“Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.” - Patrick Rothfuss, The Name Of The Wind
Last year ...
A pleasant summer breeze rolls through the early evening of the streets of San Francisco, billowing the clothing of the dancers flowing down the street. The celebrants are wearing everything from traditional yukata, to simple shorts. Experienced artisans move in synchrony down the center lane, and they have been joined by many other smiling citizens of various levels of ability. Children run in and out of the dancing, joining in, playing, getting distracted and leaving. Rather than being disruptive, they add to the festival atmosphere, welcoming all to come and celebrate.
The steady beat of drums sets the rhythm of the music, the deep thrum connecting the crowd, hastening the heart, and boosting the mood. Hired performers are spread throughout Japantown, their performances varied and educational. Between performances, they invite volunteers to come up and (carefully) try it out themselves.
San Francisco is a varied and cosmopolitan place. The 2010 census calculated that 36% of the population wasn't even born in the United States. The street tonight reflects that fact. People of every nation, creed, tongue, or people can be seen and heard. All pouring out into the street to join this celebration of life, light, and culture. From those of Japanese descent here to honor the memory and sacrifice of their ancestors, to proponents of art and music, to anime fans, to merchants looking to do business, to random passersby that are simply taking in the sight.
The night is young, and the day is far from over ...
Rule Number 12: "A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head."