JAPAN!!!!! Part 20

Day 11 & 12: Yokohama (the final show & the final day)

This was it, what we had been waiting for, the reason why Joe was brought to Japan, and how I got there: it was time for the Magma fest…

Here’s Joe at the merch table…

… which was located right next to the second stage….

Like in Okinawa, you had 30 bands in 12 hours, actually more, but this time there were two stages; as soon as one band wrapped up on one stage, another would immediately begin playing on the second stage. So there was plenty to listen to, as well as see, such as the always active skateboard ramp…

The Yokohama show was heads and tails better than the Okinawa show. Aside from having a proper venue, the audience was simply there. Which meant plenty of tickets were sold (at least far more so than at the first show), yet another encouraging sign. Doors opened at noon, and there were already a decent number of kids throughout the floor. Here’s one girl’s shirt which was simply too awesome to not take a picture off…

Unfortunately, that badass dude who did kung-fu on stage while signing was not at the show. But, at least there was Red Bacteria Vacuum, a punk rock girl trio. Actually, it was two girls and a dude; the drummer apparently had to bow out when she got pregnant. In her place was very cool, Abe Lincoln looking dude. Anyway, they were pretty fucking awesome…

Since I over-slept and missed out on the complimentary breakfast at the hotel, I had to content with food from 7-11… which I was more than happy to accept. Lunch was a corn-dog and a pizza bun. Imagine a pork bun, but with pizza filling…

… Sounds gross, but it was great! Like Jason said, its basically a reverse pizza. Oh, June ended up taking a snapshot of me eating a corndog from afar. Very funny, but VERY unflattering. So I’ll have to pass, sorry.

Later, and as expected, I became pretty bored, so June and I decided to check out Chinatown, which I had heard so much about from folks on message boards when asking for stuff to do and see. And it… sorry to say this… kinda kick’s New York’s Chinatown to the curb (though it looks very similar to what San Francisco has)…

Though for some reason, maybe it got knocked around, or perhaps due to overuse, but my camera started to act all strange, so many pics taken came out out of focus. So apologizes for the blurriness…

We had heard that the food was amazing, but unfortunately, we were still full from our lunches, though we did have some room for these buns, which had plum filling…

Here’s some tea from a gift shop…

And some smokes…

A love hotel sticker…

For DJs and… whomever…

No matter where in the world, you will find Michael Jackson…

Some more shellacked food on display…

Yet another temple…

We found this guy dressed as a panda at shopping center. It was pretty warm out, and I’m guessing these group of kids and their mom knew this, so they tried their best to help him stay cool…

While walking back to the show, we passed by the stadium and noticed a fair going on in the parking lot and decided to check it out. Plenty of food booths were on-hand, and virtually every single one of them served octopus in some fashion, whether it be on a stick, diced and served in an omelet, or other…

You also had squid…

And potatoes…

Plus masks for the kids! I would have nabbed the Bomberman one to the upper left if they had an adult size…

Another random thing on the street: this Jackie Chan poster…

Magma raged on, and on, and on. But thankfully, the crowd was nice and big and enthusiastic…

At one point they brought out a ladder onto the skate ramp and kids would launch from way, way high…

… And from where I was sitting, which was in the upper area, not once did I see a kid soar up the other side. Instead, I would see a board fly in some direction and a group of people laughing and applauding the attempt.

Also from where I sat, I took a nap, as did a lot of folks. Actually, most were passed out. Mostly because there was plenty of booze on-tap, and Asians don’t exactly have the highest of tolerances. In fact, there was a good number of people passed out drunk by 1 in the afternoon, just an hour into things. And that number would simply increase as things went on, and actually cause complications later on…

One interesting character that I met at the show was another American, someone whom Joe had done work for and befriended. I forget his name, but he was from Chicago and was living in Tokyo with his Japan girlfriend, whose name I also forget. Only met them once and it was brief, but I still feel pretty bad about it. Anyway, the most important part to know is that he was trying to push “man glaze”. And what exactly is “man glaze”? Well, what does it sound like? Actually, its nail polish for men. He wanted to call it “male polish” but someone already taken that name. Anyhow, Joe did the art for the label, and he was on-hand to push bottles of the stuff. When I was introduced to the dude, I went “Oh hey, the man glaze guy!” Which at that point, his girlfriend who was wearing it decided to show off her nails… and I immediately noticed that the tip of one finger was gone. And it looked pretty gruesome too… maybe it was the work of some Yakuza? I think I made a funny face, I forget. I would learn afterwards from Joe that she likes to do that since it is pretty funny. And really nice people! Wish I got the chance to hang out with them more during the trip.

Anyway, I soon became bored once again, so I decided to explore the area a bit. I ended up stumbling across that same strip mall from the previous night, but since it was much earlier, everything was still open…

… Including this place that I guess heals maladies via snake venom…

Here some street band, with small, but very interested, group of girls. They sounded really good! And a great break from all the punk and hardcore music from that day…

Some gentleman’s club near the venue…

Which apparently was looking for talent…

Just one of the many passed out Japanese punk kids on the floor from the show…

So it was like 10 or 11. The show was almost over, and by all accounts, it was a raging success. The audience was totally into the music, but more importantly, they were getting drunk and buying merchandise. Money was (finally) being made. I figured that the whole scene would at last satisfy all the angry, ass hat American musicians that had been such pains in the asses and that everyone would finally be happy. All fears of some stupid “incident” had gone away.

And then all hell broke loose.

I was up in the upper level when I noticed that one of the inflatables, one right next to the stage, was starting to deflate, and super fast. I immediately rushed to the scene, or at least tried to since the crowd was thick and hard to maneuver through. Again, “move!” doesn’t work that well when there’s a language barrier. When I arrived, I discovered that there was a tear, hence the air letting out. It was initially assumed that maybe it was some accident; perhaps someone was wearing something sharp, like a spiked wristband, and brushed by, which then got caught. Despite how the material used is super strong and thick, to handle the elements (since they’re basically the same kinds of balloons that Macy’s uses for their Thanksgiving parade, which has to withstand stuff like tree branches). But once the hole was isolated, after wrangling with the inflatable for ten-fifteen minutes, which was difficult due to all the people still crowded around it, plus it’s awkward shape, it was pretty clear that it was cut on purpose.

And I was examining the whole, that’s when Keith went “LOOK!!!” The other inflatable, the big eye-ball with spider legs from across the way was now going out of control. The big problem here was that tons of passed out kids were all sleeping at its based. And considering that each inflatable weighed a couple thousand pounds, someone could potentially be crushed and killed. So again, we all rushed across the way. This time nothing was cut, but the support lines had been tampered with. Both balloons getting messed with at the same time was fishy enough, but right when the one band whose members had been the center of the incident at the hotel the week prior took stage? It just felt way too suspicious. The band in question btw was Madball, and they exhibited true professionalism by going way overboard with their set by playing like 25 songs, practically an hour, far more so than any other act. Again, they were a true professionals. Maybe I’ll get some shit for calling them out? Honestly, I could give a rat’s ass.

Anyhow, once under control, we let the air out, even though the show was still going on, to prevent any other possible dangerous situations, which was tough since not only did it involve getting people to move (I literally had to roll one girl out of the way who was totally zonked out), but once more, its huge size and even more awkward shape meant the entire process was like half an hour, which in the end isn’t horrible, though in a less than ideal environment. As the air was being let out, some kids felt the need to jump in, but they were just having fun, and it helped to force the air out (I believe even Harley joined in for a bit).

The last act was I believe Sick Of It All. One of the very first things they did when they went on stage was complain, by stating that certain folks had “fucked up” and how they were supposed to play over an hour before. Hey, fuckface, the reason why everything ran long is because your dipshit buddies decided to hog the fucking stage! Seriously, what assholes, and sorry to anyone reading this who are fans of them or Madball or any of the other American acts I’ve said less than nice things about, but they were all seriously huge fucking douchebags (with, once again, the exception of everyone in Murphy’s Law and Harley’s War; those guys at least weren’t acting like spoiled children or bitching about stupid shit at every single turn).

Here’s a shot of the stage, during the last song, with everyone on stage. Everyone in the shot looks super happy, and I bet they were, though myself and my party just wanted to get the fuck out of there…

On the cab ride to the hotel, I got a snapshot of this…

… Some weird building, which I thought was maybe a hotel with a bear motif. I had to find out more, and I told this to Joe and June when we got out at our hotel. Joe mentioned how I was nuts and asked if I had noticed all the shadiness walking the streets. And I confessed that I really wasn’t paying attention; I apparently missed a bunch of white dudes, all of whom where part of the fest, picking up prostitutes. But I also really didn’t care; it was my last night in Japan, which meant one last chance to take pictures.

That’s not to say I didn’t play it safe; I figured if there was any chance for shit to go down between myself and the angry punk rockers, that would be the night. So before leaving, I changed the SD card in my camera; if I got beat up and my camera smashed, I’d be pissed if I lost any of the pictures I had taken. But with a fresh card, I had nothing to lose! Not really, but you know what I mean.

One of the first things I stumbled across was… a maid cafe? So strange; I had assumed that they were only in Tokyo, where it was more urban and such a demand for such services existed. I decided to check it out. And it appeared to be like all the other maid cafes I had already encountered, but slightly different. Each cafe always featured pictures of the women on-hand, all decked out in their uniforms, and looking all sweet and innocent. But this time, the girls looked like… skanky. So I took some pictures of them, which were posted on in the outside display. I then noticed additional pictures in the outside hallway, and since there was no door, I figured I’d step in a tiny bit, snap some shots, and be on my way. But as soon as I entered the space, I triggered an electronic doorbell, you know, like that “bing-bong” you hear whenever someone enters a 7-11? At that point I realized that maybe I shouldn?t be there, so I quickly took my pictures and walked away swiftly.

About a half a minute later I heard someone running towards me and yelling. And like a total idiot (hey, when you?re someplace where you can?t understand anything or anyone, your instincts get dulled), I just turned around and stood there, to watch the guy catch up to me.

It was a guy from the caf? and despite not appearing to know much English, he was pretty clear throughout our exchange. He first asked “Camera? Take Pictures?” And when I said yes, he then simply said “Erase.” Which I was totally willing to do it, since I had encroached upon territory that I shouldn’t have been at. But before I even got started, he pulled out a switchblade knife out of his pocket, activated the blade, and shoved it right in my face. “Erase. Now.” And the thing was, he was clearly nervous, which made him a hundred percent more dangerous. So as nice and as calm as possible, as to not make him nervous or scared, otherwise, he might have slashed my throat, I erased every picture on my camera, and I did it nice and slow. After each pic, I would go “See? Erased.” And when that was done, he put the blade away, turned around, and ran back. Believe it or not, I wasn?t scared. It wasn?t till much later when I finally thought about the whole situation and went OMG, OMG, OMG, I ALMOST GOT KILLED! But at the time, I was fairly cool and relaxed. Funny as it sounds, I think it was all the adrenaline going through my system that kept me level-headed.

I was still on a mission, and damnit, I was going to get what I came for: another picture of that bear! So I went further, up the sketchy street that I had been previously warned about, and which had gotten a knife in my face about two minutes in. And it was hella sketchy alright. The further I went, the more women of the night popped up. And at pretty much every single point of the trip, no matter where I was, or whom I was dealing with, everyone seemed so nice and friendly. But these women, they looked surly as all hell. They wanted something… well, my money, obviously, and weren?t too happy to be denied. I quickened my pace and soon wondered what the fuck I was doing and what I had gotten myself into. Eventually I found my target, but it then dawned on me that perhaps this hotel with a bear theme was maybe a bordello in disguise, much like the maid caf?, and if I tried taking a pic, some guy in a bear costume would come running out with a samurai sword. But also, by this point a bunch of prostitutes were all glaring at me, the stupid American tourist that doesn?t want to have sex but instead take a picture of a fucking bear. Which is why I only tool one pic. Its blurry, but I just didn?t feel like taking more for “insurance”…

I decided to go back to the hotel as quickly as possible, but via zigzag fashion and I also constantly switched side streets, to whatever looked empty (I felt like I was in a zombie movie, and I was being followed, just slowly). In retrospect, that could have been more dangerous, but I clearly wasn?t thinking. At least it explains why in horror films, people go down a path that seems “obviously” dangerous. But, I would not be denied by prize, so from what I though was a caf? distance, I managed to snap one far away exterior of the maid caf? that was probably a whorehouse?

I soon went back onto the main drag, where there was plenty of lights and traffic. And I knew I was okay when I saw cutesiness on the walls once again!

Though by this point, I knew it was time to call it a night. Maybe it was this angry monkey?

The next day was my last day in Japan. Or so I wondered; when I met everyone in the lobby, there was no clear cut idea of what the plan was; all we knew was when our flight was leaving. Again, I had this feeling that there might not be any tickets and that we?d be stranded in Japan. A week before, there was talk about hitting Harajuku before taking off, for one quick glimpse of all the crazy cosplaying teens on parade, but by that point, we just wanted to make sure that we got to the airport on time, since we had no real idea what was in store.

While sitting around in the lobby, Harley showed up, and he was pissed. Word was, none of the bands got paid. The thing was this: all the disorganization and apparent lack of funds was acceptable, at least in my mind, to a point. But things were clearly past that point; the final show was over with, money had clearly been made, which is why everyone who was owed money should have gotten it afterwards, as per the original plan (plus that?s just how it works in general, from what I understand). By that point, in the morning, everyone should have had no further reason to bitch. But there was. Actually, some people did get paid, not just everyone, hence why Harley was pissed. One particular person, the aforementioned trouble maker, the guy that tried to get everyone all pissed off and practically start a mutiny, the one who was nice to Hide one minute and trashed in the second he was out of ear shot, as well as the one with five year old that wants “beer” and “bitches”, well that guy got paid THREE times because he was in three different bands. And Harley, as was raging in the hotel lobby, mentioned that even though he was best friends with the guy, he so wanted to kick his ass (as did Harley?s wife). Needless to say, we were all cheering for Harley.

Eventually we decided to make our way to the airport ourselves, instead of waiting for a lift that may or may not come (or be super late). The trip involved taking a cab to a bus station, to then catch a shuttle to the Narita.

Despite the previous night?s dangerous encounter, I was still in the picture taking mood, so here I am riding shotgun in the cab. I?m mostly showing this picture because the driver was super nervous, and I think you can tell from his ID that he?s just the nervous type.

We drove alongside an underpass that was decorated by various artists. It was pretty awesome and I believe it stretched for at least a mile, maybe two. Here?s one section, that looks like some huge angry masked Mexican wrestler…

Here I am at the bus station, with my ticket and my very last soda of the trip (and it will remain my last soda till the next time I?m in Japan)…

And here?s some shots from inside the tinted windows of the bus…

The airport was such a nightmare, at least for me. As feared, my suitcase exceeded the weight limit. Thankfully, I brought a spare bag with me, one that MK?s mom had given me for Christmas, but it was part of what was keeping all the contents from shifting around. Plus I got into a minor confrontation with some asshole who got pissed when I thought I cut in front of him at the ticket counter (when I went to re-arrange my stuff, I was told I could come straight to the front). Plus everyone was just cranky; even though we had all loved Japan, it was clearly time to leave.

And the plane ride back? A nightmare. I?ve been on rocky flights before, but it was totally ridiculous. The amount and degree of turbulence made everyone super scared (as well as nauseous). I too thought the plane was going to fall apart and crash. And it hit early on, and I simply prayed that the plane would be turned back around (making things worse was how it was clear skies outside, so all the moving and shaking made zero sense). And you?d think at a time like that, the captain could make announcements explaining what was happening, or at least assure us that everyone was okay. Nope. He made announcements alright, but just to let us know that available for purchase were plenty of great duty free items! And then, to add to the confusion and frustration, some of the male flight attendants were dressed like the captain! So here we are, thinking we are going to die, and the dude that you think should be flying the plane is trying to sell booze. At least my TV set worked throughout the flight; unfortunately, half the people on the plane couldn?t get theirs to work till the system got rebooted three times. And normally I would say people who can?t watch television on a plane should just deal with it, but on a thirteen-hour flight, there?s reason to bitch. I myself made the mistake of trying to watch all three Lord of Rings film back-to-back. I never want to see Frodo ever again.

Once we arrived in America (we had left 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon, and we arrived? 1:30 on a Sunday afternoon! Actually, more like 2:15, but you get my point), we were not greeting cute cartoon characterss but by the ultra rude and incompetent Newark airport staff, and it just made us feel all that better to be back in America.

The trip, and the party, was over.