Impolite Primates

Recently I joined some friends for a mini-hike to see this:

But on the way, we encountered this:

Guess which one I was more excited about. Oh, and those flowers are not meant to be an offering to the monkeys, nor to be eaten. How rude.

Travelin', man

Please forgive my lack of posts of late. Been busy. Went to a wedding reception in Hiroshima. Slept in a capsule hotel for the first time. Saw monkeys doing crazy things and being chased away with a squirt gun. Spent too much time on the bullet train. Too much money, too. Continued to push the limits of how messy one apartment can be. And now, when I should be packing for America, I am sitting here at my computer writing this.... Yeah, I gotta go. But stay tuned for a plethora of pictures after the new year!

Peeping Polar Bears

Peeping Polar Bears, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

What is this bear looking at?

Meri Kurisumasu Eburiwan!

Just What the Doctor Ordered(?)

Just What the Doctor Ordered(?), originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Anybody Hungry?

Anybody Hungry?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Baseball Hardcore

Baseball Hardcore, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

This sign, an advertisement for a DVD commemorating the 70th anniversary of the Hanshin Tigers, hangs proudly and conspicuously on the train. It literally reads: "We cried. We shouted. We laughed. We got drunk.

Hole in the Ground

Hole in the Ground, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

For those of you who don't know, this is what an Eastern toilet looks like. Built for squatting, not sitting. It is, I suppose slightly more sanitary than the Western variety, but that is about the only good thing I have to say about it. Pretty tough to do any reading when you are busy just trying to make sure you are properly positioned so that you don't miss the hole, or worse, fall in. Not that I have ever been much of a toilet reader. Yes, clearly you needed to know that about me.

Another startling toilet discovery in Asia is this: You had better bring your own toilet paper. Chances are you won't find any when you get to your destination, if it is a public toilet. In some places there are vending machines that will sell you a small packet of tissues. If you happen to be carrying the correct change and are not in a hurry to relieve yourself, this is your best option. You can imagine the profit margin per packet is sizeable, given the supply and demand ratio. Good-hearted fellow toilet-users will leave behind their unused tissues for the next person. If you are lucky, you might find a spare square. Best not to gamble and arm yourself with your own.

Once you have done your business and are ready to do like mom always told you and wash your hands, you are very likely to encounter another problem: no soap. Could there be a connection between this and the custom of bowing rather than shaking hands? Could be. So taking your own soap would be a good idea, but then once you have carefully washed your hands, you probably won't find a hand dryer or paper towel. So you can shake and wipe your hands on your pants, or carry your own towel. An alternative is to carry hand cleanser that evaporates and doesn't require water. I lived in Taiwan during the SARS scare, and though I refused to wear a surgical mask on my face, I did take the advice of the health authorities to wash my hands often. I always had my trusty hand cleanser with me, and would casually use it whenever I thought of it, not wanting to get some mysterious disease that was killing people and causing widespread panic. Yeah, that was fun.

Anyway here is a recap of things you will need in case you ever use an eastern public toilet:

1) Good balance
2) Toilet Paper
3) Soap
4) A Towel
5) A Good Attitude
6) A Sense of Adventure

Four through six are optional, but very helpful and highly recommended. Happy trails!

$30 Well Spent

I don't think I have ever had so many complete strangers ask to have their photo taken with me. This is an example, and the stranger was kind enough to e-mail it to me.

And thus we have the fifth installment in the afro series. Just as the Star Spangled Banner may have lost me the costume contest, my obsession with afro pictures may lose me my readership. There are more to come, I reckon, if Ayumi ever e-mails them to me! Oi! And speaking of losing things, I also lost my plastic crown. I think someone just plucked it off my head, perhaps drunkenly hoping it was the real thing. I hope s/he tried to smoke it. Instant karma, baby.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween！, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

I was a finalist in the costume contest, but I think singing the Star Spangled Banner may have ensured my ultimate defeat. Lots of rowdy Europeans in the audience voiced their vehement disapproval. They won't soon forget me, however.

Wonder Afro Part 3

Wonder Afro Part 3, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Me in 25 years?

Me in 25 years?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

After all, it seems I am getting more and more Asian all the time....

My hair makes me strong

A Modern-day Samson?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

But the foam cushion underneath it just makes me hot.

Another Day, Another Link

It has only been about two hours since my last post, but technically it is a new day. Here is a bluegrass interpretation of Radiohead in medley form, on a page with some other interesting stuff as well. The medley is called "Rodeohead," and the people responsible for that are the very same who blessed us with the contents of yesterday's post; they call themselves "Hard n' Phirm". Unfortunately this link is not in video form, but if you know Radiohead (who I saw live in Japan in April 2004) at all and have not heard this (it is apparently more than a year old), it is worth the while, I reckon. Click on the title of this post if you feel you are qualified.

Pi in Your Face

Thanks to ldmiller for his exciting links in the comments of my last post. I recommend the "Baby Got Back" link with gusto. In fact, the page it comes from seems to hold many more pearls for those willing to click and investigate. Click and investigate the title of this post if you are such a person, or if you are kind of a geek, or both.

How to Learn Japanese

How to Learn Japanese, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Nice that this is the mnemonic device one author chose for this character. Add this to the character for "person" and you get "foreigner". Hey, that's me!

Greetings!

Just experimenting with something new. I don't have a clue what I'm doing so I have to work by trial and error. Still attempting to get video onto this blog as well. No promises, people.

Is this spider smiling?

Is this spider smiling?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Right outside the high school where I teach there are a bunch of these. They are big and their webs are massive. I have yet to inquire as to whether or not they pose any danger. They don't look very nice, though.

Food for Thought

Food for Thought, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

This is why I live here

This is why I live here, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

I was walking home this afternoon and stopped to take a picture. Before I knew it I was being asked if I would like to participate. I declined, and was then asked if I would like to have my picture taken. Nice people. I say "this is why I live here" because of the kindness of the Japanese people in general, and because the culture here is just so different than my own and therefore always interesting. I think that's a good thing.

Flowers on the Ground

Flowers on the Ground, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

I saw this while walking home tonight. Kind of speaks for itself, I guess. Ouch.

The NHK Man

The NHK Man, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

This morning my doorbell rang at about 9 a.m. Not particularly early, I suppose, except that I had trouble sleeping last night and had no intention of getting up before noon. I wasn't feeling that tired, though, so I actually considered answering the door. In the end I just stayed in bed and remained very quiet until whoever it was went away. As a matter of fact, this is my usual response to morning and afternoon callers. Come to think of it, I pretty much don't answer the door unless I know who it is. This is because in my experience in Japan, the person on the other side is usually: 1)(very rare) Someone with a package (in which case I can call and have it delivered later, when I know to expect it); 2) (unfortunately not so rare) Some kind of solicitor (all in Japanese, which makes it even more fun); 3) Jehovah's Witnesses; or 4) (more than once a month, I am pretty sure) The NHK Man.

In Japan, NHK is a public broadcasting network that is funded by the government and money collected from viewers. In order to collect this money, they go door to door. It goes something like this (except in Japanese):

Ding Dong.

"Yes."

"Hello, I am from NHK."

"Oh hello. Whatever it is, I am not interested. Thank you."

"Oh I see. Excuse me, but I am from NHK."

"Yes, you said that. I don't watch NHK. Have a nice day."

"But I am from NHK. You have a TV, right?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Then by Japanese law you are required to pay for NHK broadcasting services. Let's see, that will be, $20."

"I don't watch NHK. I watch DVDs and CNN. Thanks anyway."

"I see. But Japanese law...."

"Sorry, my Japanese still isn't very good, so I will have to talk to someone about it. Have a nice day."

"Oh, I see. I happen to have this pamphlet in ENGLISH that explains that by Japanese law you are required to pay for NHK broadcasting services."

"Oh, thank you. I will be sure to read it. I am a bit busy now. Thank you for your time."

"You are busy? Oh, I am very sorry to bother you. I will come back again soon. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

"Uh...."

"2:30?"

"I will probably be home then."

"OK. Thank you very much."

These people are rather persistent. It is almost impossible to have a short conversation with them. And they are very good at making you feel guilty about not paying, even if you detest the system. Japanese people I talk to say that it is actually NOT required by law to pay the NHK man, and that the reason the NHK man is so hard to get rid of is that he gets paid more if you pay. So I have had a few conversations with the NHK man, various salespeople, and Jehovah's Witnesses. (I even told them in Japanese how my theology was fundamentally incompatible with theirs and that they should think about that. The next day an English-speaking Jehovah's Witness came. I told him too.) My conclusion is that I would just as soon not bother answering the door. So I don't, usually.

It also helps that there is a video camera above my door that allows me to see who is ringing the doorbell. It is pretty pathetic how I try to be completely still and quiet so they will go away, but I try to think of it as kind of a game. Once the NHK man came and was for some reason convinced that I was home, and simply would not go away. He rang the doorbell for, seriously, at least three minutes. He knocked on the door. He waited. He rang the doorbell again. I was in the other room, being silent, waiting for him to go away. I heard nothing, but still I waited. Then the mail slot opened, but did not close. I took a peak from a corner where I could see without being seen. The NHK man was looking into my apartment through the mail slot. What did he think he would gain by this? So what if he 'caught' me not answering the doorbell? Is there a law that I have to answer the door? And even if there were, what was HE going to do about it? And if I did finally answer the door after all this, did he think I would want to give him money? Who ARE these people?

What if I had suddenly opened the door and yelled at him and threatened to call the police if he didn't leave?

But I just sat there in silent unbelief.

After all of that, one would think I would absolutely never pay the NHK man, right? But in fact I am not very good at saying no to people who ask me for money. Especially if they can make even the slightest case for why. You see, I have watched NHK now and then, and I appreciate the fact that they have the Japanese news in English sometimes. So maybe I should support them. It is not the company's fault that one of their collectors is a peeping Tomoki. (I don't think it is, anyway.) So ONCE, when the NHK man came, and I was feeling rich and generous and kind and patient, I paid him. I couldn't just ignore the doorbell because I was cooking dinner for a Japanese friend. And I had never discussed with her her position on the NHK man question, so I thought it best just to pay rather than argue with him right in front of her. Also I thought that if I paid him, he might not come back for a while.

Boy was I wrong. It seems that now I am a marked man. I have shown myself to be enough of a sucker to actually pay the NHK man, even if it was just once. Now they have that information in their computer and, what's worse, there is this titanium sticker on my door that WILL NOT come off. Did I say he could put that sticker on my door? I think if I were Japanese it might be fun to sue NHK. But in lieu of that, I will just complain. But one of these days the NHK man is going to come, and I am going to be in the mood for confrontation. I am going to tell him off for being a pesky peeping Tomoki (or for being a colleague of one). I am going to tell him I never asked for that fricking sticker on my door. And I am going to tell him not to come back again unless it is to carefully remove that sticker or to give me back the money that I paid. Then I am going to ask him if he likes his job. Then I am going to ask him if he likes having solicitors come to his door. Then I am going to ask him his address.

OK, maybe not. But what if I did?

Where is my mate?

Where is my mate?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

I went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory this evening, and just before finding out that there were no seats available, I found this shoe on a busy city street. It looked almost new. Who dares submit a hypothetical scenario explaining this photo?

Random Photo #1: Christmas in Seoul, 2004

Stubbornly refusing to let anachronism be an obstacle, I have decided to begin a new series whereby I share some of the photos that have been heretofore neglected. This first installment is making me hungry.

I will try harder, I promise

I have been so busy (lazy?) lately I haven't said much. Just occasional pictures with attempts at witty humor. Well, no promises that that will change anytime soon, but it might. I have elected to spend my ten-day vacation here in Japan, rather than take days off from four other part-time jobs in order to be able to leave the country. Planning to do a lot of cycling and studying and organizing. Maybe I will even blog occasionally. But of course, don't hold your breath.

Meet the Frickers?

Meet the Frickers?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Why don't I live here?

Flat Squirt

Flat Squirt, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

That's what this very popular drink tastes like. Some might say it is in fact aptly named, but I am rather fond of it.

Maybe I look better as a cartoon....

Maybe I look better as a cartoon...., originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

(Courtesy of a distracted student)

The View From Here

The View From Here, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

This is what you see when you look out the window of one of my schools. The students don't get distracted by it, though. They are too busy playing with their mobile phones. (Which is the very thing I was doing when I took this picture....)

Feel like a Jackie snack?

Feel like a Jackie snack?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Whenever I see things like this, my first thought is "Why?" Then I realize that it is one of the many things I love about Asia.

Go Tigers!

Go Tigers!, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Go Tigers!

Because Bunnies Are Cute!

The other day one of my students came to class wearing a Playboy T-shirt. She is 11 years old. Does anyone else find that a little screwed up?

Fuel for In(s)ane Conversation

Useless Trivia, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

This is one of the books I am slowly reading through at the moment. I found it at a Goodwill in Boston. I think it cost 89 cents, minus the student discount. It's written by this pop-culture journalist who decided to read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica, largely to overcome intellectual atrophy. He talks about how it affects and relates to his life, and picks out interesting nuggets to share. Everything from conjoined twins to Descartes' affinity for cross-eyed women. Pretty good stuff.

I started doing the book of the week atop this blog because, well, I wasn't reading enough. This is my small attempt to give myself some accountability in that area. So if I put a book up there, it means I am actually reading it. I owe it all to Harry Potter. Everytime a new one of those comes out I devour it and realize I do in fact have time for reading.

My most famous friends in Japan

My most famous friends in Japan, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

She is a Buddhist priest and he is a sit-down comedian. Here we are dining on the 9th floor the electronics store.

Life's a Beach

Hollywood Stars, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

During my trip I went to beaches in Honolulu, Los Angeles, and Boston. I was alone in Honolulu and too busy playing frisbee in Boston to take pictures. So here's one from L.A., including my happy hosts.

Where's the... What the?

Where's the... What the?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Just enough English to let you know what it is that you can't read!

Back in Japan

Back in Japan, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Another installment of salad art to celebrate my homecoming.

Objection Self-Sustained

Yesterday while crashing a party of advanced law students, I was having a conversation with a nice young lady who has been a judge in South Korea for seven and a half years. She ended our conversation somewhat abruptly with the following comment: "I had better stop talking to you. I just realized I think I'm sexually harrassing you." Uh....

Click Here If You Have Time To Kill

Well, new for me anyway. Be sure to check out "Presidential Address". Scary.

Is traveling an acceptable excuse for not posting in two weeks?

As I write this I am up way too early in Los Angeles. Jet lag leftovers. I have been in the U.S. for 5 days now, but still adjusting. Volunteered at the airport in Tokyo to wait a few hours longer. In return I got my ticket changed to first class and spent a day in Honolulu. So now I have a sunburn and too many pairs of pants.

My birthday was two days ago, August 19th. I am 29 now. That means in a year, if I survive that long, the three-decade mark awaits me. Oh my head.

After Honolulu and before L.A. I went to Portland, Oregon. Managed to see a lot of friends and family in the brief time I was there. And I also saw Napoleon Dynamite. I had hardly heard of it before I came over the pond. "Gosh!"

Celebrated my birthday with the purchase of seven pairs of shoes and dinner with good friends. I had a kid's burger and hummus. Oh yeah and I played disc golf and, almost entirely due to an overhand throw which the other players lacked, won by ten strokes. I don't THINK they let me win just because it was my birthday....

What else...? Dr. Sabrina is a good cook and I don't know enough about wine. And Eric has had my copy of "The Catcher in the Rye" for four years. And the agoraphobic lady across the courtyard is looking at me through only a crack in her curtains.

And I watched He-Man and the Masters of the Universe last night. Then I fell asleep on the couch. Before that we went out to some bars, including the Dresden, which is featured in the movie "Swingers". That was wacky. No room to move, just decent cocktails, and "It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that... cling?" Isn't that a Saran Wrap commercial? What is that word supposed to be? Swing? What thing that rhymes with 'thing', when absent, renders "it" meaningless?

Anyway, thanks to all my hosts so far on my American tour. Of course I will be happy to return the favor if you should ever pop over to Japan. I need some grapes. Bye for now.

Peach Prices are the Pits

A friend recently gave me two peaches. I thought that was nice. I ate them. Peaches taste good.

Today I went to the supermarket. They were selling peaches there. 10 peaches in a box, $50. Oh my head.

I need to make sure I say thank you to my peach-giving friend again.

Communicable Paranoia

I guess maybe I should tell about the lady the other day. Unfortunately my command of language is not sufficient to adequately express what took place, but I will try anyway.

So yeah I am a Caucasian living in Japan. I live in a town where there are plenty of others like myself, so it is not unusual to see us out and about. It would be more unusual not to see a foreigner, in fact. There are some small villages in Japan where people are still very surprised and curious when they see a foreigner because it is so very rare. But that is not where I live.

But someone forgot to tell at least one person that, I guess. When I got home the other morning, I was getting my keys out of my bag to open the door to my second-floor apartment when I noticed a women, probably in her mid-60's, blatantly staring at me from the street below. She was carrying a parasol and walking by, but apparently I disrupted her day in quite a radical way, because she could not stop staring. Yes, by the way, I did check to make sure there was nothing particularly strange about my appearance that morning. Nothing. But this woman looked at me with an expression that seemed to combine shock, wonder, disbelief, and, well, fear. It was as if she saw an alien. OK, technically I am an alien, but I am white not green. Anyway, I looked back at her, because I wanted her to know that I knew that she was staring at me so she might realize it and knock it off. No such luck. All the way down the street, about 50 yards or so, she kept turning back and looking, as if trying repeatedly to verify that I wasn't merely a figment of her imagination. If only I could have gotten a picture of the look on her face. Very unsettling.

As I thought about it more, it started to freak me out a bit. You see, I am not a person who believes that reality is only what we see. I think there is a lot going on that I don't see. The thought occurred to me that the woman might not have been reacting to me at all, but something that she was seeing that was near me. Even now as I write it it is giving me the shivers a bit. Recently I have been hearing a lot of stories of strange and unexplained occurrences--ghost stories, angel stories, psychic events, etc. Not long ago I spoke to an acquaintance, call her 'A.' A. has a friend who claims to see spirits and that A. is always being followed/attended by a 'person' that she herself cannot see, who is there to protect her. Also I heard a story from a student about a funeral portrait (a large photo of the face of the deceased which is hung for all to see at the funeral) of a person appearing upside-down within another photo. Weird things about that: The upside-down portrait wasn't actually there when the picture was taken. In fact it didn't even exist yet, because the person in the picture had not yet died. He was in the group photo with everyone else, very alive. He himself saw the mysterious photo later and was very angry at first, thinking it was some kind of sick joke. Then I suppose he must have been a bit frightened. The photo was taken to priests who prayed, performed religious ceremonies over it and such, etc. Anyway, according to my student that man did in fact pass away not long after.

So somehow such stories came back to my mind after I saw the way that woman looked at me. To be honest it scared me a bit. I wonder what she saw.... If this happens again, I think I will try to talk to her. I hope she doesn't run away screaming. Then again at least that would make a good story.

Don't Forget Your Dreams

dream moon monkeys armpit shaving

church easter so many crackers forgot to study hebrew "don't let us lose this feeling"

The above is a portion of the note I wrote to myself on July 26th after a night of unusually vivid dreaming. I wanted it to trigger my memory later so I could write in detail about what I saw with my eyes closed. I love my dreams because they are so wacky but sometimes so real and even mysteriously predictive at times. Unfortunately due to a powerful combination of busy-ness and laziness I can no longer remember what I dreamed and can therefore no longer write about them. But I can write about not writing about them. I just did. What a waste of good material.

Made another beautiful salad today but decided not to post the picture because, well, it is a picture of a salad. People might think I have too much time on my hands.

Tonight I went on a Morrissey buying spree at the used record store. I am of the opinion that Morrissey could sing the ingredients on the shampoo bottle and it would sound good. In fact I would like to hear that. Hmm, maybe I will try it myself tomorrow in the shower. Good thing I don't use Japanese shampoo.

A Little Green Can

A Little Green Can, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

A true friend brought me ten of these from a vending machine in Hiroshima. A long way to carry ten cans of soda! Now if only I had blue raspberry syrup I could relive a cherished college memory....

My Stupid Hobby

My Stupid Hobby, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Well, one of them. I like to make what I perceive to be aesthetically pleasing creations when I go to the salad bar. Then I take a picture before devouring. This is the latest installment.

Pick and Roll: Not Just a Basketball Maneuver

So a lot has happened and thus nothing has been written. A bit ironic, perhaps. Perhaps not. Simply reinforces the relevance of the Dante quote at the top of this page. So much to tell, so much unsaid, and often better left that way. If someone were to feed me dinner and give me a place to sleep, I might be willing to divulge, though I might later regret it. Hmm....

So I was on the train the other day and I noticed a middle-aged Japanese man playing with his hair, a bit excessively. He was very systematic about it. Twirl hair around and around, then untwirl, then smell fingers. Repeat as desired until satisfied. And he did indeed repeat many times.

The final finger smelling move reminded me of a student I once taught in Taiwan. He was 7 years old, and had developed a compulsive habit of putting his hands down his trousers and then not so surreptitiously examining the odor. He thought he was doing it undetected, but the problem was he repeated the process so much that all the students were aware, as was his teacher. Rather awkward, to be honest. What does one say? "Hey, Jimmy, stop putting your hands down your pants and smelling them!" Yeah, right. I attempted to make myself understood with facial expressions and head shaking. It worked for a while, until the next urge hit him. Fortunately I only taught him once a week. Eeeww.

So back to the finger smelling salaryman. After his last cycle of twirl, untwirl, and smell, he moved on to the next act in the show. He began rather conspicuously picking his nose, removing unwanted obtrusions, rolling them around between his thumb and forefinger and inspecting them with great interest, then flicking them onto the floor of the train. He seemed to pay no mind to the people around him, including the stranger sitting in the seat right next to him. This went on until it was time to get off the train, at which point Mr. Hygienically Incorrect appeared to be a completely normal citizen, blending seemlessly with the crowd. One wonders how many hands he shakes each day after completing the twirling, smelling, picking, rolling, and flicking routine. And how many other people who appear to be respectable members of society are engaged in the same sort of dirty practices, though perhaps more clandestinely. Maybe more than anyone wants to admit. After all, upon further reflection I realize that the most shocking elements of his behavior were his disregard for social convention and the frequency with which he performed the acts. The acts themselves are of secondary importance, and actually not so surprising. The real difference is when I pick my nose, I try not to be seen. And I try to minimize the time spent doing it. So in a sense it is actually the man's lack of pretense that offends most. He showed no ettiquette, no concern for social 'rules'. He was a little bit too free, a little bit too unbound. While I deceptively pick my nose when no one is looking, he engages in the act with an almost enviable apathy. Perhaps he is more honest than I. But I have to admit I prefer the tricky pick. I like the social rules that make people like him unusual. I don't think I would want to live in a world full of people who picked and flicked with such reckless abandon as he. But at the same time, while disgusting, it keeps life interesting to occasionally observe such a person.

I believe Gomeiyage has a story that relates to this one on more levels than one. Perhaps he would care to share it?

Pastry Personified

The naked Donut? Well, let me just give everyone a bit of advice: if you have nude pictures of yourself (or I suppose anyone else, for that matter!) on your email account, you may want to consider removing them, or at least be extra careful about security. Otherwise someone may one day see you without your frosting and share the knowledge with your contacts.

Insect Etiquette

The polite cockroaches hide themselves when the lights come on, so as not to offend, and even further, actually use the toilet when they defecate. Unfortunately, they have not yet learned to flush.

Ask me about the naked donut

Jade Cabbage Admirer--Congratulations!!! I am extremely happy for you. I need info on possible dates! Here's to better human blanket memories to be made.

Ask me about the polite cockroaches

I have nothing to say at the moment except that 1) I just burnt my tongue on recycled ravioli and 2) Oh how I detest bureaucracy. But I won't let the man, or the pasta, keep me down.

What are "Underpants Gnomes"?

I have recently become quite busy with a new project, and have as a result had little time or motivation to post. Hopefully that trend will not continue indefinitely. In any case, may the creatures living in the various drawers of your life treat you with kindness.

Everybody Dance Now!

Tonight as I was walking home I noticed that I could read the names of more than half of the Japanese families living in my neighborhood. I was very encouraged by this and I started keeping stats of my hit and miss ratio. This was good, too, because it took my mind off the fact that I really needed a toilet. Unfortunately, as often happens in my little world, my mind was drawn too far astray and as a result so was I. I walked past my street and by the time I realized it, turned around and got the key in the door, I was dancing. Not because I wanted to dance, but because it was necessary to maintain some semblance of sphincter control. Got a little carried away patting myself on the back and almost had to find a dark corner. But fortunately there was a happy ending this time. Perhaps I should hedge my bets and make a note of potential emergency stops en route to my apartment should this ever happen again.... I was never a Boy Scout but I am a fan of the motto, "Be prepared." I think that is the reason why I always have twice as much baggage as I need when I travel. That is until Rome.... Not again. Here I am blabbing on when I should be correcting homework, doing lesson plans, and writing a speech in Japanese. Yeah, the nature of the beast....

A tangent to the already tangential: While whiling the night away in Nagoya last weekend at a karaoke bar, I sang the song that begins with the phrase atop this post. Oh, and I was good too. Well, all things considered. You CAN name that tune, right? "The music is my life!"

The Birds

The garbage truck comes on Monday and Thursday mornings. I like to sleep in on Mondays, so I usually put my garbage out at around 2 in the morning before I go to bed. Last Thursday I received a phone call at 8:30 a.m. from my landlord informing me that some rascally crows had gotten into my garbage. Apparently the sauce I used to marinade the steak I mentioned in an earlier post was of interest to them.

It is a bit embarrassing to see your landlord picking through your garbage with plastic gloves on. Okay, more than a bit. But I had been very careful to cover the trash bags with the net which is intended to prevent scavenging creatures like those bloody crows from having a garbage party. Apparently the scent of my secret sauce was so enticing that the sly black birds went to extra lengths to get to it.

So today, even though it is really my only day to sleep in a little bit during the week, I set my alarm early. Why? So I could take my garbage out just before the truck comes, minimizing and chance of another trash disaster.

Needless to say I am not a fan of our local neighborhood crows' union. Yes, they are smart, they are resourceful, they are tough, and they even know a good sauce when they smell it, but these things only make them more of a nuisance. I wonder what kind of substance I could put in my steak sauce to condition them to stay away? Something that would make them regret ever tasting my trash. After all, if crows are so smart, they must be teachable, right? Like Pavlov's dog....

Ex-Lax? No, that is definitely not a good idea. Sleeping pills? Tums? Hmm...

Treasure Hunting

Why is it that, almost invariably, whenever I set something aside so that I will be "sure to find it" when I need it later, I can't find it when I need it later?

Doing My Part to Keep the Peace

This weekend I didn't do anything exciting. I was a happy homebody. I am not sure, but it may have something to do with the way last weekend went. Or at least Saturday night.

As I was leaving one establishment at closing time, a young man that I had just met that evening was disgruntled because some people (the staff) were being allowed to stay. He spoke of how he intended to voice his consternation through an act of strategic urination, the victim to be: an innocent plant. I convinced him, eventually, that he should refrain and ask politely if he might be allowed back inside only to use the restroom. His demeanor was such that I actually told him to be quiet and let me ask. I know the manager of the place, so if it were just me I am confident I could have happily relieved myself in the appropriate receptacle. Due to prior incidents and verbal exchanges, however, the young man in question was categorically denied reentry. I then found myself talking him out of starting a fight with, well, pretty much anyone who would be willing. More than one person was willing. He was being quite belligerent. Somehow I managed to get him back as far as the plant. I was wondering whether he would revert to plan A, but he seemed to forget all about nature's call when he saw a group of 5 or 6 guys standing around. They all happened to be colored, as he was, and this in his mind meant that they would agree with him about his situation, regardless of the fact that he was talking nonsense. They did not sympathize, but tolerated his ranting until he moved on.

I later met up with one of the gentlemen from that same group, and another young man who was somewhat vertically challenged and had only been in Japan for a few weeks. We were talking and walking, recounting some of the night's events. At one point we passed a Japanese couple. Apparently our number three guy had inadvertently brushed against the young lady. She decided to make an issue out of it, so her Japanese boyfriend started yelling at the three of us in Japanese. Two of us could understand; but the person in question could not. He simply apologized repeatedly, though he knew he had done nothing wrong. I finally started translating everything back and forth, while simultaneously giving advice about what to say to the young and confused foreigner. At this point the apparently irate Japanese boyfriend admitted that he had no idea whether anything had happened or not, but that the girl had said she was touched and that was unacceptable. I said it was certainly unintentional and apologized humbly on behalf of the young man in question (though in my mind I was saying something else altogether). This was not enough, apparently. We were at a loss as to what else we were expected to do, since we had already apologized profusely for something that had not even happened, essentially. Once again I apologized and explained that the young man could not speak Japanese but that he was genuinely sorry for the misunderstanding and meant no offense. Then the boyfriend came up with a new way to try to show his girlfriend what a great catch he was. (This entire episode, after all, was obviously her attempt to test and manipulate him, and his attempt to earn her affections by defending her 'honor'.) He said, in Japanese, "I can understand English perfectly, so that's not a problem." My friend and I translated this and, appearing a bit relieved, the accused apologized and tried to explain himself in very simple English. The boyfriend had absolutely no idea what he was saying except for "I'm sorry", but feigned comprehension. He was showing no sign of letting up, and the girlfriend was doing her best to act angry (pretty convincing, actually). He then called some names and made some more belittling and slightly racist statements. Then he asked, "Are you drunk?" in Japanese. I don't know why, but our little friend understood this Japanese and began to say no. I stopped him immediately and said, "Yes, he is VERY drunk. He had way too much to drink. He is a weak drinker and he can't even walk straight and we were just making sure he got home O.K." or something to that effect. I told him with my eyes to play along. He did. The boyfriend immediately turned, said something under his breath and walked away. We did the same.

Analysis: The boyfriend wanted to prove himself to his(?) girl. She wanted to test him and also see how much control she could exert over him. He did not want to fight, but he had to appear that he was willing to fight for her if necessary. There were three of us. It would have been a lost cause. He knew this and so did we. But, because of our experience in Japan, and because it is almost never worth it to get into physical confrontation if it can be avoided, we took the path that allowed the boyfriend to save face. By saying our friend was extremely drunk, we gave the boyfriend the opportunity to get in the last word but also to walk away, since a drunk man in Japan is not considered completely accountable for his actions. I don't know if the girlfriend was satisfied, and I don't care.

For the following thirty minutes we tried to explain what had just happened to our friend. Of course he was bewildered and angry, and for a while was becoming increasingly so. I can't say that I blame him too much. It was nothing personal but it would upset anyone. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dare I say, though, that on this night he was with the right people? I would like to think so.

This was one example of my cultural understanding being enough to prove helpful in a difficult situation. Stay tuned for a rather frustrating anecdote about how being misunderstood created a very difficult and in fact, irredeemable, situation where one did not before exist. Some people!!!

Expo Exposed

Today I am enjoying a rare Saturday off. So what will I do, besides this? Laundry, dishes, and deskwork. But at least I can do it at a leisurely pace. It is conceivable that at some point I will get crazy and go to the supermarket....

Recently I went to the world expo in Aichi, Japan, near the city of Nagoya. The venue as a whole was beautiful, especially at night. But some of the main attractions were so ridiculous that I found it hard to believe. They weren't at all entertaining per se, but their very ridiculousness was. Two examples. First I stood in line for 35 minutes to experience "Wonder Circus", which turned out to be a children's ride with cheap props and scenes to look at on the way. Unless you had a small child with you who might actually be able to enjoy it, it was absolutely horrible. And most people did not have children along. Two redeeming features: 1) Your picture was taken and then later displayed as your cart passed in front of a viewing screen. That appealed to the narcissist in me. 2) The carts (think very slow indoor roller coaster) could each turn on the track so that sometimes your cart was facing backwards or to the right or left. But beyond that, it was amazing that it could be so boring. On weekends people wait for well over an hour to experience this "wonder", which lasts maybe five minutes.

The second example is a 3D theater feature sponsored by JR Railways. They gave me glasses as I walked in and the whole bit. But then we were forced to stand, hundreds of people very close together, viewing a story about the history of rail travel, without our glasses. This took ten to fifteen minutes. Not so much to ask, except that people had already been waiting in line for some time, and were not expecting to stand that much longer again. My feet were sore and I was getting annoyed. It was hard to keep from bumping into the other people or stepping on their feet. And I am a little taller than most people in Japan, so I was concerned that I was blocking the views of those behind me. Having said that, though, the film was at least interesting and educational. It was in Japanese with English subtitles so no language problem. Next, we were finally escorted into an actual theater with actual seats. It felt so good to sit down. We put on our 3D glasses, which we had been carrying around for 20 minutes, and the show began. The 3D effect was hardly used. The entire show, 12 minutes long, consisted of shots of the experimental mag-lev train moving down the track from various angles. Then occasionally we would see Japanese men in a control room contgratulating themselves. That is all. Over and over, different angles and different expressions of congratulation for twelve minutes. I entered the theater interested, but after only one minute I was looking at my watch to see how much longer I would have to endure this. This attraction sometimes has people waiting in line for up to two hours.

Did I mention there is a $50 admission fee? Also getting to the place is a hassle. Once you arrive at Nagoya station, you ride a relatively slow, 40-minute shuttle train to a station where you then board another train to take you to your destination. You get a nice opportunity to see some Aichi countryside.

But it wasn't all bad. Many different countries had buildings where they exhibited their customs, fashions, history, etc. Mexico's was pretty cool. These usually had no lines and were really interesting. Cuba's consisted of a bar and some movie screens. But some countries had very elaborate setups, with people weaving, examples of collapsible homes, fabrics, interactive video, and so on. I found the U.S. section a bit disappointing. It was a tribute to Ben Franklin. First we were ushered into a big room with nothing in it, really, except a big statue of Big Ben in the center, and a video screen at the corner. On it we watched a five-minute film about his life. Next we were ushered into a theater where an actor, who was apparently told that Ben Franklin was a big dork, played Franklin as a time traveller who had come to talk to us in 2005 about the wonders of scientific advancement over the last couple centuries. It was pretty dang cheesy. It was cool when he connected to power cords and our seats vibrated--felt good after standing in line and walking so much that day. Another sort of rude but memorable feature was the fact that at one point in the film, when it rained on the screen, it rained in the room! My translator headset got all wet, along with my clothes. I think most people liked it, probably because so many other parts of the day had been so, well, dry.

But I am glad I went. There were many amazing examples of how that utter lack of creativity can still be rewarded with the right marketing. Actually one of my favorite parts of the entire park was essentially a big walk-in freezer with some stuffed animals, erected to show what the temperature is like where they live. It was very refreshing after walking in sun, which actually wasn't even that hot on that particular day. When I walked out of the place, the sweat on my shirt had begun to freeze. It was almost titillating. Other honorable mentions--the Turkish food, the Mexican food, and the ropeway.

Overall, a nice place to spend a day with a date or your kids. If I had it to do over again, I would start by touring all the international pavilions, have a leisurely lunch and watch a concert on the big stage, and then use my remaining time to try a couple of the main attractions besides the JR or Wonder Circus buildings. Is it possible that I chose the two absolute worst of the lot? Yes, very possible.

Actually the day became much more interesting when, because of LONG lines of people trying to get home, I missed my last train and ended up spending the night at a karaoke bar meeting some locals and learning off-color Japanese. It was my first time in Nagoya, but the people were hospitable and fun. Perhaps I will visit again.

Mac is Back

So I do have an excuse for not posting in almost two weeks. Ignorance. My computer froze when I tried to install new software. Finally I was able to get it running again after doing something incredibly (and annoyingly) simple. Cheers to Will Farnham for enlightening me.

Beginning a week off from the language institute, but still have to teach high school and university classes, so no travelling this time. As I write this I am cooking a steak. Mmmm smells good. Must monitor progress....

Charlie the Smoking Monkey

Click on the title to see the monkey do what the monkey saw. But don't do what you see the monkey do just because you see the monkey doing it.

I wonder what brand he likes?

Quote of the Day

I teach two days a week at a university. I asked them to write about their life goals, and here is what one of the students wrote, unedited and authentic:

"I love money, also I like sea.
So sailer is the best work for me."

By the way, I did not stipulate that they should attempt to rhyme.

One Man's Junk? One Man: Punk!

One Man's Junk? One Man: Punk!, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

So I was at an Irish pub on Saturday night, and my friend and I were
talking to a girl who was carrying around a(n) ukulele in a black
case. She said she had been taking lessons for about 3 months. This
reminded me that I recently acquired one as well. A good friend
brought one back from Hawaii for me. And I have been neglecting it. So
I have begun practicing a bit the last couple days. It is coming
back.

I say coming back because I had a(n) ukulele once before, when I was
still in college. I found it broken and abandoned in a dormitory trash
can and glued it back together myself with tender loving care.
Amazingly it stayed in tune and looked as good as new, so I learned to
play it over the next few weeks.

One night I was playing it with some friends who had guitars and a
friend came up and said, "Hey, it's my ukulele!"

To which I replied, "Uh, I found it broken in a garbage can."

He grimaced and said, "Oh, yeah, but I see it 's not broken now!"

"Right. I fixed it."

"Wow, how did you do that?"

"With super glue. It's super."

"I see. Yeah, my mom gave me that ukulele. I was really sad when I
broke it. Thank you for fixing it!"

"Uh...."

"I am so glad I don't have to tell her that I broke it and had to
throw it away."

"Uh...."

"So can I have it back?"

"Uh... yeah. Here."

And that was the end of the ukulele. I didn't see the point in
putting up a fight. And besides, I figured he could 'owe me one', so
to speak. Well, he did bless me before we graduated. He found my brand
new Birkenstocks in a house he shared with some of our mutual friends.
Since he did not immediately know to whom they belonged, he assumed it
would be O.K. for him to wear them. And wear them he did. Often. His
big, sweaty, Alaskan feet made an indelible impression on the soles
of the sandals that become more comfortable as you wear them, since
they shape to fit your foot specifically. The odor was indelible, too.
When I accidentally discovered he had obscounded with them about 6
months later, he graciously offered to give them back. How kind. I
declined.

Now he has a Ph.D. I wonder if he still has the ukulele and the
sandals? I have only bitter memories of two new treasures soon lost.
Come to think of it I think he got his Ph.D. in economics. Makes
sense. He definitely got the better end of that deal.

You Know Who You Are!

The rivalry continues....

The other night I dreamed that I and a friend were at a used bookstore and we both wanted the same item, of which there was only one. We grasped it at the same time and were soon engaged in an all-out wrestling match. In the end I won, but I think he let me. The funny thing about this dream is that it is not strange. There is one person with whom such an event is conceivable. And though we have never had physical confrontation, I can think of at least three similar incidents. We have something of an ongoing rivalry. But now I live in Japan and he in America, so our opportunities to meet in battle are limited. The dream battle was the most intense yet, but I could not understand why he wanted the item in question. What was it? you ask. A set of flash cards for teaching children English. This is something I could actually use, being a teacher, but he, as far as I can see, has no use for it. Unless there is a new English learner on the way. A bun in the oven?

Or maybe he just likes fighting with me? ;)

Too Many Innings, Too Many Beers, Too Many Kanji

Last night I went with three other people to a Hanshin Tigers game. This team has a huge following in the area where I live. The stadium was built in 1920, and feels really small, but I think it can hold well over 50,000 people. Opposing the Tigers was the Orix Blue Wave, Ichiro's former team.

I had a great time talking to strangers at the game, who were all happy to be single-serving friends as we supported the Tigers together. I am still not very good at the chants, but I do try. More than that I enjoyed expressing my individualism by yelling something when the crowd was kind of quiet, often in between the well organized cheers. The fans seemed to appreciate this, so I didn't feel too shy about it. One player, Hiyama, came up to bat but I misread the kanji for his name because the scoreboard was too far away and because kanji are hard to read. "Let's go Matsuyama!!!" I shouted, with all the power I could muster. I was soon informed of my mistake. A bit embarrassing but bound to happen. Oh well.

Many of the fans were drinking beer, and some were drinking a lot of beer. Some of the latter were in fact drinking too much beer. I say this because when I went to use the restroom I could hear two men vomiting at the same time. One was flushing the toilet repeatedly, presumably to mask the sound of his wretching. I was glad that the task I needed to perform was much simpler than that. But it didn't stop me from drinking beer.

The game went into extra innings and was eventually left as a tie, I think after the 12th or 13th inning. It was 11:30 pm by that time. My overall impression was that I need to get to games more often, but make sure I know the player's names before I try to cheer for them.

House-breaking

On Monday I was given a rare opportunity. A friend of mine is building a new house, but must first demolish the old one. I asked if I could have a couple hours with a sledge hammer, and she kindly agreed. I don't think I really had a lot of stress or anger, but I nonetheless broke as much of the interior of the old house as I could in the time I had. We made a video of the event. After searching for the right background music, I settled on a medley of selections from Rage Against the Machine. Very fitting. I did get a blister on my left hand and I also managed to hit my left foot with the sledge hammer, but all in all it was well worth it. Nothing like breaking things without breaking the rules.

Batons and Buttons

Last Sunday I met the 2004 baton champion of the world, or so I am told. She herself only told me that she was employed in a baton teaching capacity. Today one of my students, a very nice lady who claims her hobby is sleeping, told me that she recently lost five million dollars on the stock market. Ouch. And tonight I met a professional Japanese tennis player, Tomoko something. A restaurant I often go to happens to have a lot of famous clientele, but I never recognize them when I am there. I don't suppose it would make much of a difference to me anyway.

Last night at karaoke I was making an artistic statement by hanging a number of clothes hangers from the buttons of my shirt and performing an interpretive dance when one of the staff unexpectedly walked in. I wasn't embarrassed but I think I was the only one in the room who felt that way. The waiter (yes they have waiters at karaoke, kinda) was struggling to hold back his laughter (laughing AT me, not with me, certainly) while presenting me with my shiny new member's card. Perhaps the best part about it was that I was drinking nothing but orange juice and coffee the whole time. A true moment of inspiration.

Monkey Magical Mystery Tour Bus Station Airy

Sorry for the lack of postings. I am kind of used to my life lately, I guess. But if I keep typing, I reckon I can think of something....

I went to dinner with Mr. Miyagi's daughter. I also discovered that she is good at singing Michael Jackson songs in karaoke.

We lost another softball game and I popped out twice when facing a very fast female pitcher. She was scary. When the next pitcher came in I hit the ball high and far but the outfield was playing so deep that it was all for naught. Oh yeah, and one guy on our team was rounding third and heading home and I enthusiastically high-fived him on the way home, hoping to boost our team's morale a bit more with my foolish foreigner antics. But we were soon informed that such behavior is in fact against the rules. As a result the run was replaced by an out. Oops. Once again I must say how thankful I am that no one on our team cares at all. Although being competitive might be fun.... I tried to cry bad shoulder so I could play first base but I was denied and forced to maintain my former position in left field. No rest for the weary.

Next on the agenda that day was an all-you-can-drink beer fest, all afternoon. I decided not to go, though, because I was already too tired from other things. Maybe I am getting old. Or just wiser. which wouldn't be saying much. The previous night I had managed to convince four friends to join me to see a rock show. I know the band and wanted to support them and introduce some new people. My inside information, however, was incorrect. The performance was not Saturday but Friday. Great. So I had four unhappy starving girls to entertain.... I had promised them a concert after all. Luckily my hunch about another bar only a few subway stations away proved correct, and there was a band playing there. So we went, ate, and listened. I saw some people I know, including a certain victim of a certain unbelievable crime that might have been mentioned previously. Also I saw a really sweet girl I know who has faces of rock stars tatooed on her neck and arm, along with other things. One of the kindest girls ever, with a really hard look about her. I love that her personality and her appearance are what they are, and not what people would expect at all.

I am tired. Some other interesting people I have met recently:

A man who claims to be a professional clown whose specialty is inflating baloons with his butt. Nice guy. Said he makes about $10,000 a week. Or something like that. I think not. Rather clowny, though.... I did not ask him to show me his technique.

A guy from Jamaica who was high high high at first and then over the course of the evening became not high. Oh what a difference a few hours make. Nice talking about his culture and hearing the frank truth about things.

Two Japanese punked out chicks not long out of high school who also have the practiced tough appearance, but who have worked hard to achieve the overly cute behavior that is becoming so annoyingly popular among young Japanese girls. Hard to describe other than to say it is contrived until they forget how not to act that way. Then they get older and it seems even stranger. But I won't say it is not interesting!

A really nice young lady who happens to be employed as an exotic dancer (perfectly innocent, friend of a friend, I have never been to a strip club so there), who has just been diagnosed with cancer.

And others I am not remembering at the moment. I want to meet my pillow right now. One last person of note: Today one of my university students, when asked to do an impromptu one-minute 'show and tell' presentation, chose as his subject the monkey wrench he was carrying in his duffle bag. I think anything involving monkeys is funny. He went on about how he loves his monkey wrench, and then students had to ask him questions about it. Some that come to mind: "Do you love it?" ("Yes!") "What is your favorite size?" (He adjusted it and said, "This size!") "Why are you still awake and typing on this blog?" (Oops--internal monologue leak. Must sleep.)

Monkeys everywhere. I just remembered that the song that probably got my friends' band signed to a record label is a remake called "Monkey Magic." And that sounds like a nice thought for a title for this pathetic and delirious and oh so belated entry. The second entry in three to make some mention of monkeys. Perhaps I should designate May as Monkey Awareness Month. So all you loyal and patient and impatient readers out there, send in your monkey stories, links, and trivia! Or something. I wonder how much monkeys sleep?

Hiroshima Foursome

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Send Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

I haven't had much to say lately, I guess. Let's see... last night I went to an Italian restaurant and then to karaoke for a really long time. Nothing new there....

Oh, I met a really nice guy who claims to have recently been drugged by two Japanese women and sexually assaulted over the course of three days. This story came after I inquired about the red marks on his wrists which he said were from handcuffs. That in itself I found hard to swallow. Little did I know what tales awaited me. He said he woke up after days of unconsciousness, discovered a strong need to urinate, a lack of mobility, a lack of clothing, and a stranger on top of him. He was uncuffed to use the toilet and made his escape, still reeling and in a drug-induced and shock-affected haze. He, against his own gentlemanly nature, knocked the captor to the floor and fled the spinning room, carrying his clothes and falling down the stairs on the way. By the time he reached a train station, he still didn't know where he was. He found he still had his wallet but that it was missing the month's pay he had been carrying. He had to sneak on and off the trains to get home, but finally made it. While he was out he lost the new job for which he had just been hired due to continued and unexplained absence. Aside from the uncommon nature of the story itself, I had no reason not to believe him. So I kinda did and kinda do. He claimed to have other physical evidence to support his story, but I didn't ask to see it. Let this be a lesson to all of you unsuspecting and amorous men out there: beware of chemicals and strange women.

As for me, I am working hard and dreading the summer humidity which has already begun to rear its ugly head.

A point of interest to some, perhaps: the freak shoulder-injury from that fateful volleyball game of four years ago, the very same one which almost certainly led to ultimate dtd defeat, has continued to plague me until now and has recently become annoyingly painful. I reckon a trip to the doctor is in order. But not until after softball on Sunday.

And I am planning a day-trip to Hiroshima tomorrow. I will say hi to the monkey lady for the garbage man. Lord Graysan still lurks in the cyber-shadows, but I will nonetheless include him in the greeting howl. If there is a zoo in Hiroshima I hope I won't be near it. Wouldn't want to cause another primate riot.

Speaking of zoos, how about the renegade elephants in Seoul? Did people see this on the news? They headed straight for the kitchen. Here is video proof that elephants are literally crazy for kimchi.

Derailed

I decided I should say something about today's train accident. (Click on the title of this post for the story.) I wasn't in it, thankfully, though I do take that train sometimes. The accident happened very near where I live. I am hoping that no one I know was involved. So far I haven't heard anything to that effect, but I can't seem to get my mind around it. I want to do something to help, but I feel helpless. In the meantime everyone seems to be going on with life, as they should I suppose, in the normal fashion. That is to say that they keep smiling and laughing and complaining about their jobs and watching game shows and going shopping. They are aware of what happened and they aren't happy about it, but they don't seem any different, really. I think that is probably the normal and healthy response, but it is still hard for me to accept it, I guess. I feel like I need some time to just think about the whole thing. It is like the feeling of mourning for a loved one, actually. When someone near you dies you don't feel right about the trivial things in your life, because something so profound has just happened, something so painful and mysterious and personal. In time we can laugh again, but not without a period where to do so feels awkward. This may be one of those times when my friends would tell me, and perhaps some of you will, "Hack, you think too much." But it is very easy for me to identify with the victims of this particular tragedy because I could have easily been one.

I think of the family of the young man who was driving the train. And the college students on their way to classes. And the children. And the businessmen and women who work 80-hour weeks and have mastered the art of catching a nap on the train to the office. And the elderly people who, thanks to the great transportation system in Japan, have the freedom to move about with relative ease.

At the time of this writing, 57 people are dead, over 400 injured. But the other trains keep running and people still sit in the front cars. Soon it will be for most like it never happened. But for many of those who were directly affected, life will never be the same. If nothing else may it be a reminder to us all that we are indeed very mortal. Life is precious and fragile. May we take that knowledge and live and love well. May the pain and death motivate us to goodness, that it may be said that this tragedy wasn't meaningless. May we honor those who suffered by allowing our lives to be affected by their deaths. None of them were expecting to meet the end when they woke up this morning. Neither are we when we go about our own daily routines. But a time is coming for each of us, maybe soon, maybe not. May we be ready when it does.

Not only do I appreciate the reminder of my own mortality, but I want to keep remembering that the people I interact with won't always be here either, and thus I should treat them each with kindness, even if I may not feel they deserve it. If someone dies, it is too late to apologize, too late to make that phone call or write that thank you note, too late to tell her you love her or give him some help with his homework.

Why is it so hard to live lives that reflect our knowledge that our time is limited and unknown? Do we simply prefer not to think about it because it is unpleasant? The very existence of death should move us to celebrate and cherish life, and each other. But whenever we refuse to reflect on that truth, we miss an opportunity to become a little bit better, a little bit deeper, a little bit wiser, a little more compassionate and forgiving and understanding, a little more human.

What you talkin' 'bout Willis?

This morning, after a total of over two and a half years in Japan, I finally took the written part of my driving test for the first time. I think due to the fact that I already have an American license, I only had to answer ten true or false questions. I got 8 out of 10 correct, as I couldn't quite understand the English of two of the questions, or the corresponding sections in the driver's manual. But then, come to think of it, I felt the same way when I took the test in the U.S.

Bow Wow Ni Hao

Last night, as I was sitting on a bench in a shopping mall eating some chocolate, a dog came up to me. I don't remember if it had a collar, but I think it did as it was well groomed and not at all "mangy". It sat down in front of me, displaying intense interest in my tender morsel. As I was telling the dog that I wouldn't oblige because chocolate is bad for dogs, it very gently and thoughtfully lifted one paw and placed it on my knee, as if it were saying please. I was struck by the way this dog moved so gracefully, so I talked to it some more but steered the subject away from the chocolate which I had just finished eating. The dog seemed to be losing interest since I no longer had anything yummy on hand, but I wanted to keep talking to it. It seemed to be mingling among the patrons, trying to charm food from them. Oh, and it was a male dog, so I will now change pronouns.

I wasn't desperate, but I was curious enough to attempt to maintain/regain his attention. So I asked where he was from. He was from China. So I started speaking Chinese to him. That seemed to perk his ears up. I started telling him what to do in Chinese, "Come," "Sit," "Not in the chair, on the ground!", "Don't do that!" He was obeying. As this was all going on, I felt a strange mix of emotions concerning the people around me. Partly I felt pride that I was able to communicate with this dog, and in Chinese. Also I felt a bit self-conscious, though, following a dog through a mall, not in China, a white boy speaking Chinese to a pet. I was aware of more than a few pairs of eyes, but I continued.

Then, abruptly, the dog stopped obeying me when I said "Come," and instead scampered off and shouted back in Chinese, "Just a moment!" I thought I heard this, but I couldn't believe he had just spoken, so I quickly shrugged it off as being only my imagination, and yelled "Good bye!" in Chinese as he rounded a corner and went out of sight.

I was just killing time anyway, so I decided to begin walking in the same direction. Just moments later, I met the dog again. He was coming out of a store, and puttiing on his backpack. He asked me if I could go to his house and play, only now he was speaking English. I told him I had to get back home to the farm, adding that it was very far away. He seemed a little disappointed but understood.

Then the dream got blurry and turned into an adventure where I was helping to save people and boats and all-terrain surfing behind a jeep. The co-stars were friends that I haven't seen since high school. I remember giving one of them money, 1000 Japanese Yen, but referring to it as a "ten spot".

Then the scene shifted to an apartment building. I was on the third floor, and sometimes due to absentmindedness I would stop on the wrong level and open the door to someone else's apartment. (I have done the same before in real life, but never actually got the door opened.) The woman on the first floor seemed to be aurally challenged, if not completely deaf, so when I opened her door, walked into her apartment and yelled "Hello!" (I have no idea why I did this), she didn't look up. I realized I was an intruder before she realized she had one, and made a swift escape back to the stairway.

I had friends, I think, on the second floor, a middle-aged woman with a cat and her temporary boarder, a middle-aged man with a small dog. I don't remember many details, but I do recall that one day the woman was getting ready to go power walking and she had dressed the cat in athletic gear, including yellow sunglasses. I commented that it was amazing that the cat put up with that and the woman said, "Oh, well, you know they have the elastic band, and besides, she likes the puppies!" The cat looked up as if to give assent.

And then some other stuff may have happened, I am not really sure. And I woke up.

So in real life, last night I went to a Chinese restaurant. Should I be concerned that I dreamt about a Chinese dog???

Groove is in the Heart

Last night's karaoke playlist:

Mr. Roboto (STYX)
酒よ　（吉幾三）
Ring of Fire (JOHNNY CASH)
I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing (AEROSMITH)
Hello Mary Lou (RICKY NELSON)
It's My Life (BON JOVI)
Somewhere I Belong (LINKIN PARK)
More Than Words (EXTREME)
Without You (MARIAH CAREY)
Enter Sandman (METALLICA)
さよなら大好きな人　（花＊花）

These pretzels are making me thirsty!

With the warming weather, I have finally resumed a jogging regimen after an embarrassingly long hiatus. The first day I ran along the seaside and watched cherry blossoms gently falling as the sun was setting in the background. I kept thinking to myself, "Self, look what you've been missing!" Today as I ran by the water there were so many fish jumping that I was tempted to stop and watch them. Instead, though, I just ran without watching where I was going. I guess you could say I was being a rubbernecker. Anyway, spring has sprung and I am trying to take advantage of it. Hopefully hayfever and medicine that makes me sleep won't hamper my efforts.

In other news, the softball "season" resumed yesterday. Our team lost 13-8, I think. My streak of games with at least one home run came to a halt and I committed, mm, about 73 errors in the field. Glad I am on a team where no one practices and losing is not a big deal. In fact yesterday we may not have been able to continue in the tournament even if we had won. I blame my sub-par performance on the very long line at the restroom, due to which I had to wait not only most of the game, but another 15 minutes in the queue to find relief. I didn't check but it looked as if someone had given up on the line and gone straight to the sink. I kept trying to imagine how one would perform such a feat, but never seriously considered an attempt myself. The wait was literally painful, as I stood with my legs meaningfully crossed and struggled to think of anything but that about which I could not help but think. The long anticipated payoff, though, was nothing short of blissful as a result. I was actually dizzy afterward.

Why am I telling you this?

The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Grease

Or, "ごみやげーうるさい！"

Click here to read the true tale of a voluntary(?) naked and televised prisoner named Eggplant. Another fascinating site brought to you by Gomeiyage.

Fly the Flag!

Sounds like "Fry the Frog!" in a Japanese TV commercial I saw last night about a rock concert. I think "Fry the Frog!" is a much cooler name for a show anyway. Perhaps it was not the pronunciation but rather the spelling that was erroneous....

A Fool Such As I

So I finally made it to the kung fu massage place I have already mentioned. It was after 1 in the morning when my friend and I got there, which is actually pretty typical. I go every time I visit Taiwan, so they remember me. The master is in his 50's or 60's, a bit rotund, and not the most hygienic person you could hope to meet. The emphasis at this establishment is on the healing powers of properly administered massage, not on comfort or atmosphere. To put it more bluntly, it is dirty and unrefined. But that, too, is part of its charm... for me at least.

On this night the master was in top form. As we walked in he was unashamedly picking his nose. He was really working on a big nasal blockage removal project, and kept at it while he talked with us and gave orders to his staff. He said hello to me and then started speaking very gruffly in Taiwanese, as usual. I can understand a fair amount of Chinese, but I am nearly useless in Taiwanese. I know a few words, but otherwise I just have to pay attention to body language and tone of voice. So all I could make out was that he said something about me being 'really big' and about teaching someone something. He was looking right at me and by his tone it felt like he was mocking me. Was he calling me fat? Whatever. I was pretty sure he was callilng me fat. But I just wanted a massage, not a Taiwanese lesson. So I tried to ignore him.

About 10 minutes into my massage, as I was beginning to feel more relaxed, the nose picking master crouched down next to me, so we were face to face, and said with harsh tones and gestures, "Taiwan blah blah blah delicious blah blah blah? Ha ha ha!" So now what? Was he saying I eat too much delicious food when in Taiwan? Was he actually mocking me to my face in front of everyone? I felt like a starfleet member on a Klingon Warbird being openly challenged. To let it go would mean dishonor--it must be answered.... But then, what if I were wrong? Anyway, I didn't want to deal with it, or him. But I was surprised at this new low. Like the great doctor who never learned bedside manner. Totally unprofessional, I thought, regardless of what he actually said.

Put it this way: If the way he said what he said were translated into English, or Japanese, it would be something like, "You are worthless scum and so is your family and you don't deserve to breathe the same air as me or the fleas on that dog which I later plan to eat!"

Then he asked my Taiwanese friend to get an answer from me. So friend translated: "He want to know if everytime you come here I take you to very delicious place, you know my mean?" Already annoyed and sick of the the master, I told him I just want to sleep. I was very angry at this point, and I can't explain it well enough other than to refer you to the above paragraph. The way he spoke was so animated and felt to me to be so disrespectful that I was doing all I could not to just get up and leave. I wanted my massage, after all.

At the end of our time, my Taiwanese friend asked if i would like to soak my feet before leaving and I said no, I really have to go right now. I couldn't take another minute in that place with the self-righteous racist nose picking jerk. I physically bit my tongue as I paid my bill and walked out of the door slowly and carefullly. I didn't reckon it would be worth it to say anything. After all, these people study kung fu! Once to the car I let my frustrations fly. And my Taiwanese friend agreed that in fact the master had spoken very harshly and carelessly and he understood my anger.

When we got home, though, I found out that the way he spoke and the words he spoke were quite different. That is to say content did not at all match delivery. It turns out that actually this master always asks about me when my friend goes for a massage alone, and he is genuinely interested in a foreigner's thoughts about Taiwan and his massage shop. So he was actually glad to see me. What he said first was that I am a big guy, but I don't need a really hard massage, so the person administering said massage need not worry. Later, he was just asking if my friend had shown me some good places to eat, because it would be a shame to miss out on Taiwan's great food.

I completely and utterly misunderstood. After over three and a half years in Asia I am still learning that I really have a lot to learn. I felt so ashamed when I realized how far off I was. My Taiwanese friend made me feel a little better when he said that if someone were to speak to him in that way in a language he did not understand, he would assume they wanted to fight. Still, I should know better. I lived in Taiwan for nearly a year, after all. The language has 8 tones and tends to sound harsh anyway. When spoken by some people even words of sincere kindness can sound threatening and disrespectful to the untrained ear.

And besides, what if he had been mocking me? That would have been his problem, not mine. "But I say to those who hear: love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. ... And just as you want people to treat you, treat them in the same way." (Luke 27-28, 31 NASB)

Tough not to be drawn in by such things; even harder to rise above.

Besides, I could stand to shed a few pounds. :)

Home is where the electric bills are

I just got home after an exceptionally irritating 12 hours of travel to find that I left one of my lights on for a week. Grr.

The lights are still off, though, when it comes to my Japanese. I noticed immediately after returning. After only a week in Taiwan of practicing my Chinese, I had trouble coming up with the Japanese just to tell the taxi guy where I was.... I am having to form sentences in my mind and rehearse them before actually speaking, so anything sudden is bad news, at least for the next few hours. Example: I think I really startled the bus man when he mistakenly began to reload my very large piece of luggage. Rather than simply saying "Excuse me, that's mine," which would have been very easy to do, I did the more primitive thing and pulled on my bag in the opposite direction. Oh what a look he gave me. Better watch some NHK or something quick.

Aside from the fact that Japanese and Chinese do not coexist readily in the front of my mind, I am reminded that I haven't slept but about 3 hours in the past two days. I should sleep. Yeah....

But first allow me to inventory some of the very culturally significant items I purchased while in Taiwan:

2 Mr. Bean Pez Dispensers
$1, $2 and $3 (authentic) DVDs and VCDs
Ovaltine Malted Milk Mix
Gilette Aftershave
Fancy Tea (a must)
Some XL shirts that are actually XL
The newest CD from Yan-zi, a Singapore singer I have a big crush on

In other words, not that much... where does the money go? And why do I always have so much luggage? One would think I would have learned how to pack efficiently by now. Clearly not the case.

Doh! I just realized I left my remaining 4 cans of Mountain Dew in the refrigerator in Taiwan. I guess there are worse things I could have forgotten. I wonder if I did...?