I was reminded why I travel on a recent trip to Fukuoka, Japan, that is as much for the small unexpecteds as what the brochure racks plug. A gruesome statue straddling the brother townships of Hakata and Tenjin was the give-away. Just shy of the sidewalk and under an eyebrow ridge of street-level architecture (a building), it was both a Madame Toussaud throw-away and Godfather of Soul, James Brown. I studdered in step before a long second look. 

The bar is Goodies, a 30-year-old basement-level house of funk, soul and R&B run by fan and founder Goodie Kitahara. Actually house needs some correction. It’s a cramped bachelor, an abbreviated room and Goodie the only possible employee given the size. On the two occasions I visited, there were never more than 10 patrons at a time though it could seat 20 with rubbed elbows. The basement door was locked the afternoon I first happened by, but a day later and two beers into an evening I considered ending early, I re-passed Toussaud Brown and decided to tumble down. 

Cluttered would be offensive. It’s enthused to the seams. CDs and signatures mark the ceiling while one-sheets, concert ads and figurines cake the rest. Goodies is the comic-book shop of watering holes, where surfaces exist only to be covered by their tributes. In this case, it’s to predominantly black musicians: Brown, Wonder, the Nevilles, Gaye and artists whose acclaim leave me clueless and curious. A meaty collection of LPs supply sounds for the drink, bottled and displayed behind the bar under blue light. The company was as satisfying. Goodie is a worldly host (as evidenced on his walls with encounters with Will Smith, Jamie Foxx and Brown himself) who speaks English and music. He engages easily. One advantage to traveling alone is that you speak to those you don’t know, “Making memory,” in the words of customer Matsuda. He was one of half a dozen Japanese men I talked to during my hours there, feeling good.