|Boats for hire to have a party at night out on the river|
The cello can make me cry. Not the music played necessarily, just the sound. This beautiful instrument, a piece of architecture, was played poignantly (Bach) at the recent funeral of Toshio Yasuma, a lovely man who brought the spices of the world to Japan as a commercial venture. A thousand people attended, from all over the world, and many of Tokyo's most aware restauranteurs. After the ceremony, there was a standing, pass-your-plate banquet of inspired Indian and French dishes. To the side were tins of Beluga and for those so inclined a bottle of Lafite '91 was opened.
It was a good goodbye to a good man.
I would have liked to have learned to play the cello, but it is so large: like playing an umbrella. Other things I wish I had at least dabbled in while I was growing up: dance, the harpsichord, juggling, magic, the stupendous game of go, kohdo, the Italian language. Too late, too late.