Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a violin maker in Amagasaki is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I woke up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First off, I hit up the local market on Hoshikawa Street. You know, the one with all the fresh fish and veggies? I’m there, minding my own biz, when I spot this old dude trying to haggle over a fish. Like, c’mon man, it’s a fish, not a rare Stradivarius! I’m chuckling to myself, but then he turns and gives me this look. I swear, it was like he was judging my life choices. I mean, I’m a violin maker, not a fishmonger!
Anyway, I grab some fresh daikon and head back to my workshop on Nishikujō. It’s a cozy little spot, filled with wood shavings and the sweet smell of varnish. I’m all set to work on this custom violin for a kid named Taro. He’s a prodigy, or so they say. I’m excited, right? But then, bam! My tools go missing. Like, poof! I’m searching everywhere. Under the workbench, in the drawer, even in the fridge (don’t ask).
Finally, I find my chisels in the most ridiculous place—inside a box of old strings. I mean, who puts tools in a box of strings? I’m losing it. I’m like, “C’mon, brain, get it together!”
So, I start working on Taro’s violin. It’s coming along nicely, but then I hear this loud noise outside. I peek out the window on Kōen Street, and there’s a parade! A freakin’ parade! I’m thinking, “What’s the occasion?” Turns out, it’s some local festival. People are dancing, music blasting, and I’m stuck inside with wood and glue. I’m torn, man. Do I join the fun or finish this violin?
I decide to take a break. I grab my jacket and head out. The vibe is electric! I’m dancing like a fool, and honestly, it feels good to let loose. I even bump into an old friend, Kenji. We used to jam together back in the day. He’s like, “Dude, you still making those fiddles?” I’m like, “Yeah, but they’re not as fun as this!”
After a while, I’m back in the workshop, feeling all inspired. I’m carving the scroll, and it’s looking dope. But then, I get a call. It’s Taro’s mom. She’s like, “Uh, we need the violin by tomorrow.” I’m like, “What?!” Panic mode activated. I’m sweating bullets.
I work through the night, fueled by coffee and sheer determination. I’m almost done when I realize I forgot to put the chin rest on. I’m like, “Noooo!” I’m racing against time, cursing under my breath.
Finally, I finish just as the sun’s coming up. I’m exhausted but proud. I can’t wait to see Taro’s face when he plays it. I pack it up and head to the school.
When I get there, Taro’s waiting. He opens the case, and his eyes light up. I’m like, “See? It’s all yours!” He plays a few notes, and it’s magical. I’m grinning like an idiot. All the stress, the craziness—it was worth it.
As I walk back home, I think about Amagasaki. The streets, the people, the chaos. It’s wild, but it’s home. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. What a day, huh?