Savage Words: A pair of brown shoes in a tuxedo world

I spent the entire week last week in Tokyo visiting my daughter who goes to school just north of the largest city in the world.

Me and 37 million others, just shuffling around, going through life.

I observe a lot. I look around, I watch people. I watch what they do, take in their mannerisms, watch how they interact with others, even though last week I didn’t understand a word they were saying.

Every morning, I ate at the same place in our hotel. Their breakfast spread was impressive. A lot of the food I’d never seen before, but I tried it all. Turns out an over-easy egg, a piece of toast and a coffee won out for me, but still, it was interesting to try everything.

But each morning I sat there, I was reminded of a great line from comedian George Gobel on the Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson from March 6, 1969.

“Did you ever get the feeling that the world is a tuxedo and you’re a pair of brown shoes?”

That was me. As I looked around every morning, I was usually the only white face in the place. That was weird, and absolutely made me think about what it must be like back home for minorities in a very predominantly white America where I live.

I’d like to think we all treat others in the United States the same way the Japanese treated me while I was there. They are simply the kindest, most respectful collection of people I’ve ever encountered.

When I walked in each morning, I was met with not just a smile and an “oh-high-yo go-zah-ee-moss” (good morning), but they literally ran up to me, bowed out of respect as their guest, and escorted me to my table.

I don’t get that greeting at Fryn’ Pan in east Sioux Falls.

And it wasn’t just that way at the hotel breakfast joint. EVERYWHERE we went in Japan, when we walked in, it immediately got their attention. They quickly ran to us, eyes wide open, bowed, and politely guided us to our seats.

I was last in Japan 20 years ago for work. I noticed those things before, but I didn’t really appreciate it. I was probably too busy and absorbed in myself to really look around. I’m glad I looked around this time.

Although in the end we’re all the same, just human beings trying to provide for our families, trying to survive, trying to pay the bills, to live a fulfilling life, there were a few differences that I did notice.

I noticed that every … single … person in Japan took pride in their work. I never encountered anyone in Tokyo who was doing their job that looked disinterested. From the guy working at the convenience store, selling beer, wine and sushi bits at midnight, to the door person at the hotel, to the cashier at a fast food restaurant, to the guy cleaning and scrubbing the floor at the airport, they all gave the perception of respecting their job, their paycheck. I mean, the guy at the airport was on his hands and knees, scrubbing each tile inch by inch. I watched him, he stood up, smiled, and bowed to a group of strangers when they walked by. And then, back to his knees, scrubbing.

For a group of 37 million, they’re also very trusting. Our hotel in Yokohama had a sliding door entrance right off the street that led to a bank of elevators. That entrance was a small area, probably 30x10 with two elevator doors. Those elevators eventually led to the reception area a floor above. But in that small area on the street, it was filled with beautiful furniture, seemingly quality artwork on the wall, and three sculptures that sat on side tables.

I found that odd. These nice things were just sitting inside the sliding doors without any security around. After a couple of days, I asked one of the receptionists if they were ever worried that those things would be stolen.

With a puzzled look, she replied: “If someone took the chairs, then where would people sit?”

That was actually heart-warming. I told her that that approach probably wouldn’t fly in most American cities. 

I also noticed that there weren’t any overweight people in Japan. None. I never saw a fat Japanese person in the 10 days I was there. I’m sure there are some, after all, sumo wrestling is Japan’s national sport. But I didn’t make it to a match, so my perception stands.

There’s also a stereotype that Japanese people eat a lot of rice. I can tell you from first hand observations, that’s true. A lot of it, at every meal, including breakfast.

While I was working on my toast, egg and coffee each morning, the vast majority of the skinny people around me were hammering on rice, at a rapid pace.

How could that be? I thought rice had carbs, a sure-fire way of gaining weight. A little research showed me that one cup of white rice had 40 grams of carbs. Again, how is this group staying so thin?

By the end of my excursion, I started eating rice for breakfast, too. Perhaps some of that special anti-carb DNA the Japanese had would rub off on me. I’m not sure about that yet, but eggs, toast and coffee be-damned.

I’m back in the United States now, and it’s good to be home. I love my country, but I learned a lot from a former sworn enemy of ours. It’s incredibly hard to believe that 80 years ago, we killed each other by the hundreds of thousands. Thankfully we’ve both come a long way since then. 

At the very least, I’ve learned this from last week: If I can be half as nice for the rest of my life that the Japanese people showed me in 10 days, I’d consider it a victory.

Now, I’m off to the grocery store to purchase some Minute Rice to see if I can keep this new-found dietary approach going.

But I’m sure I’ll Westernize it and screw it up.

Sometimes I wish I could be that brown pair of shoes again.