Category Archives: Random

What’s Good for Thee You Can Do Not Me

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One of my maxims of politics is “Everyone is for something as long as it doesn’t effect them personally” (aka the Do it to Julia Theory of Altruism.) This is also true of the company I work for.

Because of this, I was ready to throw a small fit at the meeting I had to attend last Monday.

A couple years ago, when the “work” day nonsense started and the powers what are decided I needed to stay in my house all summer because, well, because I am their property I guess, we also got word we were going to  have to fill out a bimonthly form I quickly dubbed “the useless form”.

The useless form amounted to us copying the schedule we were given at the beginning of the year onto a different form and answering two questions and then attaching that form to an email and sending it on. There are lots of political, satiate the government reasons for having us do this but there were some problems. The main problem was that, because we work for the company we work for, most people couldn’t afford a copy of MS Word to use to open and edit the useless form and tried to use Open Office and Libre Office instead. This caused problems that were only resolved recently when the company I work for started putting the forms on line.

About the time the useless form arrived, we were also informed we’d have to fill out a monthly “reflection” in which we were to reflect about our work that month and our goals and our relationships with our Team Teaching partners.

This caused a problem: I don’t have  a team teaching partner. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, none of the private school teachers have teaching partners. This made the reflection part of the useless form as useless as the rest of the form.

Then, early this year, we lost our head teacher to more meaningful and gainful employment and no one wanted to be head teacher. Because the work of managing the useless forms would fall to our immediate supervisors, the all-important monthly reflection suddenly became less important. In fact, we didn’t have to do it at all.

At the last meeting, though, I knew some sucker had been persuaded to become head teacher. I therefore expected that the useless monthly reflection would suddenly be active again and I was ready to throw a “you @$$holes” fit. Instead, the reflections were left in the ash heap of history.

I expect, however, they’ll be back next year.

 

 

Nice People I Don’t Really Want to See

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I spent the morning with people I like but didn’t really want to see.

I did this because the company I work for has one simple goal: keep my butt trapped in my house from 9:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m every day during the summer because, well, because they said so. However, every now and then they let me out of the house and tell me to come down to Tokyo for a meeting.

Frankly, I’d rather stay home and “work”.

The meetings involve all the private school teachers assembling at the Tokyo office for a three hour meeting. The meeting today started with our actual decision making boss giving us a short pep-talk about how wonderful we are and how the fact we are private school teacher shows we are like the best teachers in Japan.

The whole time, though, I couldn’t help but bite my pen to keep myself from speaking and or grunting (not a joke) and to think “Put up or the shut the fuck up” because the undertone of his speech was “You are wonderful and special and we will not give you a raise and you have to keep the busy work “work” days but at least I’m saying nice things for the 22.5 seconds I’m going to bother speaking to you before I go back to real work. Yay, you.” (Something like that.)

We then shared ideas and discussed our jobs as if we haven’t done that before at every meeting and wouldn’t rather be doing it over beer. Since there was no beer present, we wondered why we couldn’t have shared ideas via email.

The meeting seems to be less work, but with the travel, I actually end up working exactly the same amount of time and can’t just pretend I’m working, er, I mean working efficiently and effectively. The company is adamant enough about the time table that they remind us not to submit work too early lest it look as if we’re not working. (Note: that’s not a joke; we were told that, in so many words today. Apparently working efficiently and effectively is not allowed.)

The day wasn’t a total annoying loss. After the meeting I had lunch at an Italian restaurant that served the best grilled pork and grilled vegetables I’ve had in Japan (all for only 900 yen or $7.30) and I got a chance to go to a foreign food and beverage store and stock up on a few essentials: pasta, beer, and bourbon.

Tomorrow, I’m stuck in the house again. I will, of course, officially, of course, be working most of the day. I totally won’t be playing a game. (I also now have lots of beer and bourbon.)

Some Things are Sentimental; Some Things are Just Junk

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I have four watches, but only two work. The two that don’t work, though, have strong sentimental value and that’s a problem.

Despite my ever changing collections of stuff, I’ve never been big on watches and usually have only had one at a time. I still remember getting a Mickey Mouse several hundred years ago when I was little and a digital watch sometime in the late ’70s.

I also liked them as gadgets and went through a phase of Casio digital watches. I had a watch a lot like this one, with a built in touch screen calculator. (Note: this means to me the Apple Watch is kind of retro/old-fashioned.) I also remember, at one point, having a watch that combined both an analog dial and a digital readout (it looked vaguely like this).

Then, after my grandfather died in the early 1990’s I inherited his retirement watch, which was a Seiko 17 Jewel Automatic he got in 1979. His retirement date is engraved on the back.

I inherited it because I used to terrorize the company he worked for with my big wheel, er, I used to race around the factory floor on my Big Wheel. I’m sure that would violate at least 17 different federal workplace safety laws now and my parents would go to jail for allowing me to have access to “motorized” transportation. (Note: it probably violated 17 different federal workplace safety laws back then, too.)

The watch is self-winding and has the odd quirk, for an automatic watch at least, of actually gaining time each day rather than losing it. In fact, it gains about a minute a day and by the end of the week, if I don’t reset it, all I know is that it isn’t that time yet. This means I’m always early to places when I wear it.

I wore the Seiko until a couple years ago when I cracked the crystal and took it in to be repaired and overhauled. I then discovered it was so old it was on a Do Not Repair list. The repairman proved this by showing me the book with the watch’s serial number in a small square on one of the pages. I replaced it with a more modern Seiko 5 SNKE63k1 Automatic (that loses time each day so I have to be careful) and dirt cheap Timex Weekender for the season in which it rains.

Then, when my father died, I inherited the Omega Seamaster 120m Calypso he’d inherited from my grandfather when he died (which is kind of odd, since my dad actually gave my grandfather the watch so technically it was a repossession). The watch doesn’t work and the repair price would be large enough that it’s cheaper to buy a working version of the watch rather than have it repaired.

The Omega Seamaster on the left and the Seiko on the right. You can see the big crack in it.

The Omega Seamaster on the left and the Seiko on the right. You can see the big crack in it.

I hang on to the old watches mostly because it’s extremely hard to get rid of sentimental things, even when they are junk. I also have a couple pocket knives like that (more on those in the future).

The other problem is how to get rid of them. Someone in the family might want the retirement watch but the band on the Omega is probably the only thing useful on that watch. Still, it’s connected to two important men in my life and I can’t just throw it away.

Or at least I tell myself that. In the end I’ll probably just give them away to some tinkerer who wants to play with them and might be able to make them work. That seems a better end than the trash bin, but that might just be an excuse to keep them around a little longer.

The new watches: the Timex Weekender on the left and the Seiko 5 on the right.

The new watches: the Timex Weekender on the left and the Seiko 5 (SNKE63k1)  on the right.

 

 

You Can’t Always Get What You Need

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Note: this one my not be comfortable for the squeamish and/or those afraid of needles.

Well, the good news is the typhoon is slow and what rain there was hit Tokyo and not us. The bad news is I don’t have glasses. Sort of.

At long last, I headed off to the eye doctor’s today which meant braving the heat and humidity and then sweating on the paperwork I had to fill out. Because it was technical Japanese, I broke out my smartphone and used Google’s surprisingly handy Translate App which let me translate text by taking pictures of it.

I was a little annoyed as I’ve been to this doctor a few times before for eye checks and to have needles stuck in my right eyeball  to drain blood when I got a subconjunctival hemorrhage after karate. (Note: link not safe for lunch.) I’d even remembered my information card which should have made most of the form irrelevant.

 

I then got to wait half an hour for five other people to finish.  When it was my turn I kept trying to explain to the doctor that I’m pretty sure I need real glasses as I’m pretty sure my eyes aren’t evenly farsighted. The doctor sat me down and put me through a series of tests in his darkened laboratory.

Note: this is an old building with lots of older looking equipment including a couple boxes with light beams that remind me of the “Voight-Kampff” Empathy test. There’s also a doll hung by the neck from the ceiling that you’re supposed to look at when he does one of his tests. (Remember, this man once stuck needles in my right eyeball.)

The determinations were: 1) I’ve got a small cataract in one eye that’s normal for my age; 2) I’ve got presbyopia, which sounds more impressive than “trying to see as old men do” vision which is more poetic than “Old Man’s Eyes”; and 3) I should get some real eyeglasses and not just the over-the-counter reading glasses I’ve been using. I repeated that getting real eyeglasses was my goal for visiting the office and he sent me out to the waiting room to, well, wait.

A few minutes later, the cute receptionist gave my my bill, my change and a friendly “have a nice day”. What she didn’t give me was a prescription for eyeglasses or any information that would help me get them.

I returned home and told She Who Must Be Obeyed about what had happened (leaving out the part about the receptionist being cute, of course because nothing positive could be gained by mentioning it–also remember, I’m not seeing clearly). SWMBO called the clinic for clarification and was told something along the lines of I didn’t get a prescription because the doctor somehow used the store under his office (his office is on the second floor USA; first floor UK) and that they were expensive.

So, if I’m understanding this, the doctor didn’t take a chance for a kickback because, well, I’m still not sure and that’s more important than me getting a prescription for glasses. (Something like that.)

Now, I’ll try going to an eyeglasses store and see if they can fix me up. If they can’t, I’ll have to get a second opinion.

I Do What I Do They Do What I Say

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The only good thing about being trapped at home is I have the girls doing dishes.

This is attributed to a difference in style between me and She Who Must Be Obeyed. Because SWMBO is a native Japanese she ends up complaining a lot about the girls lack of initiative. In other words, rather than telling the girls to do something she complains that they haven’t done it, hoping the suggestion and the shaming will lead to action. Some of this is cultural. The Japanese don’t like direct confrontation which leads to a lot of suggestions and complaints rather than a lot of “get your ass to the sink and do disheses”.

However, since my daughters are biracial they inherited a certain amount of sass and backtalk and stubborness from two different national gene pools. This leads to long arguments with SWMBO that end when I officially “lose my shit” at the circular and noisy nature of the argument going on next to me.

I have tried to encourage SWMBO not to take the bait when the girls are backtalking and to instead stay on message. Translation: Tell them”Stop talking to me that way and go do XYZ”. This has led our oldest to try a “What? What did I say?” strategy.

However, with me at home during the day, I’ve got our youngest washing breakfast dishes and our oldest hanging laundry in the morning and washing supper dishes at night. (Note: She has to do the latter for five more weeks because of something she did a couple weeks ago. I don’t actually remember what she did but I do remember that sass back talk and stubborness led her to try to call my bluff and that made four weeks into six weeks.)

In short, I dared our oldest to backtalk me and she did. She hasn’t done it since, though.

 

The Best Laid Plans Waylaid by the Way Side

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Well, it was a good plan. It just didn’t account for the thing I knew was going to happen.

A month or so ago I had a health check and when the results came back they were mostly positive. My cholesterol is good as is my general health. They only glitch was my eyesight which has become increasingly farsighted. The results of the eye test prompted me to decide it was time to get some real glasses and not just the over the counter reading glasses I’ve been using.

With school now finished and only busy “work” left to do, I made plans to go to the eye doctor today and get started on the inevitable “do these frames make my butt look fat?” (something like that) eye-glasses process. I even mentioned this plan to She Who Must Be Obeyed.

Imagine my surprise then when, this morning, as I made ready to get ready, SWMBO announced she had to eat because she was going to work. I repeated my plan to her and was informed that she’d scheduled work every day this week, except, I think Friday. (Note: as my rage builds my ability to listen gets worse. It runs in the family.) Part of the rage was that this exact situation has happened before which is why I’d mentioned my plans early on and even included a couple other plans. After all, it was only my eyesight.

It turns out I was stuck babysitting our youngest in the morning. SWMBO assured me, though, I could go in the afternoon once she got back from work. I huffed and swore under my breath but adjusted my plan from “go take care of my eyes” to “sit at home and do very little and make no plans to go out”. As I figured, by the time SWMBO returned it was too late to go and get a place in line at the eye doctor’s office.

My best bet now, if I heard her right, is Friday, about the time the typhoon is scheduled to hit the main island.

 

Dilemmas of a Moral and Selfish Nature

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I have a unique chance to influence my future and the futures of many potential students and that has created a moral dilemma for me.

First a little history: Several years ago the school where I work had elective classes for junior high school second and third year students (8th and 9th graders). The classes alternated between being fun if we had students sign up who were interested in English and being tedious if the students had little interest in English but wanted to hang out with their cool friend whose parents made him take the course.

The courses were pitched, along with electives offered by Japanese teachers, in a large sales pitch meeting. My chance to do the sales pitch came after I’d spent a year teaching a particularly bad group of students who, despite being in an English elective they chose to be in, didn’t understand why I spoke English the entire time.

When I gave my sales pitch, I spoke English, reasonably slowly, and told them if they couldn’t understand me, they shouldn’t sign up. After I finished I got lots of “wow, are you F@#king serious?” looks from several teachers. Only one student signed up for the course but to this day I remain unrepentant about that pitch. (It helped that he was an awesome student.)

My current dilemma is that I’m teaching a pair of demo classes for the open campus at the school where I work. I therefore have the chance to influence potential future high school students before they become actual high school students.

The devil over my right shoulder is telling me to put on a great pitch because “more students equals more money for the company you work for and you will get, well, not much actually but you will have the satisfaction of having done your best. Etcetera”. The devil over my left shoulder is telling me to “drive the f@#kers away; drive the obnoxious little f@#kers away. Keep them out of the school. Make them someone else’s problem. Don’t let them become your problem. Do it to Julia! Do it to Julia!”

In the end I suspect I’ll be kind and courteous and put on a decent class, especially as parents will also be in the room and others will be staring in the windows. Even I believe in making a good first impression sometimes.

I will make the students do a short speech, though. That ought to drive some of them away. In the nicest possible way, of course.

 

A Nap is Not a Siesta

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As the season of Humid enters it’s Hell phase, I find myself suddenly doing things I normally don’t do.

Although today was a light day of work, the heat from the suddenly awoken sun–we had a much cooler than normal June after a couple shots across the bow in early June–was made worse by a decision to pay for the new school building by causing suffering to those who go there. (Translation: the air conditioner is set to uncomfortable levels.)

After finishing work and doing some running, I arrived home to discover I had almost no energy. I’d gone to bed at a normal time and gotten up at my normal time but it hadn’t left me with much energy for the afternoon. After valiantly attempting to do some writing, I surrendered and went to take a nap on the couch.

Taking a nap in the afternoon is not something I normally do. The only time I ever took a regular afternoon nap was in Albania where I had little choice. The entire country shuts down in the late afternoon for a light snack and a long nap. It’s their version of a siesta. I was never a big fan of these–which is why I can’t remember the Albanian phrase for it–especially as there was no air conditioning. However, a little raki and a lot of food pretty much guaranteed I’d be taking a nap no matter how hot it was.

I also expected, as I lay me down to nap, that our youngest would arrive home and I’d have to abandon the couch which would alter the plan considerably. The couch is actually what separates the afternoon nap from the Albanian siesta. A nap on the couch is only comfortable if you’re sleepy. Also, it’s in a bright room and you just plop down in your regular clothes. For the siesta you actually change clothes and go to bed. Doing that would cause me to wake up at an odd hour and then never go back to sleep until an even odder hour.

After the nap (which lasted only a half hour, not the Albanian two hours) I could finally do some work without passing out in my chair.

I suspect this nap will become a part of my every day process whilst I’m still going to work. Once work is over, I doubt I’ll still be napping.

An Afternoon Off, With Popcorn and Accidents

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Today was actually a happy accident, although I didn’t realize that at first.

After much hemming and hawing and complaining about the heat (summer finally arrived with a vengeance) I decided to go see Avengers: Age of Ultron. I was done marking exams and had finished all my final marks in the morning and needed to get out of the house. Because of the heat, She Who Must Be Obeyed offered to drive me but I pointed out I needed the exercise as I’d been inside for three days straight.

At the theater, which is only a couple train stops, a bit of a walk and quite a bit of sweat away, I was shocked to discover I was only being charged 1,100 yen (or $8.90 right now). The usual ticket price for a ticket is 1,800 yen ($14.58). When I glanced at the colorful board next to the register all I noticed was that there was a discount for people 55 years old and older.  At first I was surprised and a bit annoyed and then I was like, cool. My graying hair is coming in handy all of a sudden.

It turned out though, after careful inspection, that the theater has adopted a policy it calls “Happy Mondays” where all tickets are discounted. (There are already student discounts.) There are also discounts for having a store card and for coming early in the morning or late at night. I guess I’ll have to wait to exploit my graying hair.

These discounts are interesting because they mean, at long last, that the theaters are having to lower prices to sell tickets and concessions as streaming slowly becomes popular in Japan and most young people watch videos on their phones.  If these discounts last, it means I’ll probably go see more movies.

Today I did my part for the theater by ordering a couple hot dogs for lunch and then getting popcorn and an ice tea to enjoy during the movie. The popcorn was good (and fresh, which is not always true with that theater before noon). According to my scale, means the movie got an automatic three stars out of five.

The movie itself was good, although it was plagued by shaky camera nonsense and not enough Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. It was especially good to see Jeremy Renner get the chance to speak in more than grunts and knowing glares.

The next movies on the list don’t arrive until December (the new Star Wars and the new James Bond). I hope I can see them on a Monday or my gray hair fools the staff.

 

 

The Not As Bad As We Thought Timing of Wishes

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I mentioned before how we were expecting a lot of work to be done on our apartment at a time when it wasn’t particularly convenient. I was expecting the worst. Instead what we got wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was more than we expected.

While I was at the ISOT, She Who Must Be Obeyed had the day off. That was the day the repair teams arrived and attacked our apartment without mercy.

In one day they replaced the six tatami mats in our bedroom. They are still a bit green, meaning they are brand new, and She Who Must Be Obeyed assures me that they smelled great at first.

While they were in the bedroom they also replaced all the wallpaper, not just the parts that were peeling off because of humidity. While they were replacing the wallpaper, they also repaired a couple small holes our girls had created in the walls from practicing various dance moves and/or rough-housing.

(Note: according to our girls the holes were created by “I don’t know,” whoever that is, so we’ve punished both just to be safe. Once “I don’t know” is located, he/she will also be punished.)

(Note: Yes, I am aware that, officially, I Don’t Know is on third base.)

Unfortunately, they also removed the screw I’d installed to hold our air conditioner remote. This means the remote could end up anywhere and probably will.

In the variety room, they patched the ruined section of floor covering that had come loose because of humidity and then slowly been shredded by my chair. I’d covered with a blue plastic cover that had to be taped down to keep it from sliding. Now, there’s a brown spot that doesn’t exactly match the floor covering. They also gave me an extra bit to serve as a floor protector.

The old plastic cover now serves as a humidity shield in our closet.

Finally, they brought the newly screened screen doors meaning we could enjoy the unseasonably cool weather without sharing our apartment with random insects.

It all went so smoothly that I kind of wish I’d broken a couple other things just to see if they’d fix it. That said, I’m now waiting for the next thing to break. And something will break, I’m pretty sure of it.