Enka-Dream or Nightmare?

I'm on stage in a Little Black Dress, both hands clutching a mike held high, sword-swallowing style and hundreds of people are looking, listening to my final notes fill the auditorium. I've just finished my warble of an enka song about a lover's suicide, before an auditorium full of Japanese in very expensive formal attire.

Are you having the cold sweats with me? The tragic tune is in Japanese. A table of fellow foriengers is on my left. A table of relieved Japanese who have just sung versions of "April in Paris" is on my right. Between them like a dam holding the hordes back, is the table of judges and professional singers and language specialist. One madam stands out in a chiffonish dress full of rhinestones and peach colors, with boufant hair in hot contest with any country star, and a face decidedly the veteren of many late nights. She is responsible for this singing contest to promote the enka career of her son.

How did I get here? When a long time friend of mine sent email asking "Do you like enka?" I replied affirmatively. Little did I realize that meant that I was also volunteering for the contest. To my horror, I discovered too late to back out. I would never hear the end of it if I did, so shame and guilt nailed my fate. Several hours of listening to the tiny MD at home and making postcards of the lyrics did not make me confident. However, it was at the Tokyo American Club, so how bad could it be. Probably just a little get together....

...NOT. On the day of the contest I arrived and changed into my dress, got to know the other singers, and discovered in rehearsal the joy of karaoke--my voice would be electronically modulated to the right pitch and volume. With nothing to fear, I was ready to go. The auditorium just had a few people, and I like showing off for friends. Then, the doors opened and a stream of literally hundreds of fabulously well coiffed and dressed men and women poured in. I was trapped. One by one we went up to do our number, then the Japanese side came up as well. The winners were actually very good.

After the contest was done, we received prizes and these really made this all worthwhile. There were four phone cards with the son's handsome, somewhat Liberace-like face, in dramatic poses, and an overly-dyed blue terrycloth bathrobe with his name across the pocket. It remains a favorite. Afterwards, we were invited to Mom's little snack bar in a Shinjuku basement. What that costs I couldn't imagine. We were treated to lots of beer, sake and of course su-na-ku. Madam turns out to have been an enka singer too, and her pianist of some 30 years accompanied her and anyone else. Our winner, a fabulously handsome man from Miyazaki, confessed to years of singing lessons in New York City. The runner-up is a retired jazz singer.

After this, my fear of public singing is gone. Next time, I'm ready for the mike. Enka up!

It's News In Japan

Cat nips toes off resident at Saitama nursing home. SAITAMA--A female resident of a nursing home in Saitama Prefecture had the toes of her right foot bitten off, apparantly by a cat.

A spokesman for the nursing home said it learned of the incident when a resident who shares a room with the victim, who is in her 80s, pushed a call button to alert employees at about 5 a.m. The nursing home called an ambulance.

The woman lost the top joints of all the toes of her right foot, and there were scratches on her left foot. After the incident, nursing home employees noticed that a cat that lives in the courtyard of the nursing home had blood around its mouth. Paw prints of a cat also had been found around her bed, leading the nursing home to conclude that the cat was the culprit.

The suspicion was reported to the public health centers, which captured the cat. --Daily Yomiuri, around September, 2006

I say: Lord take me before I am so old that I cannot defend my toes from a snacking cat.

© 20078. Comments to Patricia Yarrow
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