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.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
A Little Green Can
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....
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
My Stupid Hobby
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?
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?
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