Konnichi Wa
Through the DIY attitude of early skateboard culture, I met one of my best friends, T.O. In the early '90s, a strange marketing gimmick emerged in the skateboard community: the ollie flap. It was a thin piece of leather you could fasten to your shoes through the shoelaces to keep them from getting destroyed.
The sun was shining, the skies were blue as always in Santa Barbara. I was walking up the hill after PE class and there he was. I saw this Japanese kid standing there, looking around a bit confused. Then I noticed his shoes—he was wearing an ollie flap. I instantly felt a connection. We were both skateboarders. T.O. was officially a foreign exchange student, while I just felt like one in my new life in Santa Barbara. I went over to talk to him and see if I could help him find his next destination at the school. We started chatting, and although it was a little rough at first since he was Japanese and probably feeling like a fish out of water, we pushed through the awkwardness, using skateboarding as our common ground.
T.O. had the official ollie flap, while I had a ghetto version I’d created from a scrap piece of leather I bought at a local leather shop, punching holes in it to thread through my laces. Within a few months, T.O. and I became good friends. He was living with the Snyders, an American family that lived within walking distance of the high school. They were a very sweet and welcoming family. Down the road, T.O. and I ended up renting a little studio that the Snyders had connected to their house, and we lived together for a few years. More about those adventures to come.
T.O. had a very calm and reserved nature that I was drawn to. I, on the other hand, was a bit feral, trying to be this punk, skater, artist with a rebellious streak, yet with an undercurrent of Midwestern reserve and shyness. I think I may have finally found a middle ground for these conflicting personality traits.
I feel I pressed against his code of ethics and cultural upbringing many, many times. He came from a good family with solid values, while I was a shithead navigating through the shit show of my life. He had such patience and a huge heart for me. I will always love this man.
I have this very vivid memory from when I was around six years old. I was standing in the front yard of the haunted duplex that my mother and I lived in. Suddenly, I had this striking, visual moment: an image of myself with a Japanese sleeve tattoo, playing a stand-up bass. I was just a kid. I had never seen a Japanese person or a Japanese tattoo before. I had no idea where this vision came from. It was just inked into my consciousness.
Years later, T.O. became my conduit into Japanese culture. We even had a band together, where I played the electric bass. And now, I have a Japanese sleeve tattoo. It's weird how things come full circle. Not sure what it means, but it's one of those uncanny connections that life sometimes throws our way.
T.O. introduced me to a whole other world and culture. As we grew older and closer, he opened up his Japanese world of friends, food, movies, and music to me. I loved it all. There was something about it that resonated deeply with me. I would hang out with this group of Japanese guys for hours, drinking, smoking cigarettes, playing card games, watching movies, or just listening to music. I would observe the tones and cadence of their speech, trying to pick up the subtle nuances. I even started watching Japanese movies on my own, paying special attention to the subtitles and gradually picking up words and meanings to use in conversation. It was a magical time.
Over the years, I ingrained myself into this culture. I started working at a Japanese restaurant and eventually became a sushi chef—thanks to my cocky mouth on one drunken night. I even ended up moving to Japan.
T.O. is such a beautiful human. He now resides in Japan, married with two kids. I haven’t seen him in over 18 years, but every now and then, we video chat online. He still skates and plays guitar. There’s so much to say about how influential and what a beautiful soul he is.
He was such an amazing dancer—so good that I had him star in my first short film, which ultimately got me into film school. I think I have a copy on a VHS tape that I’ll convert to digital and post here soon. My friend JH might have even given me a digital copy already, so I'll see if I can find it.
If it’s not clear, I’m struggling to find the words to express my gratitude and love for my friend. My original intention with this blog was to tell stories, bring them to life, and entertain. However, I went to a celebration of life last night, and it has put me in a strange, reflective mood. I feel immensely grateful for the patience, love, and understanding that so many of my friends have shown me throughout my life.
LOVE & LIGHT;
MM
EYE HOLES:
EAR HOLES:
That was a very beautiful retrospective. What a great friendship to reflect upon.