Ichiro Urushibara, while always well-dressed, insists his hobbies have had more to do with how he’s turned out than the apparel hanging from his trim 80-year-old frame.

His love of Big Band music helped him swing his way into becoming one of Japan’s first disc jockeys and radio hosts back in the 1950s. His early interest in Meccano construction sets and building radios eased him into translating and simultaneous interpreting for engineering companies like Toyota, and writing advertising copy for electronics companies such as Pioneer, as well as MC-ing and commentating at various live performances and sports events. Later, a passion for yachting led to his becoming the commodore (that’s “president” to you landlubbers) of the Yokohama Yacht Club for 12 years. Currently, his mania for model railways has his wife worried he’ll run away to become a trolley pusher selling tea and coffee on the Tokyo-Fukuoka shinkansen route.

Besides all this, Urushibara is a one-man refutation of those who misquote Rudyard Kipling’s “East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet” line to suggest a happy conjugation is unachievable. Born in London in 1930, he spent his first 10 years growing up there until World War II forced his family’s return to Japan. Though bilingual now, back then Urushibara didn’t know “any Japanese,” but learned fast in order to survive. Today, he speaks the Queen’s English with a pronunciation so utterly regal, women reflexively curtsey in his presence. When I innocently ask for his opinion on British grub, Urushibara’s cutting diction smites down those who criticize the culinary arts of Old Blighty with all the sound and fury of Charles Laughton’s Henry VIII tearing into chicken legs.

“I think British cooking is the most maligned food in the world!” he roars, eyes blazing and mouth water gurgling in his throat. “People don’t know what they’re talking about. Everybody likes roast beef, don’t they? Well, where does it come from? Have they every tried a Lancashire hotpot? Toad in the hole? Steak and kidney pudding? Irish Stew.” Urushibara chews on the last example a moment, before clarifying matters, then continues: “Kippers, rice pudding, bread and butter pudding.”

Frothing at the mouth now, there’s no stopping him. “I like what some people call overcooked vegetables. They are not overcooked. They are well-cooked!” He says this as smoke pours forth from his nostrils. Unsure if there’s a defibrillator available in the Main Bar (where this culinary defense of the realm is taking place) I decide not to remind him of mince pies, brandy-fired Christmas pud and rhubarb pie with custard, for he may very well go berserk and eat me.

To distract him and prevent the smoke turning on the sprinklers, I order him a beer. My ploy works. Urushibara gurgles it down with gusto and gradually regains his composure, though not before delivering a coup de grace to those misusers of the much quoted Kipling line – he confesses an affinity for the mushy green peas that accompany fish and chips, a gastronomic shibboleth that only English stomachs can appreciatively digest.

Keen to change the subject, I ask about Urushibara’s first job. It came in 1948 when he was 17 years old and went to work for the Civil Censorship Detachment operating under the U.S. Occupation forces. “In those days, publications, films, letters, all could be censored,” Urushibara notes. So he would read newspapers, magazines and books produced in Japanese and mark out sections for the chop that were considered objectionable to the Occupation’s Press Code: criticism of the Allied Powers, communist propaganda, nationalistic propaganda, etc.

Since then Urushibara’s resume has lengthened to include the jobs already noted, while he now works four days a week in Aoba International School doing public relations and liaison work.

He joined the FCCJ in 1964 – three years before Dustin Hoffman graduated from college and discovered plastics. Indeed, Urushibara still has his original membership cards, made out of the finest cardboard of the time; they would probably fetch a fortune should he flog them on eBay.

And what does he like about the Club? “It’s a nice place,” Urushibara says, after considering the question. Then he warms up. “I know many members, so when I come on my own (his wife is also a member) there is usually someone I recognize and can talk with. It’s more than just a place to eat and drink; it’s also a place to meet people and talk.”

On the downside side, with the exception of scotch-and-soda, he finds most everything else on the menu expensive, given the deflationary times we live in. “Still, the quality of the food is not bad,” Urushibara adds.

But I don’t want him getting started on food again, and hurriedly take my leave. ❶

John Boyd covers technology and business news and events in Japan and Asia and strings for several magazines, including IEEE Spectrum, FPD Today and New York Stock Exchange Magazine. He welcomes new assignment queries: boyd@gol.com.