Tag: Tokyo

On a Bellboy’s Tip

Tipping is always a minefield for me. Staying in Europe for a bit, the system of when, where, and how much to tip is vastly different from that in the United States. But when it comes to dealing with hotel staff members, I’m more than happy to show my appreciation for assistance and knowledge. On the other hand, these days, I don’t usually carry cash with me, and, instead, I rely on the touchless pay systems of my mobile phone. Other travelers throughout history have encountered similar potentially awkward situations of not having ready cash to tip staff when a service is rendered.

Take the case of Al.

Al was born in Germany in 1879 and had become a academician and professor. His research and work had gained a reputation, and, because of this, he was traveling in Japan an speaking at some universities on his specialty subject in early November, 1922. He and his wife were staying at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo while his lectures were going on at the nearby national university. The couple were in the lobby, enjoying a drink, when a bellboy at the establishment came up to him and handed him a telegram. We aren’t sure that Al didn’t have change–some versions of this story say that the bellboy refused a tip in the first place–but for whatever reason, the young man didn’t receive money for his service to Al and his wife.

Looking around, Al saw some Imperial Hotel stationery sitting on a nearby table. Taking a fountain pen from his coat pocket, he grabbed two sheets of the stationery and scribbled two notes and gave them to the bellboy. The first note read, in German, “A calm and modest life brings more happiness than the pursuit of success combined with constant restlessness.” The second note said, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” And then Al signed and dated both notes.

The bellboy looked somewhat confused. It’s unclear if the young man knew who Al was at the time, in fact, and that means that we can understand his confusion. It seems that Al sensed the bellboy’s hesitation at receiving the notes, so he tried to explain to him. “You keep those,” Al told him. One day, he said, you can sell those notes and they’ll be worth more money than any tip I could give you as a tip today.

Fast-forward to 2017, a full 95 years after Al gave the bellboy the pair of notes as a tip. At an auction in Jerusalem, the first note was sold to a private European collector for $1,560,000. The second, shorter one, sold for almost $250,000. Turns out that Al was right. The notes were worth more than any tip he could have given the bellboy. Interestingly, the notes had been passed down from the bellboy to his grand nephew, who was by then living in Germany. Who was this man whose autograph and handwriting could bring so much money at auction?

Seems that besides knowing about physics, Albert Einstein knew a little something about the value of autographs as well.

On A Game Inventor

Satoshi Tajiri might be a recognized name to some since he invented one of the if not the most successful game franchises in history. Born in 1965 in Tokyo, as a boy he loved going into the country and exploring nature–a rather interesting thing considering that many kids from Tokyo don’t usually go into nature. But these jaunts into the countryside spurred something in Tajiri that led to his creation.

Tajiri’s interest in nature led his parents to leave the urban jungle of Tokyo proper and move to a greener suburb so that he could pursue his nature interest. His parents also knew that the suburbs were much healthier for the family. It was there that the young man became somewhat of an amateur entomologist. In fact, entomology was his dream area of study when he grew up, he said. His friends in the neighborhood and at school nicknamed him “Dr. Bug” (Dokutā bagu, ドクター・バグ), and his insect collection soon overwhelmed his bedroom at the family’s suburban home. His mother despaired of him because he would come home with his pants and coat pockets bulging with samples and creatures. She always did the washing very carefully, she later said, because she didn’t know what she might find in his pockets.

However, as Tajiri grew, so did the suburbs. Urban sprawl began to creep in. The insect habitat disappeared, and, with it, Tajiri’s ability to study bugs. That’s when the now-teenager turned his attention to video games. Arcades were only then coming into popularity and the first primitive home computer video game systems were making their way to the market. And Tajiri pursued knowledge of video games with the same passion that he’s pursued bugs when he was younger. He loved the game Space Invaders. The young man decided to create a Space Invaders clone game as well. He also enjoyed the game Dig Dug, a rather simple game with repetitive motion. His interest in games led him to skip school too often, so often in fact that he had to get the Japanese equivalent of a GED. Instead of entomology at university, Tajiri decided to get a 2-year technical degree that would teach him how to better build video games.

In an effort to share his rapidly increasing knowledge of video games to an eager market, Tajiri wrote and produced a video game magazine called Game Freak in 1981. In the editions of the magazine, he shared game tips, easter eggs, and even taught readers how to code their own games if they so chose. He collaborated with an artist who illustrated his stories and columns. Game Freak soon became a success, so much so that it allowed him and his small staff enough income to begin to branch out into the actual creation of video games. Tajiri realized that most video games were lacking in quality and in the ability for gamers to share their experience.

That belief in shared video experience led Satoshi Tajiri back to his first love, bugs. Taking two Nintendo Game Boys, Tajiri connected the two hand-held devices and created a way to swap characters he and his magazine illustrator created, basically allowing games to collect characters they liked. He presented his collaborative idea to Nintendo, but the company didn’t quite understand how gamers would accept the idea of collaborating and swapping characters. However, they were impressed with Tajiri’s passion, and they decided to invest in him. And the result, as I said, is one of the most lucrative game concepts ever created; it made the company billions and made Tajiri a multi-millionaire.

And to think that swapping tiny game characters all began with a little boy going bug hunting back in the Tokyo suburbs. Those pants that he brought home filled with bugs, the little “surprises” his mother used to find in the pockets when she washed his clothes, those were the inspiration. Tajiri’s mom called them “pocket monsters.”

We call them Pokémon.