Category Archives: Random

1117 YoHa 39 37

One of the curses of Japanese is that every letter and every number has multiple ways it can be pronounced but only one pronunciation is correct. That curse is also one of the fun things about Japanese.

This is called Goroawase and is often used to make phone numbers or tell jokes.

Warning: the next few paragraphs involve something resembling math.

The number 1, for example, can be pronounced “ichi” (as in “Ichiro” or “number one son”); i (as a long “e”); hito; hitotsu; or wan (as in “one”). The number “2” can be pronounced eight different ways, but for today’s purpose we’ll only use “ni” (as in the Knights Who Say Ni). The number 9 has five pronunciations, but for today we’ll use only “ku” (as in “coo coo”). When you put it all together, you can get puns. November 29, for example, is “Good meat day” because 1129 is “ii  ni ku) (ee knee coo) or “good meat”. If you say it European style you get “niku ii” or “Meat Good” which shows one of the failures of the European system.

My birthday then becomes “Veeery Good Day” Because with 1117 you have “i i i” (a stretched “good”) and “na” (pronounced with the “a” as in “father”) which is used for emphasis. But if you do it European style you get “Na iii” or “Noooooo”, confirming the failures of the European system.

My age, 48, becomes “YoHa” which isn’t funny at all. (It could also be “shiba” which also isn’t funny.)

Then you get more common jokes. 39 is “san” “kyu” or “Thank you”, which is very common in texting and social media. You also get 37 (mi na) or “everyone”.

The title of this post is a code that means Veeeery Good 48 Thank You, Everyone.

At this point, it’s bed time, so I best say “It’s time 43252 bed” or (It’s time for me to go to bed).

Great International Customer Service Sight Unseen

As I’ve written before, I’m a fountain pen fanatic. I’m also the kind of guy who clings to things long past their “best used by” date.

However, this past year I began replacing my old pens–one of which creaks when I write and one of which is corroding–with new ones that I hope will last as long as my old ones. This has sent me to Kickstarter for a pen from Scotland and one from Arizona based Karas Kustoms, which is one part machine shop, one part pen maker. I also ordered one from Edison Pen Co., an Ohio pen maker I first saw on Etsy several years ago before they became much bigger and better.

My problem is, if I buy things from outside of Japan, customer service becomes an issue. Anything that goes wrong becomes an arduous and expensive process of mailing and remailing and postage and filling out customs forms. This has been an issue the past few days, but I got excellent results that are worth writing about.

I recently got a 2014 Glenmont from Edison Pens as part of a special group purchase the company arranges every year (and as my birthday present). Once I got it, I sat down to put ink in it and start using it.

I filled the converter with ink and attached it to the housing and started to push some ink into the nib. A few minutes later I had a lot of ink on my hands and none in the nib. I tried dunking the nib in the ink and drawing it into the pen. I ended up doing a lot of twisting but got no ink in the converter.

The converter didn’t seem to be sealing to the nib housing and whatever I did I ended up with ink on my fingers.

I contacted Brian Gray at Edison Pens and he responded quickly. He then had the unfortunate job of diagnosing a pen problem in Japan sight unseen. I followed his suggestions and then discovered a hole where no hole should have been and sent a picture of it. He realized they’d attached the housing for a different kind of pen and immediately shipped me the correct version.

The best part is, except for a short wait, it’s the same service I’d get if I still lived in the USA. Unfortunately, it’s got me thinking about what the 2015 limited edition will be…that said, I actually haven’t had a chance to write with my new pen yet, so maybe I’d better wait before thinking about 2015 too much.

Side Note: if you like classic fountain pens, I recommend you check out Edison Pen Co. If you like a more machined look and steam-punkish pens, check out the Karas Kustoms INK and the Namisu Nexus.

The Ugliest and Most Expensive is Always the Fit

Every now and then I think Cody Lundin has the right idea and that I should just walk around barefoot. But I only think that when I try to buy shoes here in Japan.

Oddly, despite my height (and on occasion my weight) I can buy most of my clothes here in Japan. I have to watch out for sleeve and trouser leg length, but otherwise, except for jackets and coats, clothes shopping isn’t that much trouble.

There is, however, apparently a law in a room somewhere in Japan that declares that no Japanese foot shall be longer than a size 11 US. Unfortunately, I wear a size 12 1/2, which basically means I have to buy a size 13. (Yes, I pretty much resemble a tall person wearing short skis once I have my shoes on.)

For many years I still held out hope that I could find shoes my size in a regular shoe store but my hopes were dashed around 98% of the time. I took this to mean I have a 0% chance of finding reasonably priced shoes that fit. (2% totally equals 0%. Look it up.)

In most cases, the only shoes I could find that fit were either 1) ugly 2) expensive or 3) ugly and expensive. I remember looking around one store and then asking the clerk for certain shoes and being rejected every time. I finally asked if he had anything in a size 30 (my size in Japan) and he frowned a bit and then led me to a pair of silver and purple quilted Nike high-tops. They were so bright I’m pretty sure they could be seen from space. Since then I’ve learned that, in every shoe store, the ugliest and most expensive shoes will always fit me.

There are, however, a few stores that cater to large feet, but this creates a series of dilemmas:

1) The main store I use, Big-b, (link is Japanese) has an odd selection and can be expensive, especially for formal shoes. I not only have to pay a lot, I have to travel to Tokyo.

2) Buy the ugly shoes and a can of spray paint.

3) Order from the USA, but run the risk of buying shoes that don’t fit. This means I’m limited to brands I know have consistent sizes–Rockport, for example–which means I have to pay a lot for the same-old boring look. I also have to do some math.

4) Keep wearing a pair shoes until they are falling apart and held together with duct tape and super glue and buy shoes the next time I visit the USA. Unfortunately I’ve been told this doesn’t look very professional and can be rather stinky.

Every time I visit the USA, I come back to Japan with several pairs of shoes. Someday the customs guy is going to accuse me of being a shoe salesman.

The Unbearable Crowdedness of Lights

‘Tis the season to be wary, at least if you’re shopping in downtown Tokyo, are in a hurry and value all of your toes/both feet.

The reason you have to be afraid is now that Halloween is over and done (and we are waiting for the inevitable sales on Halloween candy) the season of Christmas lights has begun.

Although Japan is a nominally Buddhist and/or Shinto country, no one is particularly religious. They also have a Labor Thanksgiving Day, but it’s not that important of a holiday. However, the Japanese love an excuse to go out and do something that seems as if it’s important and counts as actually doing something. The result is impressive displays of Christmas lights (called “illuminations” here) that attract droves of young couples and photographers and families.

Omotesando's Illuminations and a bunch of cars.

Omotesando’s Illuminations and a bunch of cars, circa 2011. Taken from bicycle parking near a “no standing” sign.

Some of the illuminations occupy entire streets and are made up of a series of arches that require the viewers to look up to enjoy them. The problem is, that when everyone is looking up, no one is actually watching where they are going and this, kids, is when people get bumped, toes get crushed, feet get mangled and tempers get short. (Happy Holidays Indeed!)

The other problem is that, especially in the areas where you have to pay to see the illuminations, the operators close the streets and pack in as many people as they can which means all you can really do is walk through the illumination without stopping. This means you can see the illuminations; you just can’t enjoy them.

Random lights and decorations.

Random lights and decorations on Ometesando, circa 2011.

Our neighborhood is often decked out with lights, too.

The other interesting thing is how superficial it all is. It’s mostly an excuse to sell LEDs and draw people downtown during cold weather.

The day after Christmas, it all goes away and Japan gears up for the New Year’s holiday, which is one of it’s most important times of year (and the season in which Groupon committed business suicide, but more on that in another post).

Bah humbug.

The building is almost more impressive than the trees.

The building is almost more impressive than the trees. Circa 2011

 

 

International Financial Speculation on a Small Scale

Note to family and friends: With a weak yen, it’s a great time to visit Japan.

Every country, for the most part, is trying to ruin their currency. Unfortunately Japan has momentarily succeeded.

First you have to understand that when you move to a foreign country you are given a handful of funny looking bits of paper they call “local currency”. The problem is, you have no frame of reference for it and your brain immediately defaults to your home currency. I remember during our orientation in Tokyo that speakers would describe something as 20,000 yen and we newbies would be like “whaaasat?” and they’d say that’s about 180 dollars and then the people from the British Isles and/or Australia would be like “whaaasat?”

Once you learn the money, it becomes second nature and then you give a talk to newbies and they go “whaaasat?” when you mention a computer costs 90,000 yen. However, except for that case, you don’t even think much about the dollar or pound value. You just live and use the local currency.

However, if your goal is to send money back to your home country, you immediately become a minor currency speculator. You analyze whether or not you should send your 200,000 yen home now when it’s worth 1,800 dollars or wait and risk the yen weakening and your 200,000 being worth only 1,700 dollars. But if the yen strengthens, your 200,000 yen is worth 1,900 dollars.

This is important because your salary never changes but its value in your home currency can change a lot, as can your bragging rights. When I first came to Japan I had a 300,000 yen per month or 3,600,000 yen per year salary that didn’t change for three years. This is how the value in dollars changed each year. (I’m including the value when I finished that job in 1999.)

1996: $34,286 per year
1997: $30,000 per year
1998: $27,692 per year
1999: $35,643 per year

Just three years ago that same salary would have been $47,368.

The other thing you become aware of is why countries are trying to ruin their currencies: Stuff. By weakening your currency you increase exports (albeit by driving up inflation and making your country a crappy place to do business but at least someone’s getting rich).

As an expatriate, though, you get really good at price comparisons and adding in tax and shipping to decide if buying local is better or if importing is worth the money, the effort and the wait. For example, three years ago if you wanted to buy a laptop and the price was $1,000 in the USA and 100,000 yen in Japan, it would be worth the time, effort and wait to import to Japan because $1,000=75,000 yen, a savings of 25,000 yen or $328.

Now, however, that same $1,000 laptop would be 115,000 yen to import but only 100,000 yen to buy in Japan.

A couple years ago, I purchased a couple bags from an online retailer here in Japan. Soon after I made the order the yen started to get weak and the retailer cancelled most of my order. I suspect they were importing products from the USA and taking advantage of the margin they got by selling in yen. Then, suddenly the margin disappeared along with my order.

Confused? Welcome to my world.

Edited on 11/8-2014 for clarity.

Glad to be Here When That is on Over There

One of the advantages of living overseas is that I’ve managed to miss every US election since 1992. (Well, with one mid-term election in 1994 as an exception.)

I’ve voted in most of the Presidential elections since I turned 18, although I don’t have the fetish for voting that a lot of people do. If you don’t like anyone running, what is the point of voting except religious ritual or a twisted electoral version of Saw? (Here are your choices: You can vote to be torn apart by wolves or picked apart by crows. If you don’t vote, you can’t complain about which one tears you apart. Make your choice.)

One of the things I like about being overseas during US elections is the merciful lack of advertising–both official and disguised as “news”. I’ve not seen any attack ads and I don’t get any spin from talk shows. Instead I get raw data from lots of sources and then get to sit back and wonder why anyone ever thought Wendy Davis was viable as anything other than shoe sales and why anyone thinks the fat guy from New Jersey is a Republican.

It has also been interesting to see the “Wow He’s So Cool!” attitude toward the current US President fade in Japan. I’m no longer asked “How much do you like Obama?” and then have to say “A pox on both their houses” and then have to explain what pox and which houses and who they are.

I do, on occasion, especially during Presidential elections, find myself explaining the difference between parliamentary systems and the US system and the difference between first-past-the-post elections versus proportional systems and having set elections versus “Hey, everyone/no one likes me! Let’s have an election RIGHT NOW.”

I also have to explain that money will not be removed from US politics so long as newspapers, radio and television get most of the advertising money that’s spent.

On occasion, though, I have to impose a cone-of-silence in which I refuse to discuss politics, especially at work. Talking/arguing about such thing is not something I normally like to do at work, but I once had a colleague from a Country That’s Not the USA (not a real place) with anti-Sarah Palin derangement syndrome. He had it so bad and came across as so smug that I actually found myself defending her even though, well, see “wolves” versus “crows” choice above.

Now I wait for the next Japanese election. Those involve vans with speakers and women with gloves. It only lasts 90 days or so, but those vans make them seem longer.

Busy is as Culture Does

Culture Day is one of the holidays in Japan where no one actually gets to rest.

Like all holidays in Japan, it is tied to the birth of an Emperor, in this case the Emperor Meiji who modernized Japan and crushed a rebellion of samurai by mistakenly having Ken Watanabe killed instead of Tom Cruise.

Overtime, Culture Day became, or at least Culture Day weekend, became the time when most schools host an annual Culture Festival/School open house in which 1) Everyone shows off the crappy art they’ve produced over the year; 2) someone gives a speech (someone always has to give a speech) and 3) the crappy boys rock band apparently issued to every school (because every school I’ve worked at has one) plays and everyone feels embarrassed for them and especially for their parents.

Teachers typically have a lot of extra work preparing for Culture Day as it’s one of the few days attended by large groups of parents. Therefore, since, well, crap rolls down hill, this means the students have a lot more work as they practice and prepare for the festival.

Even if you’re not part of the Culture Festival, you may still be busy. Many sports clubs have their annual tournaments on Culture Day, including my karate style. In fact, when we meet for our semi-annual tournament, there are usually three other tournaments, including Kendo and Judo and another karate style taking place in the other arenas as well as a Japanese archery tournament in the archery range. (Someday, i want to see a pervert try to grope someone while that crowd is waiting around for the arenas to open.)

This, of course, means extra practice and sacrificing a day off. One year, I took part in four different events in our style’s tournament (kata, fighting, bo kata and defense against groups) and by the end of the day I was so tired that actually going to work suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

That’s pretty tired.

Standing Exciting Sitting Boring

Today I watched a brass band play and had flashbacks to high school.

Our oldest’s school hosted a bazaar and band performance that was, in a word, bizarre. First, the PTA, including She Who Must Be Obeyed, set up a used goods flea market inside the school dojo. They chose the dojo because it offered limited access and the best security. They then handed out numbers to interested parties and (via the corruption of easy access) to family members, including our youngest.

When the bazaar opened, we had to stand in numerical order and then change shoes and raid the used goods. At the same time, a group of people with the next 50 numbers was lined up to get in and She Who Must Be Obeyed and other PTA members were selling hot dogs, fried chicken, fried noodles and doughy octopus balls (which sounds funnier than takoyaki).

The bazaar was scheduled to open at 9:30 a.m. However, at 9:00 a.m., the Junior High Brass Band put on a show that included comedy sketches and, well, we’ll get to that.

Because She Who Must Be Obeyed was busy with bazaar, Yours Truly was handed our youngest, a video camera and voluntold to record the show and watch our youngest whilst simultaneously making sure our youngest didn’t lose our number 47 (which by colossal coincidence is my age for about 15 more days).

The band performance opened with a comedy routine that mimicked most Japanese comedy duos and teams (lots of slapstick based on puns). The performance was actually pretty good–which given how much they practice they’d better be–but the trumpet player clearly got nervous during her solo at the beginning of the less than rousing, obligatory performance of Let it Go. As a former trumpet player, I felt her pain (I also felt she could have used some vibrato).

The show featured, though, one of the more puzzling things about being in band: having to stand up at random times to seem cool/add excitement. I remember having to do this in both Hayden, Colorado and at my high school in Kansas. In some cases, during a Glen Miller song, we’d have to stand up and swing our horns left and right which actually made a kind of sense (swing tunes, swing horns).

It was the random standing that got to me. I understand if a soloist needs to stand up because then the audience knows who is playing but I don’t understand an entire section standing up. It’s as if the director thinks the music is boring so she makes a section stand up and suddenly, like magic, the music is exciting.

Try randomly standing up and sitting down during a conversation once and see what kind of excitement that adds to the conversation.

In some cases, one section stands up and then another stands up in front of them in a kind of dueling sections that pisses off the parents trying to get clear video of their oldest daughter playing flute and piccolo.

In the end, the band was asked for an encore (which is obligatory and involves more standing) and then they said goodbye to audience on the way out.

Next year, if our oldest is still playing, I’m going to try to get the audience to stand up at random times. Won’t that be exciting?

Ask and Ye Shall Receive Surprise and Befuddlement

When I was in Albania I saw an American professor made speechless by an audience question. Everyone in the audience who’d been to a US university was speechless too.

For reasons I don’t get, students in the USA are taught that the most important part of a speech is the questions after. (In Japan, this even caused an acquaintance of mine from the UK to say “here come the Americans” when a speaker asked the audience for questions and several people headed to the mics.)

The theory behind questions seems to be that the person asking the question will somehow be able to either 1) coax an interesting answer out of a boring speaker; 2) give the speaker a chance to expand on a point; 3) trap the speaker with a clever question.

Unfortunately, what usually happens is the the questioner

1) repeats part of the speech creating a “no shit, Sherlock” look on the face of the speaker:
Early in your speech, in the second paragraph in fact, right before you compared bananas to eagles, you said that apples are not oranges because they come from different trees and therefore are essentially different races of fruit…etcetera etcetera. (Eventually the questioner gets to a question heard by the handful of people still awake.)

2) attempts to show off intelligence by becoming incoherent and jargony:
Hobart’s stringent treatment of the relationship between the dialogic materialism of materiality and the linguistic construction of the cisgendered natural jouissance of the Bullcrappian critique of capitalist urmasculinity must be a model for future work in the field. What say ye?

3) attempts to trap a professional politician with a question the questioner thinks is original:
Isn’t it true that you and your actions were responsible for the crimes in Antwerp in 1997 that left 25 people dead and caused the collapse of the Belgian government and caused untold suffering in the Middle East? What say ye? (Politician’s answer: No. It isn’t true.)

(Author’s note: to the best of my knowledge, nothing actually happened in Antwerp in 1997.)

However, the question I heard in Albania was none of these. A Hemingway expert from Some University in the USA (not a real school) came to Albania and gave a lecture. The Albanians, hungry for something not on the official Communist reading list, crowded the small room.

To this day I don’t remember the subject of the lecture, although I do remember the professor was a nice guy and he was a friend of a friend. What I mostly remember is that one of our Peace Corps language teachers, a gentleman name Berti (the “e” has a long “a” sound as in “scare”) was called on to ask a question.

His question: How would your country be different if it had adopted Hemingway’s values?

We were all speechless, which is not normal for a roomful of academics. The question managed to be both different and topical. It was also simple to the point of being anti-academic and gave the professor a chance to shine.

Or it would have if he hadn’t been dumbstruck by the question.

He managed to mumble something about it being more manly or more macho or more people would go fishing and hunting or something and long for women who didn’t love them and then would get drunk and kill themselves with shotguns. (I might be misremembering that somewhat.)

After the lecture, I talked with my friend and the professor. He was in “I should have said” mode but he also knew he’d never get a question like that again. I knew I’d never hear a question that good again.

If You’re Crooked and You Know it Clap Your Hands

There are so many scandals involving political funds in Japan that politicians ought to just get together and admit that they have them. This would save a lot of time and effort.

What typically happens in Japan is that Some Politician or Other (not a real name) will be having a good career and then all of a sudden cross a magic line of public attention and popularity and suddenly it will be discovered that someone on the politician’s staff 1) accepted money from questionable sources 2) didn’t disclose all the money accepted 3) spent the accepted money on questionable things or 4) all of the above.

Even though, officially, the politician is not corrupt–I usually describe it as “I’m not a crook, but I hire a lot of them”– the politician apologizes for the trouble and resigns to take responsibility. Eventually, after a short time away from politics, the politician can return and resume a career. In fact, I would argue that having a political funds scandal is a rite of passage in Japanese politics.

This happened recently when Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry Yuko Obuchi, the daughter of the late former Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi and a rising star in the Liberal Democratic Party, (which, for the record is neither liberal nor democratic) was forced to resign after it was discovered that her staff had used political funds to purchase thousands of dollars worth of things, including make up.

Also, resigning was Justice Minister Midori Matsushima whose crimes, er, whose staff’s crimes included distributing paper fans with her image and policies on it to her supporters at a political rally, which apparently violates Japanese election law.

The funny part about all this is that there are very few things the political funds are spent on. The Japanese prefer loudspeaker vans that practically drive up to the front of your house to television commercials that you can turn off. In fact, to the best of my knowledge, any TV commercials are done by the party not the candidates.  Despite that, it’s important that money be collected for, um, something, retirement?

I’m still not sure.