No.0137：My Love Affair with the Classics ー Jeans, Ramen, The Beatles, and Me
April 29,2025
When I was about 15 or 16 years old, I remember being completely captivated by the Levi's jeans, named with three-digit numbers like 501, while flipping through a brochure I had picked up at a clothing store. At the time, young men with long hair, clad in tastefully faded denim and adorned with expensive Native American jewelry on their chests and fingers, were everywhere in youth magazines like Hot Dog. In the countryside where I lived, treasures like those featured in the magazines were rare sights. That's why I used those magazines as textbooks, studying in advance where and how much I could get them. Whenever I had the chance to visit the city for a mock university entrance exam, I shopped with excitement and anticipation. It's a memory I look back on fondly. Thirty-five years have passed since then. Levi's is still going strong today, and now, as an adult, I find myself indulging in the luxury of buying reissues of vintage models that were too expensive for me back then.
Truly good things continue to be loved over a long time. Although the details adjust little by little to each era, the fundamental style remains just as wonderful as it was back then. This idea doesn't apply only to jeans ー it holds true for many cultural artifacts like music, books, and food. Anything that has survived the test of time, loved and sometimes criticized by people, has a good reason for its endurance. So, while it's fine to jump on the latest trends, I place greater value on choosing these "classics." They allow me to encounter wonderful things more efficiently and with minimal regrets. Today, I'd like to talk about these "classics."
First, let me start with food. There's a legendary ramen shop my parents used to take me to when I was in elementary school: Umenoya in Futtsu City, Chiba Prefecture. Back then, it was incredibly inexpensive, yet generously topped with char siu pork, earning it almost sacred status among us. The noodles were, surprisingly, dried noodles. Some people even mocked it as "just instant ramen." But to me, that made it even better ー the rich broth soaked deeply into the noodles, making it irresistibly delicious. As if even her plain, oversized cardigan felt like a quiet gesture of tenderness ー something she picked out just for me. Even now, whenever I visit my hometown, I make sure to stop by and take a nostalgic time trip to that good old era. Although, sadly, the prices have more than doubled since those days.
Next, for the "classics" in music ー of course, it's The Beatles. They had already broken up before I was born, yet their music has stayed with me ever since I was about twenty. Countless songs have saved me during hard times. "Here Comes the Sun," "Nowhere Man," "Now and Then"… I could go on forever. In their early days, they were adored as pop idols, but they grew tired of the superficial attention. They let their hair and beards grow wildly, shedding their polished appearances and diving deep into their music and inner thoughts instead. I love that attitude. It's like how seasoned system engineers quietly scorn loud, flashy project managers who show off only during release ceremonies but crumble under real crises like system failures.
Then there's the "classic" in books: the management scholar Peter Drucker. He's someone who changed my life profoundly. As a young system engineer, I was deeply fascinated by technology, yet utterly indifferent to management and business. IT is supposed to be a tool for business, but back then, I could only see IT for IT's sake. I realized that if I kept going like that, I'd end up as a narrow-minded technician, easily exploited and undervalued. In my desperate attempt to broaden my horizons, I devoured Drucker's works. One idea in particular struck a deep chord with me:
Decisions should be based on what is right, not who is right.
For someone like me, who had always felt strong disgust toward people who were more concerned with "who" to follow to stay safe rather than "what" was right, this statement was like salvation. It was the same kind of exhilarating feeling you get when you hesitate to shout "The Emperor has no clothes!" but someone next to you shouts it out loud without a second thought.
These are the "classics" that shaped me. It might be presumptuous of me to think this way, but someday, I would like to become a "classic" myself. A person who captivates customers, earns their repeat business and referrals, and continues to be quietly but deeply loved over a long time. That's why I keep striving ー
so that someday people will think, "If we follow Jibiki's way, we'll be alright."
The purpose of a business is to create customers.
Peter Ferdinand Drucker
