North America Guitar Tour
Detroit
August 9, 2014
I was always asked, "Are you going to Detroit?" I had heard that the city had gone bankrupt a few years ago, and that the security situation had deteriorated accordingly. It seems like a lie that it once flourished as the mecca of the automobile industry and the city of the Motown sound. I had a strong image of this city as sung about in Paul Simon's "Papa Hobo," so it would be better if it had a little dirtier parts.
I drove the distance of just under five hours smoothly in about seven hours with the navigation system, and arrived safely in front of Chuck's mother Cleo's house in Detroit. Once you get to the house like this, you don't even notice the security situation, and if I didn't have a driver's license, I might not have come in the first place.
As I parked the car and looked toward the house, a young man came out and asked, "Are you Hiroshi?" It was the usual pattern. I took my guitar and suitcase out of the trunk, carried them into the house, and was shown to the place where I would be performing that day. There was a large swimming pool about 25 meters by 10 meters, and a chair was placed at the base of the diving board in the center of the short end, where I was to perform. The chair was placed on the poolside, but it was safe up to the point where my feet and microphone stand were placed, and if I moved a little forward, it would bounce around. It's a diving board. And if I dropped something, there was almost a 100% chance that it would end up in the water. I carefully placed the AER under the chair, tried to place small items such as the tuner as far back as possible, and somehow I was ready.
Stairs leading up to the stage
I wondered where everyone would sit, and started warming up my fingers in front of a table on the terrace, when Chuck's sister and many relatives and acquaintances came over and it became a makeshift concert. This continued for about an hour, and my fingers were completely warmed up, but there was no sign of the actual performance starting. Some people were already quite prepared (drunk). So I asked, "Are you going to start yet?" and they said, "We can't start until Cleo arrives." The way they said it was absolute, just like the Italian-Americans you often see in gangster movies. In short, Cleo is the godmother. I'm sure it was Cleo's decision to play in such a unique place. No one should have any doubts.
After another 30 minutes, Cleo finally arrived and the party began. From my position, there was a slightly large field to the right, where many people from the neighborhood had gathered. Cleo and her friends took up positions on the opposite bank from me, about 25 meters away. Trying to understand this situation makes you go crazy, so I just played while shouting back to the requests that sounded like they were shouting from afar. I could see some children on my right, so I also played Sesame Street.
Gradually, darkness began to cover the evening, and when I looked up, I could barely see Cleo and her friends on the opposite bank. At this point, the people on my right had also scattered. I continued playing until late at night, occasionally calling out "Are you still there?", and finally there was no response. I carefully got off my chair and went to the other side, where I found Cleo completely drunk, and only a few of the support staff still there. She said, "I really wanted to meet Hiroshi, who my son Chuck fell in love", I was grateful. In the middle of our conversation, Cleo tried to stand up, but she was already in a state where she couldn't do it on her own. When I tried to hold out my hand, I was told not to move. I don't really understand the rule in this area. The support staff silently whispered to me, "You don't have to do anything."
After all, about 10 minutes later, Cleo was carried by the support staff into a car and drove off somewhere. I thought for sure that this was Cleo's house, but it seems that it was her sister's house. Her sister and her husband, who I had been talking to and had become close with before the party started, had already gone to bed. With such an impossible situation continuing, all I can do is smile. In fact, I was enjoying everything to the fullest, as if I was in a movie.
I was shown to a room where I was told to sleep, and fell asleep without remembering what I had eaten, or if I had eaten anything at all. There was a BBQ on my right, but I don't remember eating it.
*The people who appear in the text are listed by their initials until their identities can be confirmed.
Contents
Introduction
Until Departure
Seattle
To California
Day Off
Sunnyvale
To La
LA 2 Days
To Tucson
Albuquerque
To Colorado (beginning of Miracle)
Berthoud
Denver
to Oklahoma City
Oklahoma City 2 days
To Texas
San Antonio
Georgetown
Dallas
Houston 2 Days
Benton
Nashville (CAAS)
Roswell
Tampa 2 Days
Miami
Orland 2 Days
Myrtle Beach
Chapel Hill 3 Days
Kingsport
To Indiana
Indiana State Fingerstyle Guitar Festival
To Staten Island
Manhattan
Phillipsburg
Nazareth (Martin Guitar Factory)
To Massachusetts (end of Miracle)
Methuen
To Montreal
To Buffalo
Meadvill A Day Before
Meadvill Ghost Hotel
Detroit
Chicago
Minneapolice
Spin Off #1
Spin Off #2 "EU Tour IN 2008 / Until Departure
Czech 1
Czech 2
London
Liverpool
Chesham
To Germany
Lemgo
Ingolstadt
Bregenz
To Italy
Florence
The Last Gig
Going Home