When was the last time I danced to "My Girl"…

Every time I went to that club, I’d earnestly try to learn the steps.

Was it from Yokosuka, or Atsugi,

or perhaps from Yokota Air Base?

The place where you could hear the latest R&B was rumored to be filled with

only Black soldiers.

It was at the bottom of the valley between Roppongi and Shibuya,

in the town then called Kasumi-cho, perhaps it was shrouded in mist.

And not long before, this town where IT millionaires like Horie-mon strutted,

yes, Nishi-Azabu,

the Black men would come to dance,

and to find girls.

Come to think of it, there was a US military base in Nishi-Azabu too.

Someone once rumored that it was an intelligence agency…

Later,

when I was nineteen and right next to that base,

I opened a bar called Catch Box,

soldiers preparing to depart for Vietnam

often came to visit.

They would open bottles of whiskey,

their freshly shaved, innocent faces gradually turning red…

Perhaps they were trying to forget about Vietnam,

where they might die,

they drank a lot, but there were hardly any who became unruly.

Come to think of it, most of the soldiers who came were white.

Perhaps that was because

the records I was playing

were mostly rock music at the time.

And many of them were anti-war rock songs…



That’s right, "My Girl." The era was a little earlier.

Those Black men had high waists,

and with their protruding, large behinds, they looked good in it,

iridescent, shimmering suits,

shirts with wide collars and stiffly starched, long cuffs,

I believe the sleeves had double cuffs.

And around their eyes, with double or triple lashes,

women with eyes made up completely black with eyeshadow.

Ah, that’s right,

late at night, from my rich friend’s Hiroo apartment,

clutching a 500-yen bill,

I hitchhiked to Nishi-Azabu.

It was a carpet bar where you took off your shoes.

At that carpet bar, "GT," the entrance fee allowed you to enjoy

a small bottle of beer or a pizza.

After that, it was just dancing.

Just being able to dance, just being able to listen to music,

was enough back then.

I was still an innocent junior high school student.

And, someday, I too would have my "My Girl"…

But in the end, I was in an all-boys school, in a sports club, and working.

So, of course, such a chance wouldn't come until after I graduated high school.

My Girl…

My Girl

Within this poignant, romantic melody,

in the dim darkness of the carpet, illuminated by dazzling black lights,

I danced, crying, back then.

The tears that flowed for no reason,

were the stirrings of youth, or perhaps, it was the music's fault after all.

Just the music, just being able to dance,

was enough back then. A precocious junior high student, I suppose.

My Girl, whom I would never meet…

So the "My Girl" I dreamed of back then

is still in that place from back then,

and I will never meet her again.

To understand such a simple thing,

did it take this long?

I don't wish to go back to those days,

but the possibility of meeting my "My Girl"…

Such a romantic thought

is something I still don't want to give up, no matter my age.

Hmm?

Ah, a fool is a fool.

The music from back then makes me write such foolish things.

Well, I guess you'd say

Foolish, foolish, foolish, foolish

Woof woof woof woof

Woof

Fool

I don't need no money
Fortune or fame
I've got all the riches baby
One man can claim

What a great era.

Men are fools forever.

Come to think of it, Hiroshi Fujiwara's

event title

Mellow Madness

In retrospect, it was a perfect title.

Mellow, romantic,

it's actually a man's sensibility.

My Girl

Lyrics for "My Girl"

I've got sunshine
On a cloudy day
When it's cold outside
I've got the month of May

I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl
(my girl, my girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl
(my girl)

I've got so much honey
The bees envy me
I've got a sweeter song
Than the birds in the trees

Well, I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl
(my girl, my girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl
(my girl)

I don't need no money
Fortune or fame
I've got all the riches baby
One man can claim

Well, I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl
(my girl, my girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl
(my girl)

(Talkin' 'bout my girl)
I've got sunshine on a cloudy day with my girl
I've even got the month of May with my girl

Talkin' 'bout, Talkin' 'bout, Talkin' 'bout
My girl

My girl

← Diary-T 74-79