When I write in this space I feel like Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles. Not that I wish to suggest I possess even a fraction of their talent, because I don't, but I do feel that I am flying blind.
Does that make sense to anyone?
By way of anecdotes, including some I may have published before, I once checked in at a hotel in Hollywood behind...Stevie Wonder! Plus, one of my best friends at the University of Michigan in 1965, Calvin, was Stevie's former childhood playmate while they both grew up in Detroit.
I hope these passing coincidences do not sound like name-dropping, dear reader, but while I am at it, maybe I feel comfortable in these dark glasses because I am more like another singer, Roy Orbison, who could see just fine but preferred not to.
Sometimes, the only relief here in America, circa 2007, is blocking it all out. Not just all the excessive imagery, and the noise, but the overlooked pain and the relentless suffering of a people held hostage by wicked consumerism of the type that angered Jesus, their main savior, leading him to upturn the tables of the greedy in a rage only the pure and the righteous can appreciate.
For the rest of us, our choices run a narrow gamut from cynicism to hopelessness.
How different to be Japanese! Not so much of this pain need be borne as long as you can embrace an appropriate fatalism.
Arrigato, my Japanese guide(s). Even those who can see need help in these matters.
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