help take care of that." PERIOD. I was in disbelief. There I was, bags wide open, belongings scattered around the counter and this lady showed not the slightest bit of empathy.

I proceeded to shuffle with one hand, and get everything squared away, before she appeared, this time with one solitary band-aid. I don't know how many Mommy's are out there, but I'm sure you know, you can't just throw a band-aid on a bleeding wound. But I tried!! That tided me over for a few.

At the money exchange, there was a problem with some of my Yen. It had oil spilled on it, so the marker-check failed, hence they refused to change it for me. That took a good 15 minutes to sort out.

Finally I got to security and when I did, the thumb started acting up again. This time, however, the lady working there had a hint of compassion. (She was actually a Sweetheart.) By the time I passed through security, I had tissues for days and enough band-aids to supply an elementary school nurse for a year!!

Alas, my problems were over...that is..until I got to...Immigration? Who has immigration when you're LEAVING the country? As I was waiting in line, one woman asks, "Is there anyone on UA flight 852 to San Francisco here?" I raised my hand, expecting some kind of assistance. She glanced, said something into her walky talky...and that was it. No, express lane treatment. But I was cool with that....until I got to the checker-upper and he decided that because I was not returning to Japan I had to fill out some paperwork. I couldn't believe it.

Meanwhile, they are calling my name on the loud speaker.

At this point, I'm frazzled to say the least. But I eventually pass through. And then the lady, who was absolutely useless, proceeded to walk 10 steps in front of me the entire way to the gate. Glancing back every 8 seconds and waving me along as if I couldn't read the signs above that were blatantly pointing out where I was going. I am mentally chastising this woman, something to the tune of "I know BITCH!" as she continues to chip away at what little resilience I had remaining.

Then alas, I made it to the gate. I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, handed my ticket to the guy and set out for the plane. All was finally moving in a positive direction...that was..until.. a voice from behind called out.. "Security check. Sir I need to look through your bags."

UNBELIEVABLE!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The saddest part of this whole saga was I didn't get the chance to answer any of the thoughtful calls and texts that friends were making/sending. Each of whom knew exactly when I was departing. So sad. But I luff You's!

Lost between Hello and Goodbye

As I dip my Oreo's in milk. A tradition that has kept me rooted in my Americanism nearly every night since arriving. I can't help but reflect on the days that have defined my trip/stay here in Japan.

It all happened in a flash. Many of intentions remain unfulfilled, while many were exceeded greatly. Although music did not add up to my previous projections, I must say, I feel as if I was on the brink of breaking through some of the barriers which stood between me and destiny. (Or something like that.) The same could be said for the realm of basketball. Although my moments attested to experiences far beyond anything I'd previously done, I still felt as if I'd only brushed the surface here in Tokyo.

Yet, as is usually the case with any extensive stay in a country, what stands out most in my soul is the connections with people, friends and community out here that have sprung up in such a short time. The disappointment lies in not being able to remain here to nurture some of these connections to full fruition. However, the moments we've had have been quite venturous.

It's interesting, as the time wound down, and the end drew nearer, many of the surface interests fell by the wayside as the important things (God bless the teacher who told me to never write the word 'thing,' "there is always a better word"...but pardon me) took center stage.

What could possibly be more important than FAMILY? Although I made a great number of friends here in my time, there are 4 friends which really proved to be soul mates through and through. We all came here at the same time. And we each guided one another in our own respective ways while we continued to socialize, yet keep tabs on each other.

It's extremely ironic to speak in such depth about my Tokyo family because when I look through the pictures there seems to far more indulgence than introspection. Yet we seemed to find time for that too. Even if we forgot the next day!

Goodbyes are such a double edged sword. There's the pain of detachment. while entertaining the idea that we may never see each other again. A principal which becomes even more probable as the trips start to mount and more friends slip through the sieve of time. All this juxtapose to the extremely eloquent summaries of times shared that friends offer one another when their moments together are coming to an end.

I've been humbled by many of the expressions friends have shared this past week+. And even moreso, honored by the revelation that I've played a significant role in their recent developments. While many of them have certainly impacted me on a great scale, perhaps it's human nature to downplay one's role in another's life.

Regardless, it's been a rollercoaster of emotions this past 2 weeks. Yet as the departure neared, all I really wanted to do was kick it with family. And that speaks volumes of our connection because this city is full of potential distractions. But looking back, it's all been so majestic as the days have played themselves out.

Zooming out a bit, Tokyo has been quite an exciting chapter on the path. From the music connections, to the Rising Suns experience in Paris, to the discovery of Kyoto. This place has provided the full spectrum of experiences from triumphs to heartbreak and disappointments.

Although my overall perspective on Japanese people remains in limbo, I will say this country, and the opportunities provided within it, have left a lasting impression on my being. And even greater than that. The friends I have found here, will undoubtedly be my peoples for life!!

This is my last post from Japan. I hope to express much more in these ever-so-crucial days of transition ahead.

Blessings and Light..
And Infinite Gratitude to the Spirits of Japan which not only guided my here, but also took good care of me while navigating It's soil.
One Love