A canal of Tokyo

A canal of Tokyo
Originally uploaded by SUNDANCE さんだんす

This reminds me of the Tokyo I visited so frequently in the early 1960s. My first trip to Tokyo was aboard a Pan American Airways 707 in August 1961. We departed San Francisco International around 7:00 a.m. We landed in Honolulu around noon. I do not know how the time differences affects this short narrative, I am simply relating to the time I saw on my watch. After one half hour in Honolulu, time enough to catch a glimpse of DIamondhead and send three postcards home to sister, aunt and uncle and another friend, the Pan Am was in the air heading toward....a whole new world of fantastic experiences that have become memories that no money can ever buy.

During the flight, Kirin beer was served and rolled hot towels were handed to us for our freshen-up faces. "You feel better," the beautiful young Japanese attendant, in semi-kimono attire, said. It was at that moment that I knew I was going to have experiences beyond my imagination. Everything was so structured in a most ceremonial manner. Once our plane landed at Haneda, customs was easy and an English speaking representative of Pan Am directed us to our U.S. Navy bus nearby, smiled, bowed, shook our hands and said, "You will have nice time Japan, very nice."

The bus began rolling out of the airport complex and into busy and narrow street. It was August 1961, and I do not recall the bus getting on to any major freeways or super highways. There was no Hollywood Freeway in Tokyo at the point in time, at least not to my knowledge. I am glad there was no freeway. The journey to Atsugi was one busy and unforgettable ride with a thousand different aromas and scents teasing and plundering my olfactatory senses. It was a blend of smells, scents, aromas, like nothing my mind had ever experienced; it was the smell of the Orient, a pleasing and mysterious aroma, a scent of a romantic lifestyle that I had only theretofore entertained in youthful fantasy. Oh, yes, everything was totally different than San Francisco, totally different than Los Angeles, and totaly different than Kansas CIty, Missouri. For a youth that had yet to enter my twenties, I felt like my decision to join the Navy was the wisest decision I had ever made. Later, as the conflict in Vietnam grew more intense, I realized that such a decision might have a big influence on my life