A Haunting on Nash Street

Whether you believe in ghosts or not this is a true story. All the events are told to the best of my memory. I have no reason to lie and there's no profit to be gained. All the events that occur may be explained with scientific fact and I'm open to those explanations. Until then, I believe in the paranormal and the presence of ghosts because of the events that happened to me on Nash Street.

In Akron, Ohio there is a house at the end of Nash street on the corner of Huntington Avenue where I lived for one year during my sophomore year of university at the University of Akron.

The Nash street house taken from Google maps, June 2011.



I went to the University of Akron from 2000 to 2005 to study music. I graduated in August 2005 with a Bachelors in Music Performance Percussion degree. During 2001-2002 myself and four other classmates lived in the Nash street house.

There are 5 bedrooms; 1 on the first floor, 3 on the second floor and 1 in the attic. There is a living room and a kitchen on the first floor, 1 bath room on the second floor, there is no bath tub just a shower stall, and another toilet behind the kitchen on the first floor next to the back door. Between the living room and kitchen is a flight of stairs leading into the basement, a very dirty, grimy place where we kept instruments, had parties and such.

We moved in to the house and began school in late August. Nothing out of the ordinary happened for the first few months except for 9/11. The first occurrences that I noticed starting happening after that between late fall and early winter.

The first noticeable phenomenon was the disappearance and reappearance of objects. These occurred almost exclusively in the kitchen with the silverware. Typically it would go unnoticed but on one occasion my roommate blamed me and began an argument.

We were both standing in the kitchen while he was busy making food probably chatting about school. He put his spoon down on the counter then turned around to get a bowl. He returned to the spot where he had left the spoon and it was missing. He turned to me and said, "Did you take my spoon?" I had not taken his spoon and explained to him I had no need for it and wasn't playing a joke on him. As he turned around back to the spot the spoon had returned. He asked, "How did you do that?" I explained again that I didn't do anything and he had not seen it the first time which he agreed because it wasn't there.

The most frequent observable occurrences occurred on the second floor. The bathroom's east wall is shared by the stairs leading into the attic room. While showering it was common to hear footsteps running up and down the stairs. This phenomenon was experienced by everyone living in the house. The first few times it was beleived the roommate living up there was the cause. When we would exit the shower the door would be closed and the roommate's car wouldn't be in the driveway. Maybe he had quickly came home to grab some items and left.

When we questioned him about it at school he explained that he had not been home that day. He typically did not stay at the house and would go to his mother's house in Brunswick going directly to school.

Explanation number 2 became the pipes. The house was old so the water running through the pipes banging against the wall in a rhythmic pattern was conceivable. But why would they go from the bottom to the the top if the pipes led down the the sewer?

I didn't believe the pipes theory and was now convinced there was paranormal activity occurring within the house. This ghost wasn't hurting anyone, didn't cause any trouble and became a good story to tell to our friends, although it never appeared to more than one person at a time.

These were the typical occurrences through the winter and spring. The roommate living in the attic didn't stay at the house very often and never reported any strange happenings when he did stay the night. He kept in his room his pet ferret who had leukemia and spent most of it's time sleeping. When the roommate was away I was asked periodically to check up on him. When I was in the attic room alone nothing unusual occurred and things were pretty normal.

Sometime in the spring we acquired a dog. Friends of ours had found him on the street and because they were living in the dorm at the time couldn't take care of him. They reached out to us to keep him at our house until they could find a home, but one of my roommate's fell in love with him and he ended up staying with us until we moved out.

I am not from Akron or Ohio at all. I'm from Indianapolis in the neighboring state of Indiana, about a 5 hour drive from Akron. At the end of the school year I went home for a week and returned to the Nash street house. One roommate was from Idaho and went back for 2 months or stayed with his girlfriend, for whatever reason that I can't remember he wasn't in the house for most of the summer, and the other 3 lived in the greater Cleveland area and went home often as well. I was alone most of the time between late May and early July.

During one of these summer nights I came home from practicing at the school to find the dog home alone. We ascended the stairs to find the door to the attic room open with the light on. I called up to my roommate, but there was no answer. The dog who had followed me up the stairs was growling and gave a few small barks. I figured he was barking at the ferret and told him to stop. He kept looking up as I opened the door to my room. I turned around to call his name when suddenly a picture frame fell from the wall and tumbled down the stairs. The dog got spooked folding his ears back with an expression that he had been punished. A bit spooked myself trying to reason the events that just unfolded I carefully took a quick a peek up the stairs. There was no one there. Even more spooked than before I called to the dog and we both went downstairs into the living room and outside onto the front porch. I remained there for a while until finally someone came home. I told them what had happened and we went up stairs to see the picture frame still lying on the floor, the door open and the light on. I set the picture in the doorway, turned off the light and shut the door.

By late July most of the roommates had returned. One summer afternoon my roommates and some guests were sitting out on the front porch. I was in the basement playing the drum set we had set up down there. During this jam session I got the feeling I was being watched. I looked up to see a transparent figure standing at the bottom of the stairs. It quickly turned and began to run up the stairs. I could see it's milky white legs ascend the stairs. I stood up and went to the stairs and went up. I went out the door and saw my roommates on the porch. I went up the stairs to the second floor but didn't see anything. I went out to the porch and asked if they had seen anything, but unfortunately they hadn't. I told them what had just happened and they cautiously believed me.

I was happy to see it finally after everything that had happened. A final cadence to the long summer because  of personal reasons we decided not to live together anymore and had made arrangements to move out of Nash street by mid August. So unfortunately that was the last encounter I had with the ghost of Nash street

Two years later I played in a band with a guy who had lived in the house after we had moved out. I told him about the ghost and the things that had happened, but he never had any experiences with the ghost.

I've always wanted to return to fully investigate the paranormal activity. After that experience I have learned a lot about ghost hunting and would love to have proof that a ghost truly resides in that house. I can't say that I truly believed in ghosts before this experience, even though Ghostbusters is one of my favorite movies, after all this I can say for sure, I believe.

Snow White's Brothel

The guys teeth were missing. The ones he did have were all black and yellow with a filed down look as if he had been chewing on rocks. He put his hand to his mouth and made a cock sucking motion and in his best English said, "Suck, suck." The look on my face must been a complete horror show, but I mustered up the courage to ask in my best Japanese, "How much?" He didn't understand. I tried again but no response. I didn't have enough money to blow on blow jobs anyways so I waved my hand in a 'no' gesture and walked away.

I sometimes think about what those girls up there might of looked like. The maddening curiosity that I have now about the type of girls he was pimping based on those teeth should of been enough for me to say, "Fuck it. We're doing this."

I was living in Mie for one week when I had my first holiday. I had little money and nothing to do. I had been living in Osaka with my brother previously for one month, job searching and partying like crazy. The night before I left we had an awesome sayanora, good bye, party with all you can eat meat and karaoke. My Japanese friend had come along who I had met at a party for forienger people to mingle with Japanese or vice versa. We had a great time together and finally hooked up the night of the good bye party going to a love hotel. 

The sex was a bit tough on my cock. I hadn't anticipated the small size of Japanese condoms and had to pull and squeeze into that thing pretty roughly. By the time I got it on I was completely limp. We got on with it though and eventually it all worked out.

I left the next day right in the peak of the cherry blossom season taking the Kintetsu train from Osaka to Yokkaichi. I found the job through craigslist in Japan. The interview process had been a Skype interview with a guy living in California who had worked at the school a few years back.

When I arrived I was picked by the current teacher in his little pick up truck. We drove to the apartment through the city I would call home for the next 2 years. Riding in the car the guy seemed pretty nice, but as with all things in Japan looks can be decieving. 

He would jet off after work leaving me alone in the apartment or sit in my soon to be room playing computer games. One night I plugged in my laptop to watch a movie. I was confronted with the dilemma of unplugging the TV or the internet. I did the best I could find the source of each plug but unplugged the internet. Suddenly a barrage of cursing came out the room, apparently he was online gaming. He never mentioned it or said anything to me directly. He was very passive aggressive. 

Once the week of training was over he packed his truck and took off. I never saw or heard from him again. I was alone in a new country, new town, new apartment, new job and little understanding of the language. 

Each day I would venture out to explore this new place to quickly make it old. I was low on money and needed to exchange some traveler's checks. In the city it was no problem, except the exchange rate was terrible at the time. 1 dollar for 85 yen, roughly. In the country it was a bit more difficult. I went to one bank, but they denied my request and gave me a map to the main branch where to could do an exchange. I went there in the main city center where the main train station is located. 

The country train is an amazing and beautiful experience. Standing on the degraded platform in the spring sun waiting for the old train that comes twice an hour. On that platform for the first time, unprepared for the waiting, quickly learning to write down the arrival times and memorizing them by heart. 

In the heart of Yokkaichi I found the main branch of the bank to exchange my money. I was barraged with plenty of questions - 

Who are you?
What are you doing here?
What do you need money for?
Why do you want to exchange here?

Luckily enough the man behind the counter could understand how to use a dictionary to translate from Japanese to English. When I couldn't speak in Japanese he began writing out the questions from his dictionary for me to answer. The only answer besides my name was, "たべもの。おなかが空いた。" Which translates to, "Food. I'm hungry.' It wasn't a lie. I needed money for food because I was hungry. After he understood this he decided to exchange my traveler's checks and sent me on my way. 

Looking for food, a place to buy food or eat food, I walked through the shopping arcade. The arcade has two or three pachinko parlors, some expensive restaurants and a few boutique stores near the station. I didn't exchange very much and needed it to last until my first pay day so the expensive restaurants were out of the question. I walked deeper into the rabbit hole to find nothing but darkness and despair. Small shops holding on to life somehow, most shops used just for storage and most with big metal shutters over the entrance. You see this a lot in small Japanese towns. It's the Walmart effect similar to America, a giant shopping center comes to town and puts all the small businesses out of business.

Down and out one of the sides I came across a park. A very nice yet dirty park. There was a fountain that wasn't on, some playground equipment for the kids and a police box at the end. I walked around the park to the other side where there was a street. I walked down the sidewalk and from the distance saw a sign with Snow White sitting with the seven dwarfs eating a meal. Aha! At last, a place to rest my tired legs and eat. I walked up to the doorway to find a menu and Surprise! A man with no teeth appears before my eyes trying to usher me up the stairs. 

I never went back there, I probably never will. A little place in this world that exists or did exist, maybe it's not there anymore or maybe it is. Regardless if it's there or not, I hope that poor man finally fixed his teeth. Hygiene is important. 

Walking Scared

I was walking up the stairs to Umeda station from the Tanimachi line early on Saturday morning. I work in Hyogo prefecture in the city of Nishinomiya and take the Tanimachi line from my home to Umeda and walk to Hankyu station to arrive at Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi station by 9:00 am. This particular morning as I come through the gates on my way to the Hankyu side of Umeda I see a disturbing image in the distance.

The woman, roughly about 40 to mid 50's, is 170 cm tall with a long face and Japanese. Her face is painted completely white with red lipstick and heavily painted dark mascara around her eyes. The only similarity I'm able to come up with is Heath Ledger's Joker for the Dark Knight Returns. I've seen this woman before stalking around the stairs to Hankyu mall. At that time she was with another women with similar make up and bad sense of style. They were lurking about and seemed super supicious.

As I'm walking my way down the long hallway I avoid eye contact, keeping my head down and walking at a brisk pace. Across the main vein of the Umeda underground is a hallway leading to the Hankyu station. Down that hall are many restaurants, bakeries, and drinking spots. It's a popular throughway for people who aren't interested in walking on the street. It's cool in the summer and warm in the winter, plus you can see some of the most beautiful and cute women available to set your gaze upon. If your into Asian girls, of course.

On this particular day, a very beautiful girl was walking in the opposite direction wearing tight 90's style Jordache jeans. Her face was quite small and cute while her body was tall and lean. She seemed a little disproportionate but looked good regardless. Her hair was very long with red highlights tied up in a ponytail. As we passed by each other we made brief eye contact and kept walking to our designated destinations.

As I was walking, I turned left to the two escalators that take you up to the outside of Hankyu mall. While standing on the  first escalator I could hear a loud stomping behind me. The escalator is very narrow with no way to get around a person if your in a hurry, so I did the polite thing and began to walk up the escalator. Once on the second escalator I turned to see who was behind me and there she was, the Joker! She was following me and muttering in her best English for me to stop to have a chat.

I was a bit freaked out and began to walk faster doing my best to ignore what was happening. On top of the escalator I took a right towards the station. I could still hear the sound of shoes clunking behind me when I felt a touch on my hand. Freaked out I raised my hands up like there was a gun being pointed at me, palms open and kept walking. I looked behind me and something had fallen on the ground. It was money! She had tried to put money in my hand. I watched her as she bent down to pick it up and kept coming after me. She tapped me on the arm and I said "No, thank you." I sped up my pace and never stopped to listen to what she was trying to say.

I glided across the walkalator went straight up the escalator to Hankyu station. At the top of the escalator was my co-worker, he had played Terminator at Universal Studios Japan, rushing towards the ticket station. I ran up to him quickly explaining my situation, "Hey, this creepy woman is following me trying to give me money." He looked at me quizzically and proceeded to buy his ticket when the woman appeared next to him.

Startled, as he should be, he did his best to ignore her but she kept muttering something in English that we couldn't understand. He finally turned and said, "No, we don't want any." We went through the gates and headed toward the train. After sitting down I explained the story to him and shared a laugh about this peculiar situation that had occurred. 

Night Out at Club Bambi

We were sitting in the Mayflower lounge one night talking with my friends looking at my phone scrolling through Facebook when I saw a poster for a a party at Club Bambi, with a picture of a deer included. I made an inquiry as to if anyone would be interested in going to this party happening tonight. We quickly decided we didn't have anything better to do or anywhere better to go and got ready for a party.

We hopped on our bikes and rode into the night. My housemates - Ben, Hans, Sadik and I, didn't have to go very far. It is just down the road from our apartment; take a left; down that road a few blocks; down some side streets and there it is. Simple.

Ben is from English with a really strong body. He loves to do pull ups until he can't them anymore. His hair styled up and to the back almost resembles Hugh Jackman as the Wolverine, but a little wilder and not as straight. He wears a white T-shirt that is just a little too small so that his muscles buldge out with a pair of stylish ripped jeans. His style suits him alright, but you never get the filling that it fits his personality. I'm a bit of the same that way, but with dark clothes and of course I have a pair of Dickies for every day of the week.

Sadik hails from Pakistan, but lived in the U.S. for around 8 years, high school and college. After graduating he did contract work for the military in South Korea. He likes to talk and can talk a lot. He talks about all kinds of things to do with technology, news, war, guns, politics, games and movies. But most anything before 1991 he knows nothing about. He once said, "Queen? Who's Queen? You mean like the Queen of England?" because he didn't know who sang Another One Bites the Dust.

Hans comes to us from Sweden. In Sweden you can enroll in special programs and they'll pay for you to live in another country for a whole year. The catch is that you have to be enrolled in a language course. Him and his other Swedish buddies all go to the ACE Japanese Language School to learn Japanese. I guess America has programs like that but I never learned how to apply for them.   

Once we arrived a man sitting outside said, "Hey guys. Forigrners are free tonight." "Yeah, that's what we saw on the flyer." Ben replied. "Go ahead and park your bikes over there and get in line. It's filling up fast." he said. "Alright. Thanks." we all said chaining up our bikes and quickly getting ourselves in line. 

We were standing there for awhile waiting in the mens' line as the women's line quickly dimenished as they hold priority. They quickly get carded and shuffled into the elevators. At some point someone decided that we should use the stairs. Looking at the sign for the building directory I confirmed that the place we were all going was on the eighth floor as a simple dread entered my body. 

We started walking up each flight of stairs - 2, 3, 4 - the sweat starts dripping fromm my forehead. 5, 6, 7 - the sweat starts seeping from my armpits and dripping down by back and finally we reach the 8th floor. But there's a line at the door so we have to wait out on the stairs until we can filter through the line.

As we're waiting Sadik says, "Wow man. You're really sweating."
"Yeah, it's hot and we just walked up 8 flights of stairs."
"Yeah but I feel fine."
"Good for you."

We start to filter through the line as a guy stands at the door checking our IDs . We get patted down for weapons or whatever things we can bring in that aren't allowed. There's a television screen in the lobby showing a video of things not to do in the club. One is to not walk and smoke at the same time. Another is to not open other peoples lockers and steal their items. The last one I saw before going in was to not lift up girls skirts while on the dance floor. I think to myself that all these seem appropriate.

As Ben moves to the counter he turns and says, "Hey guys its going to be 2000 yen."
"Why is that?"
"She says it because we live in Osaka."
"What? Why does it matter where we live?" getting a bit frustrated.
"I don't know but I'll just pay. Are you going to pay?"
"Well we've already made it this far. We might as well."

We pay the entrance fee and move into the club. My first thought was, wow the music's loud. Why did I forget my earplugs! The second thought was given to me by Ben as he said, "Holy hell it's crowded in here."

We maneuver our way through the crowd looking for the bar. Although it was 2000 yen to get in we got a 600 yen drink ticket and just about everything on the menu was 600 yen. I make it to the bar where there are loads of people just leaning against the rail. I work slowly to push myself in between them to give my order. Just so I don't have to come back anytime soon I order 2 gin and tonics. The bartender has a very dull look on his face. He seems to strike me as someone who doesn't very much enjoy his profession at the moment. He has some exaggerated arm gestures which I quite admire as it reminds me of Tai Chi movements. He does this arm swooping movement and stops his hand in front of my chest. He's waiting for money. I hand him the drink ticket and he keeps his hand still. I pull out my wallet and give him the other 600 yen for the second drink. He closes his hand and gets to work quickly pouring the two drinks I had ordered. He hands them to me and stand at the counter drinking one while my friends order up their own drinks.

I finish the the first one in a hurry and start the second slowly. I get out the bar area and head towards the dance floor. There are a lot of young men and women in the crowd all facing the DJ. The Japanese always face the DJ as if were some type of concert. They continually wave and acknowledge the DJ's presence so he won't become sad and stop the music. Sometimes a DJ is a concert, for example RJD2. He DJ's with finesse and grace playing totally sick beats and melodies. There are a lot DJ's like him, Boyz Noize, and other some really good remix DJ's but Japanese club DJ's are not even close to that. They play the song either in it's original form or a popular remix from a different DJ. So basically just playing the CD. And not only that, they play techno hits from the late 90's and everyone cheers. It's a particular type of terrible that weights down your feet and makes it hard to move. Yet, you have to play along if you want to get that ass parked on your junk.

They're handing out promotional light sticks for some brand of tequila. They are waving these light sticks like mad. I mozy my way into the front of the dance DJ booth dodging light sticks left and right. There is an elevated dance floor that looks like there should lights flashing underneath but there aren't. It's just a white floor and a group of girls jumps up the floor and start dancing in front of me. It's pretty nice until two guys run up next to me and start dancing in a way that resembles head banging. They're convulsing their bodies as if dancing in an aerobics class and sweating furiously. The girls seem to enjoy it and cheer for them. Many times during their gyrating they come close to knocking my gin and tonic out of my hand. I start to move backwards to give them some space but more people just come around me and fill in the gaps.

One guy now standing in front of me gets my attention and asks me where I'm from.
"America." I said loudly.
"Oh, really. I lived in Canada."
"Wow. That's cool."
The music is so loud that our conversation can't go much further. I can't hear him and he can't hear me. I spot some of my friends and head over towards them.

Ben hands me 2000 yen. "I saw the guy from outside and said hey I thought you said it was free to get in? and he said it is, what happened? And I told him about the living in Osaka thing and he pulled out his wallet and gave us our money back. So here you go."
"That's great. I feel much better about coming here now."

We hang out on the dance floor for a bit but Ben doesn't like crowds so much and slowly starts to move out of the middle of the dance floor. I realize that I'm close to a foot taller than everyone in the club. That's such a stereo type that Japanese people are short. It's not always true. Usually on a train or in a shopping street many Japanese as just as tall or even taller than I am. Just in this moment I'm the tallest on the floor. I see the girls from the front of the room next to me now. I get a feeling that they might be following me. I turn and smile and start to dance a little. They smile back and laugh nervously and begin to walk away. Defeated I stay for awhile and eventually make my way back the corner where Hans and Ben are standing.

The guy from outside is standing with them and asks us, "Do you want a drink?" We all cheer "Yes." very enthusiastically. "What are you having?" Ben and Hans go for a Corona and I stick with my gin and tonic. Ben leans over and says, "This night turned out alright." "Not too bad." I reply. I spoke too soon.

The guy whose name I never got brings our drinks over. I take the gin and tonic in my hand then take a drink. I feel like spitting it out all over the floor. This gin and tonic and full of lime juice. I can't taste the tonic or the gin for that matter. I would throw it in the bartender's face if it wasn't free. Somehow I chug it down and make my way over to Sadik's location.

He's standing in front of a pillar in front staring at a girl in little shorts dancing to the music. Seeming preoccupied with the blaring of music and the girl who may be too young to be in a club I stand next to him with out saying much. I lean over and try to mention that we got our money back.

"What?"
"We got our money back!" I shout.
"Cool." giving a thumbs up "Do you have it with you?"
"Ben has it you got to get it from him."
"Where is he?"
"He's over by the bar with the guy from out front."
"Alright I'll get it from him later."

The sweaty guy from earlier is now standing next to me dancing wildly whipping sweat in all directions. I give a quick look to Sadik and move my way back towards the bar.

I stand next to Hans and say "Well now that I've got my money back I'm going to get out of here. I can't hear anything." Hans agrees and we take off. Waiting for the elevator is a pain and since I hadn't been able to go to the restroom while binging on gin and tonics I have to piss very bad. I wouldn't say I was pee pee dancing but Hans might tell the story differently.

The elevator finally arrives and we ride to the ground floor. I rushed to retrieve my bike and mention that I will stop at the convienant store to use the restroom. Once I'm inside I notice there is no restroom inside. I rush out and point down the street. "To the seven-eleven!"

I race down the road and rush into the seven-eleven. Inside there is a restroom and luckily it's empty. As I take a piss my cigarettes fall onto the ground, but I don't notice until I get outside. A Japanese guy goes into the restroom after me and I walk outdoors to find Hans waiting by the bikes.

"I'm kind of hungry." I said.
"Yeah, me too. Let's get some food."
"Let's go back down to Viento. They have 300 yen pizza."
"Sounds good."

I put my hands in my pockets and realize my cigarettes are missing. I must have dropped them on the street.

"Uh..did you see my cigarettes around here?" scanning the ground.
"No. Why?"
"They were in my pocket and now they are gone."

I start to search the street. I look at Hans and say, "Wait here a second." I ride my bike down the street to the other convienant store but don't see anything. I ride back towards the seven-eleven looking at the ground the whole time. If I dropped them on the street someone might of picked them up I thought. I make it back to Hans and he says, "Check inside. Maybe you dropped them in there." "Good idea." I mention.

In the seven-eleven I see the Japanese guy waiting behind me. He gives me look and says something to the girl he is with. I suddenly think to check the restroom. "Yes." There they are on the floor of the restroom where it looks like someone had stepped on them. I say "Oh well." as I take one out and head outside. I light up. 

"Where were they?" Hans asks.
"On the restroom floor."
He laughs but doesn't say anything.

We stop off by a restaurant on the way home and have a mini pizza, another beer and some water. The pizza is a long french bread style with meat sauce and cheese on top. It doesn't taste particularly good. I remember having a weird buzz as we sat there talking about the night. We both agree that the highlight of our evening was getting our money back. Although I guess it was better than sitting at home and doing nothing.

We ride home and upon arrival I go straight to my room locking the door and going straight for the bed. I lay there thinking how many missed opportunities I had. Girls willing to get on with me but I was too oblivious to their looks and glances. The gaijin, word for foreigner in Japan, can get laid anywhere they said to me once. Unfortunately I have no game, no looks, no confidence. All the things you need to succeed in one night relationships.

I lay in bed and drift off to sleep trying not to kick myself too hard, where I remain until noon the next day.

Singing in a Microphone

Coming home from Sannomiya the man was standing in front of the pillar next to the travelator, also known as a walkalator. That's the term I like the most. A walkalator is a beautiful device that makes you feel as if your floating on air. But I digress...

This my normal route home but this was a special trip because I don't usually go into Sannomiya on Fridays. One the teachers had an emergency and I was covering for her. I went into Sannomiya on Friday to cover her classes while she went back home to Canada to treat her diabetes.

I came down the escalator in front of the McDonald's at Umeda station. I normally make my way from the Hankyu line to the subway through Umeda station. When I walked around the corner to see a man standing next to the walkalator in front of one of the big pillar holding up the whole underground operation. He was standing there with a bag at his feet, ear buds in his ears, sunglasses on his face, holding a microphone. There was no amp and no wire. Just a microphone held out in front of his chest.

At first he was dancing when suddenly he pulled the mic in and began singing a tune right there in front of the hundreds or so people traveling through Umeda station. I stopped to take a look and gazed at him as I made my way onto the walkalator. He stood there unflinching, with no embarrassment just singing his heart out. All we could hear from our position was the acapella version of his Japanese crooner tune. Everyone around me seemed not to notice and just kept moving on with their night.

I've seen things like this before, but usually when people sing on the street or in front of crowds they bring a karaoke machine and sing with the music. Usually young girls hoping to get discovered or build a small fan base. Maybe to earn money or maybe not. I'm unsure of the different motivations people have for performing in public without an instrument or a band.

The man singing next to the walkalator was in a total different reality. He was happy and seemed proud of his ability. I'm not passing judgement on him but just feel like telling the story of him standing there for everyone to enjoy.

My Jordan's

Writing Prompt: Memorable Shoes, Meals, coats or Handbags

The first pair shoes I remember owning where a pair of first edition Nike Air Jordan's. Micheal Jordan's first signature shoe that started the signature shoe craze in the 90's. They were black and red and very stylish for the times. I was just a kid and asked my mom to buy them for me. I don't know why she did, they were expensive. One hundred dollars at that time was a lot of money for shoes, but she bought them for me anyway. She may of had some big dream of me becoming a basketball player and if she bought me these shoes it would come true. I'm not sure that's just speculation.

She bought them for me and the first thing I did when got home was bust out my print film camera. Including some pictures with me beating the Legend of Zelda for NES there was also a collection of photos of the Air Jordan's my mom had bought me. I must of been the happiest boy in the world because I have photos of those shoes from the front, the back, the sides, from the top and bottom. Even took some shots of them on my feet. They were so beautiful that I didn't even want to wear them, but of course I did.

That night I had baseball practice. That's right it was in the summer and I was in a baseball league. So I wore my brand new Micheal Jordan basketball shoes to the park to play baseball. All the other kids on the team were like, "Wow!" But I'm not sure why I didn't own a pair of cleats to play baseball, but anyway it had been raining so the field was all muddy. All I can remember from that time is standing in the batter's box and taking some swings at the ball getting my new Jordan's all muddy. I don't remember if we ran or even did anything else just standing there looking at my feet and fighting the urge to cry because my beautiful shoes were full of mud.

The first thing I did when I got home from baseball practice was to clean my shoes. I got out some brushes and soap and stoop in the sink cleaning those shoes. I cleaned them pretty well but they would never be brand new again. Until my dad came through the door. He look at me and asked me, "What do you have there son?" "There my new shoes mom bought me." "Oh, really." After a short consultation with my mother the next thing I heard was, "They cost how much?!?" And my dad took the shoes from my hand did a nice once over with the brush and put them back in the box and walked out and put them in his car. He came back in and told me he would be taking them back to the store tomorrow. I ask why and of course I already knew. They cost too much. "Shoes shouldn't cost more than twenty dollars." That was his philosophy at the time.

The shoes were gone. And later when we took my film to the drugstore to get it developed there they were in photos. The shoes I had for one day. My Jordan's.