Category Archives: Random

The Bag Marks the Spot and Brings the Anger

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If I were less paranoid, I’d probably get to sit down more often. I’d also be a lot more calm.

The other day, before the party where I ran into former students, I decided I needed some coffee and something sweet right after I arrived in Ikebukuro. I therefore went to the Cafe du Monde for coffee and beignets. (Although this is a cliche thing to do if you’re in New Orleans, in Tokyo it counts as cross-cultural contamination, or something like that.)

When I walked in, there were a handful of tables available. My gut and experience told me that I should drop my bag off on one of the tables, but my paranoid self said “Are you insane?” My gut and experience said that the bag would be fine if I left it. My paranoid self It pointed out there was no line so I was probably safe. My gut and experience said “Are you insane?”

By the time I got my coffee and my flag, the chairs had been claimed by other people’s bags.

This is a common occurrence in Japan and is not considered rude. There may be a dozen people in line ahead of you and only one table left, but the 13th person in line is allowed to claim the seat with a bag or a scarf. Even if it were safe to do this in most countries, I still consider it rude, especially if there’s a long line. It seems to me no different than cutting in line to get served first. However, in Japan they seem to assume that you’re smart enough to know how to reserve your seat and have probably already done so. If you’re not smart enough, then, well, stand.

The only seats available in Cafe du Monde that afternoon were in the smoking section. I stood around waiting for a table. I was quietly swearing under my breath. (Yes, believe it or not, quietly.) Luckily, one of the staff asked around and someone removed his bag from a chair he’d been using as bag storage and I got a seat.

I had a lot of time to kill so I stayed around for a while. I got to see several tables open up and immediately get occupied by bags. I quietly swore at each person who did that.

Randomly Taking the X Out of Christmas

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Although I spent a lot of time in history of Christianity classes at university and know that the “X” in “Xmas” is ancient shorthand for “Christ” and not some secular conspiracy, it still bothers me a bit that the Japanese use “Xmas” instead of “Christmas”.

First it bothers me that in most of the government approved English textbooks “Xmas” is offered as an appropriate example of a word that starts with X. For example: “V is for Violence; W is for Whiskey; X is for Xmas; Y is for Yelling,” (Which, now that I think about it, is a lot like shopping on Black Friday.) I keep pointing out that “X-ray” or “xylophone” would be better but then get thrown out of the discussions.

Beyond that it’s surprising how easily the religious aspects are removed from the celebration. It’s all Santa and snowmen and reindeer and no hints at all of what the X stands for. I make sure our girls know the actual history of Christmas, but it’s not a holiday here; it’s more like Valentine’s Day. (In fact, She Who Must Be Obeyed will be working tomorrow.) It’s mostly an excuse to put up lights and buy cake.

Speaking of cake, I’m also bothered that everyone asks me what kind of cake I ate at Christmas when I was growing up. I tell them I didn’t eat cake and they give me skeptical looks and go “really?” as if I’m lying to them. Eventually I go all Grinch meets Frank Booth and say “Christmas cake? F@#k that sh#t! Pecan pie!” This surprises many of my Japanese friends. (Remind me again: why don’t I get invited to parties?)

The final thing that bothers me about Japanese Christmas is the constantly played, yet limited array of Christmas pop songs including the shockingly inappropriate “Last Christmas” by WHAM!

Last Christmas:
I gave you my heart
But the very next day you gave it away.
This year
To save me from tears
I’ll give it to someone special.

That puts you right in the Christmas spirit, eh? (It’s right up there with singing “I Will Always Love You” and “My Heart Will Go On” at a wedding.) Then we get Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” a few thousand times and John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” several hundred times. There are a few good Japanese Christmas tunes and a couple inexplicable ones. Kaela Kimura’s “A Winter Fairy is Melting a Snowman” is especially creepy as all it does is repeat the title endlessly.

That said, the girls are still young enough to enjoy Christmas and it’s a nice pause before the onslaught of beer and food at the in-laws (more on that in another post).

Bah! Humbug.

Here is Not Like There or Over There

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Since I’m now 48, I’m pretty sure there are places in Tokyo it’s not legal for me to go.

One of those places is Shibuya. Shibuya is the center of youth culture and Kawaii culture in Japan. The 109 building is the center of women’s/girls fashion and I’m pretty sure there’s a permanent restraining order for men over a certain age as there’s no reason for men to go in there other than for nefarious purposes. I’m pretty sure I’d be arrested if I went in there.

The different regions of Tokyo, like most major cities, have different personalities. I think what sets Tokyo apart is that the different personalities can be reached on one train line, the Yamanote line which runs a circle around Tokyo.

Today I started in Ginza which is the Beverly Hills/Rodeo Drive region of Tokyo and which, until recently, had the most expensive piece of property in the world. It is the land of Bulgari and Tiffany and Prada and Japanese brands like Mikimoto. (It also has Ito-ya, one of the best stationery shops in the world.)

A few stops away is Akihabara, which is the tech-geek section of Tokyo. It’s the place where you see sweaty men in t-shirts carrying laptop bags as they buy computer parts and wander around anime and comic book shops. It’s also the region where Maid Cafes are popular.

Near Shibuya is Harajuku which is famous for CosPlay and Dancing Elvises (Elvi?). It has parallel streets that cater to different groups. Takeshita Street is the center of what’s cool and stylish. Where Shibuya is cute and young, Takeshita street is edgier and a little more sexy and artistic. One block away is Omotesando which is another, slightly cooler version of Beverly Hills.

Shinjuku is all about department stores and shopping and skyscrapers. The East side is different than the West side, but I like both a lot.

I ended the day in Ikebukuro, which does the difficult job of mixing youth culture with adult culture. It has game centers and stores and art centers and it’s one of the few places where you see mothers and fathers and groups of high school boys and girls roaming around. It’s also one of the few areas that feels like a college town.

Tokyo is not what I’d call coherent, but it’s a lot of fun. If you go to the right places.

Some Assembly and Swearing Required

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I am at war with Apple. They don’t know it yet, but I am.

Going to war with Apple is not easy as the droves of cultists, er, fan-persons strike back quickly and without mercy, after a period of denial and attempted persuasion. In fact I can almost hear them whispering in my ear as I write this. (It’s not a bug; it’s a feature.)

Part of this is that, despite having an Android phone and a strong dislike for iTunes (It’s not a bug; It’s a feature.) I like the iPod touch and find it the easiest way to acquire podcasts. I also have a couple Japanese language dictionaries I’ve already paid for and that Android doesn’t have a clear alternative for. (See, told you Apple was better. We love JOBS!)

The problem is, my eight year old 2nd generation iPod touch (My goodness, man, what is this, the dark ages?) has finally begun to show its age via headphone jack problems and on/off button problems. (It’s the Sleep/Wake button, moron. Jobs is disappointed in you. Oh, and it’s not a bug; it’s a feature.) Because of this, I bought a 5th generation iPod touch yesterday. (Good for you. Jobs will be with you, always.)

Unfortunately, I’ve encountered a couple problems. (They are not bugs; they are features!) First, I had to install a new version of iTunes as the squirrels powering my old version didn’t like working for the new iPod. (No animals were harmed during the upgrade of this iTunes. Right?) After that, my new iPod, after a deceptively good start, suddenly got the Apple equivalent of the blue screen of death when it told me to connect to iTunes even when I was connected. (It’s not a bug; it’s a feature.)

I tried every piece of advice Apple customer service and a couple internet cranks–but I repeat myself–gave me. (Blasphemer.) I rebooted it; I reset it; I reset it again; I tried it on a different computer; I lit a candle near it; I sacrificed a chicken for it; I sold my soul to some guy named Timmy; but I still get the “connect to iTunes” error. (And now you know A LOT about how to factory reset your iPod. See, it’s not a bug; it’s a feature!)

Now I have to wander down to an Apple Store and face the cult, er, customer service in person. If they can’t get it working, it’s back to the store it came from.  My biggest problem then will be deciding to get a new iPod, or switch completely to Android. (Shame. Shame. Shame.)

I’m generally brand loyal, but if a brand becomes more trouble than it’s worth, I have no problems moving on. That’s one of my features. (It’s a bug.)

 

The Great Big House of Stuff

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Today I got to go to one of the most dangerous places in the world and managed to spend less than I’d planned.

Because the trains were finally working normally (more or less) I managed to get down to Tokyo and do some Christmas shopping. My store of choice, when electronics are involved anyway, is Yodobashi Camera in Akihabara, which is an eight story (plus at least one basement level) Mecca of gadgets cameras and stuff. It is to camera what Gart Brothers in Denver used to be for sporting goods.

My favorite YC branch is actually in Shinjuku. It’s spread out over several buildings and has one six floor building with nothing but cameras and camera stuff. (In fact, you could supply an entire photography business, complete with old school darkroom equipment, simply by starting at the top floor and moving down one floor at at time.) The main store is three buildings connected by a maze of narrow halls and short stair cases where the floors don’t quite match.

Unfortunately, the Shinjuku branch, for all its creepy charm, is a difficult place to actually shop, especially as its layout is confusing to the employees too. YC Shinjuku is better for getting lost whilst window shopping than for Christmas shopping. The YC branch in Akihabara, on the other hand, is well laid out and bright and, for the most part, the employees know where everything is. If you get hungry, it has restaurants on the 8th floor.

Unfortunately, the things I wanted were on different floors and I had to make my purchases in the correct order to take advantage of the credit points earned from the purchases. I paid cash and started with the items that gave the most points (10% of purchase price) and then worked my may to the ones that only paid 5% or 1%. This helped me pay down the larger ticket item.

Now II have to hide stuff for a week.

The gifts themselves shall remain a secret. All I shall say is tablets and games. (Oh, and a new iPod touch for me.) At least that’s the start.

Christmas Can Wait for Karma and Attitude

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Today I started to go Christmas shopping, but the the Japanese train system wouldn’t let me. Then a couple eye rolls from a teenaged girl made me reconsider Christmas all together.

I think that’s called karma.

My plan was to leave the house at 9:30 and go shopping for the bigger ticket items and then sneak them back in the house. However, our oldest was feeling under the weather (thanks to a headache) and it was decided she should stay at home to rest. (Not decided by me, I should add.) Despite this, my trip to Tokyo was cleared because although She Who Must Be Obeyed would be out in the morning, she’d be back by lunch.

I ended up leaving the house around 10 and heading to the station. As soon as I reached the station street, I knew there was a problem as lines of people were gathered in front of the station. A sign in front of the ticket gates explained there’d been an accident involving a person (suicide) and that the trains had stopped just 11 minutes before.

Having been through this before, I knew nothing would happen for at least an hour and a half. (After a suicide and/or accident, the police stop the trains until they can conclude an initial investigation and clean up some of the mess.)

I went home and thought about going out later and then decided that tomorrow would be better as everyone would be back in school and sneaking things in would be easier.

Then, during the evening, our oldest decided to have several “Teenager Moments” involving selective hearing, selective memory, stubbornness, denial attitude and eye rolls. As a result, her Christmas present may simply be the return of her Nintendo 3DS. As I like to point out to her, usually after an eye roll, if she thinks I’m annoying now, she has no concept of how annoying I can actually be when I want to. I even make sport out of it. Just ask my students.

If you’re keeping score: My leaving late caused me to delay departure which caused me to miss the last moving trains which caused me to delay the shopping trip which led eye rolls and attitude which is making me double check the naughty list and rethink the shopping trip altogether. That’s definitely karma.

Bah humbug.

Back to Back Atom to Atom

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I’ve lived in Japan long enough to know that I was in trouble and about to suffer.

Although Japan has an excellent train system, when things go wrong they go wrong in a painful way. This morning, thanks to data delivered to my TV via the new terrestrial digital system, I saw that the train line I use every day was delayed but running. I was worried but hopeful because I wasn’t leaving right away.

As I approached the station, I could see the entire platform was packed with men and women in suits. If I’d been smart, I’d have called in sick right then and there, but instead I had a moment of grown up responsibility and decided it was best I go to work.

In the station, the crowd was organized into neat rows. One thing impressive about Japanese trains is when the door location is marked on the platform, you can be certain that’s where the train will stop. If the driver misses, he backs up until the train is in the right position.

Today, as the first train arrived, I could see it was already crowded but was impressed that half the people on the platform managed to fit on it. This is partly because the Japanese are so desperate to get to work that they want to get on the first train available, even if it’s already full. The second train was also crowded and the other half of the people managed to fit on it. I waited for the third train and was pleased I could see actual bare floor when the doors opened.

Unfortunately, it took 15 minutes to travel two stations (which usually takes five minutes) and when we arrived at the second station, half the population of the Earth (more or less) was waiting on the platform and most of them squeezed on my train.

If you’ve ever been in a concert crush or a football crush or gone shopping for the latest gizmo on Black Friday you can get some sense of what it was like in the train (minus asshole reporters looking for trouble). We weren’t shoulder to shoulder; were were pressed atom to atom. (Technically true so shut up Niel deGrasse Junior High.)

I ended up squeezed against several people and the entire time was happy I was tall, especially when I saw the top of the head of some poor woman caught in the middle of the crush. Eventually, I was forced onto one foot and could feel my leg and knee straining against the crush.

After 20 minutes of crush, I finally arrived at my station and then had to zig-zag and force my way through the people on the platform in order to get out.

I’ve probably caught something and I’ve clearly done something to my knee. And this wasn’t even all that bad. I’ve had worse train rides.

 

Rock Paper Scissors Hammer Helmet Pain

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After you’ve been in Japan a while you discover, much to your surprise, that the game Rock, Paper, Scissors is a martial art and that you suck at it.

The Japanese even give it a name: Janken (pronounce like John Ken) which ranks it up there with Karate and Judo. In the West we merely describe the basic parts. If we did the same with Karate and Judo in the West, Karate would be “punch kick throw” and Judo would be “try to grab uniform, try to grab uniform, grab uniform, throw, argue with referee”. (Something like that.)

The basics are the same: rock beats scissors beats paper beats rock in that endless Mobius strip of winning and losing. The players start with a similar gesture, but whereas in the West we say something like “Rock, Paper, Scissors 1-2-3” the Japanese have a chant that translates to “First we are stones.” Then they say “JohnKen pone” and throw rock, paper or scissors. Draws get another chant which translates to roughly “Looks like a tie!” with the new throw happening on “tie”.

At this point, however, once the basics are mastered, the martial art moves to the black belt level. On a one on one level, the Japanese add another move. The winner points at the loser and says “Look this way”. On “way”, the loser turns her head as the winner points left, right, up or down. If the loser looks the same way the winner points, it’s another loss.

From this point, the martial art moves on to the multiple black belt level with group “Janken”. The most I’ve ever seen play at once is 10 people. They form a circle and start playing and they are so good at they can figure out in moments who has lost. I tried it once, got yelled at for slowing down the process and just gave up. I was like “To hell with this. I don’t want the last cookie anyway.”

Finally, the Japanese add a bit of the old ultra-violence to the martial art (which is what makes it martial). In the most famous version, the winner tries to pick up a plastic hammer or paper tube and hit the loser whilst the loser attempts to pick up a helmet or bucket and cover his head. It looks something like this: (I suspect this was happening in either math or English class.)

I’ve learned a few tricks in my years in Japan and can hold my own, especially if I’m playing best three out of five, but I still avoid making any big decisions this way.

 

Fat Men In Diapers Slapping Each Other

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Soon after I got to Japan, my favorite sport to watch involved mostly naked men trying to push each other out of a dirt ring. This is a normal thing for most non-Japanese after they arrive in Japan.

Although almost no one watches it anymore, Sumo is still considered Japan’s national sport. I remember seeing it once on Wide World of Sports way back in the 70’s and maybe once on ESPN back when it was desperate to show any sport it could find. However, I never understood it and only had vague memories of it.

However, it’s very common for newcomers to Japan to suddenly stumble across a tournament  (called a basho) on TV soon after they arrive–Basho are held every two months in the odd-numbered months–and to become fans.

At first you’re kind of amused and watch Sumo with the same glee you watch the aftermath of a train wreck. (Oh, like you don’t.) After a while, you begin to understand the rhythm’s of the sport, despite it being formal to a fault. It’s no joke that the preliminaries to a bout–which involve clapping, salt throwing and spitting–typically take longer than the bout. That said, I’ve seen more experienced wrestlers (called Rikishi) psyche out their younger opponents during the preliminaries and either put them off their game or trick them into mistakes.

I mostly got interested because when I first got to Japan, there were a few US-born rikishi in the higher ranks and it was easy to find the matches with English commentators who helped explain the sport. It was also fun to watch the tinier rikishi throw around the giant rikishi. I still remember 633 pound (287 kilogram) Konishiki getting slung around by the much smaller Mayanoumi.

Eventually I became a sumo snob and could arm-chair quarterback (so to speak) a match with the best of them. “The Yokozuna Grand Champion shouldn’t win with those tricky spin moves at the edge. He should be winning going forward.” (For the record, that is actually true. The Powers What Are in Sumo look at quality of wins and not just number of wins, although the latter should always be high.)

Then one day I just stopped watching it.

For a lot of reasons my interest in sumo went the way of some of my past collections. The formality and unwillingness to change had made it boring. Also, I was working a lot and the evening match summaries had been moved to late night/early morning. As a result, I lost interest in the sport and to this day don’t follow it, except to see who the latest foreign-born Grand Champions are.

Oh, and to see what the latest scandal is.

 

 

Sticky Floors for Algernon

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It’s been said that a bad dress rehearsal leads to a good opening night. Whoever said that never had to deal with a sticky floor on opening night.

A couple hundred years ago when I was still in graduate school, I took part in the play Flowers for Algernon (based on Daniel Keyes’ Novel.) I portrayed one of the doctors (although I don’t remember if I was Dr. Nemur or Dr. Strauss. I think I was Strauss.)

The production was directed by a fellow graduate student who was submitting it as part of his Master’s degree requirements. However, he had a couple handicaps. First, there were other major productions going on meaning the acting pool at Kansas State U had been spread thin and 2) he wasn’t particularly well liked in the department which thinned down the acting pool even more. (That’s how I was able to get a substantial part.)

As a result, he had lots of first time actors, including the lead actors, and a cast that was much bigger than it needed to be. This meant he had to spend a lot of time doing “trust” activities and exercises that got us working together as a team whilst simultaneously trying to teach the bulk of the cast how to act.

A few never quite got it down. One woman had one line “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes” but could never get the inflection down. It always came out as “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my OWN eyes.” (As opposed to someone else’s?)

A lot of stage acting is based on listening and being in the moment. Although you practice lines and blocking, the way a person delivers a line can change the entire scene. If you’re expected to have an angry reaction to an angry line, but the other person says their line calmly, you have to react the scene you’re in, not the scene you practiced. If you don’t, it looks weird to the audience. You have to simultaneously know what you’re supposed to do but can’t anticipate what you’re going to do. When it works, it’s brilliant and you see why people like acting.

However, as a group we didn’t work together very well and things didn’t look good. I didn’t even tell my family about the play because I expected a disaster.

Then, oddly, the disaster came, but it actually kind of worked out.

On opening night, as we prepared to go on, we were informed that the stage manager had made a huge mistake. He’d used glossy black paint to prepare the stage instead of matte black paint. This made the stage sticky. As we walked we made ripping-Velcro noises and if we stood in place our shoes stuck to the stage making quick exits difficult. However, in the spirit of “the show must go on” we were told to make the best of it.

The results were great. We started cutting out our blocking which mean we had to listen and observe and basically be in the moment. I remember one scene where I was supposed to turn away from a character then turn back and deliver a line. Instead, since my shoes were stuck to the floor, I stayed facing her and changed the way I spoke instead.

Audience members from the department told us we were the most focused cast they’d ever seen. It felt great on stage, too.

Unfortunately, the next night the stage was back to normal and we went back to being ordinary.