Of all the stories I read about U.S. Sen. Daniel Inouye’s passing, most intriguing was one that appeared on the DCist website under the headline "Late Sen. Daniel Inouye Was the Biggest Punk in Congress."
The website noted that Inouye’s son, Kenny, was the guitarist in one of Washington’s most influential 1980s punk bands, Marginal Man, and the proud senator/dad would often be seen in the audience at clubs the band played.
Another website, BuzzFeed, said Inouye was a part-owner of Marginal Man’s record label and recalled his 1984 visit to the legendary 9:30 Club to watch the band perform with other hard-core rock groups.
"Inouye, ever the defender of fairness and equality, refused to cut the line, opting to stand in the cold with the assorted skinheads, dreds and other punk rock kids until the doors of the club opened," the website said.
Inouye’s open mind, humanity and ability to surprise were at the heart of the charm that gave him such broad appeal across diverse communities.
Another of the senator’s musical surprisestouched me personally years later.
He was the honoree at the local dinner of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society and offered warm encouragement to his fellow disabled persons in the audience.
Inouye spoke about the rehabilitation center where he spent a year after losing his right arm in World War II, and how every patient was required to learn a tune on a musical instrument.
He couldn’t get a one-handed grip on the saxophone he’d played before joining the Army, so he took up the piano.
Inouye went to the piano onstage and played a robust five-fingered rendition of "Danny Boy."
It was the only speech by a politician that ever left a lump in my throat or inspired me to positive action.
By then my left hand had become too weak from multiple sclerosis to play my guitar.
I never played well, but it was my form of meditation and I missed it; nothing soothed trouble in themind like playing long runs of slow blues triplets.
After hearing Inouye, I was determined to find an instrument I could play with one hand, and settled on the harmonica becauseIlikedSonny Terry’s sound.
I’ve been at it for several years now, and while I haven’t mastered any songs and would be lost in a band, I can play my runs of slow blues triplets all night long.
Recently I was noodling on my harmonica on the sidewalk outside of a Waikiki restaurant while waiting for a table,and a lady passing by gave me a dollar.
It’s only right I send that dollar and a few more to the Senator Daniel K. Inouye Memorial Fund at Hawaii Community Foundation.
———
Reach David Shapiro at volcanicash@gmail.com or blog.volcanicash.net.
