Jiro Dreams of Sushi - Inspiring!

This morning while I was flipping through Netflix options I stumbled upon a documentary from 2011 entitled, "Juro Dreams of Sushi."

I couldn't have found a better choice to glide and bike with. I never heard of it; it certainly did not play at my local theatre, and maybe if I didn't like sushi I wouldn't have loaded it, but luckily I did. What an inspiring film!

According to the website, it's "the story of 85 year old Jiro Ono, considered by many to be the world’s greatest sushi chef. He is the proprietor of Sukiyabashi Jiro, a 10-seat, sushi-only restaurant inauspiciously located in a Tokyo subway station. Despite its humble appearances, it is the first restaurant of its kind to be awarded a prestigious three-star Michelin Guide rating, and sushi lovers from around the globe make repeated pilgrimage, calling months in advance and shelling out top dollar for a coveted seat at Jiro’s sushi bar."

The film is way more than sushi,  very "Zen-inducing." Sprinkled with quotes from Jiro, you can't help but admire his ambition, determination, skill, humiliation, and wisdom. He's the youngest 85 year old I've ever encountered. I highly recommend this film. Even if you don't like sushi, you might just love this film.



Here's a couple of quotes...

"Once you decide on your occupation... you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That's the secret of success... and is the key to being regarded honorably."

"I do the same thing over and over, improving bit by bit. There is always a yearning to achieve more. I'll continue to climb, trying to reach the top, but no one knows where the top is."

"When I was in first grade, I was told "You have no home to go back to. That's why you have to work hard." I knew that I was on my own. And I didn't want to have to sleep at the temple or under a bridge so I had to work just to survive. That has never left me. I worked even if the boss kicked or slapped me. Nowadays, parents tell their children, "You can return if it doesn't work out." When parents say stupid things like that, the kids turn out to be failures."

"When I was in school... I was a bad kid. Later, when I was invited to give a talk at the school, I wasn't sure if I should tell the kids that they should study hard... or that it is okay to be a rebel. I wasn't sure what advice to give the kids. Studying hard doesn't guarantee you will become a respectable person. Even if you're a bad kid... there are people like me who change. I thought that would be a good lesson to teach. But if I said that bad kids can succeed later on like I did... all the kids would start misbehaving which would be a problem. Always doing what you are told doesn't mean you'll succeed in life."

"I've never once hated this job. I fell in love with my work and gave my life to it. Even though I'm eighty five years old, I don't feel like retiring. That's how I feel."

Are you doing what you love? Did you give your life to it? Would you, at 85 years old, love what you're doing so much you would not feel like retiring?

Hmmm, I have to do some thinking...

Secretariat

On Sunday the girl and I saw Secretariat. It was probably the best film I saw all year. Even the girl was glad I talked her into going. Now, I may be jaded because "Big Red" (that's Secretariat to you) has always held a special place in my heart.

My grandmother was a big time horse bettor. I mean big time. Every single day she would be found at Aqueduct, Belmont and when the ponies went upstate, Saratoga. When she would come over to our house she would always regal me with stories of how she came *this close* to the triple or how her jockey Angel Cordero fared that day. He could go from swell one day to a lousy piece of crap the next. She would act out her day for me, prancing around the living room with delighted screams and disgusted curses. She'd give me tips. "Never bet on a horse that takes a dump on the track. He's nervous. Never sit in the grandstand with all the riff-raff. You go for the extra couple of bucks and stay in the Clubhouse!" My mother would roll her eyes but I hung on her every word.

When Secretariat came to Belmont for the last leg of the triple crown in 1973 my grandmother was at the track. I wasn't there but I do remember watching the race on television. The whole Brooklyn neighborhood was abuzz over the horse of the year. I was particularly enthralled with him because my grandma had built him up like some superstar. We all rooted for him and when he won the whole block exploded with celebration. You would think the horse came from Bensonhurst instead of Virginia. By the way my grandmother didn't bet on him for two reasons -- he was the favorite so the payoff wouldn't be big and she couldn't stand his jockey, Ron Turcotte, aka that lousy French bastard, according to her.

Anyway, the movie itself was very inspirational. And not just because of the spectacular horse. I really related to his owner, Penny. When she took over her father's estate in the late 60's she had to put up with a lot of crap, what with being a woman and, gasp, a mere housewife. She never kowtowed to any of the men who tried to knock her down a peg. She stood her ground and she did what she felt was best. She took chances and wasn't afraid to fail. With no help from her husband or brother, she broke through the old-boys club. Secretariat wasn't the only winner. She was too. She reminded me of my grandmother, not the looks but her tenacity. During the 60's, betting at the horsetrack was a "man's sport" but my grandmother broke through. Not only did she hold her own and do well enough that she was able to go daily, but she was respected and yes, with her mouth, probably even feared.

There were quite a few memorable lines in the movie which I've already forgotten, but there was one that jolted me. It was something to the effect "in order to know how far you can go you have to run" or something similar. I might have garbled the words, but the message is clear. You'll never know what you can accomplish if you don't make an attempt. Even if you think you "failed" you probably really haven't since you've already gone further than you did if you hadn't tried. Excuse me now, I have a book I must finish editing...