smoking can be so cute

isn't this totally super? elegant women in thousand dollar outfits, young hipsters who know they are too cool, drunk salary-men, and I all use this delightfully dour duck's mouth as a final resting place for our cigarettes. it almost makes me cry.

ashtrays Originally uploaded by trevor23.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...

ippei kogeru
and hyaku kaiten
some men look like women and have better hair,
"wanko" means cute dog but sounds like "wanker"

Okay, I can't keep this up -- do you know how long that took?

--

the Toto washlet -- seat sanitizer, seat heater, bidet, hot air, flushing sounds

public toilets in Starbucks that are more luxurious than my first apartment

"How to wash your bottom"

the "man handbag" -- Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, straw, canvas -- it's all good!

"Your pleasure is my inconvenience"

chess boxing -- one round of chess, one round of boxing!

people on dates who spend the whole time text messaging other people on their cell phones

a video game where you take care of a puppy

whole department store floors of photo sticker machines

unrecognizable meat dishes

the ubiquitous cute pink bear that mauls a blonde gaijin -- kawaii!

Would our government, currently experiencing its terrible twos,

understand the significance of being confronted with a little old lady who shows you her 350 year old bonsai tree that was bequeathed to her through generations?

Today, we visited my mother's hometown,

Sugamo, to see my aunt and our old friend Kentarou. I should mention that everytime I tell a Japanese person that my mother is from Sugamo, I get a big chuckle and, loudly, the ubiquitious, "Heeeee?" This is because, as my mate Stephen pointed out, Sugamo is "Harajuku for old people."

People say that old folks are attracted to the fact that there are so many temples in Sugamo. Kinda similar to the old idea of finding religion because you're near the end of your life. It is really true -- there are so many little ancient people puttering around, and there's everything a little ancient person could want, like granny panty shops, shoes for 1000 yen, less traffic, and plenty of temple offering boxes to plunk your 10 yen into when you're hankering for some good fortune.

My dirty little secret is that I really like Sugamo. What's not to like? I mean, Sugamo is in Tokyo, on the famed Yamanote railway line -- 10 minutes from Shinjuku. There's never anyone at the station, so you can usually get a seat. It's super quiet, has plenty of delicious, cheap Japanese restaurants and very few annoying pachinko parlors, and is less expensive than the rest of Tokyo.

We met Kentarou at the station, along with the Horikawas, who met us there in case we needed some translation help (so thoughtful!). We then met up with my aunt, Kentarou's parents, and his wife Yuko and had lunch at a sugoi Japanese/French restaurant. Afterward, Kentarou took us to his new apartment to show us around. This apartment was amazing! Spare, simple penthouse space on the 5th floor, hardwood throughout, plenty of natural light, spiral staircase leading to a second floor living/kitchen area and deck.

Kentarou is an artist, but to make money he and his wife work in real estate law. Kentarou helped design the building, which houses his office on the first floor -- a faboo space with a whole glass block wall that allows in light resembling a shoji screen, industrial/autoshop style cabinets, and heavy polished steel doors. Kentarou, besides being kickass at art and design, is also one of the most courteous and sincere people I have the pleasure of knowing; in fact, everyone I ever introduce him to, Nihonjin or gaijin, always say the same thing -- "He's sooo nice!" It was so wonderful to see him -- married (and happy), successful, and still able to work on projects that feed his creative spirit.

We were happy to hear that today was the day for the Sugamo Bon Matsuri. Summer's matsuri are my reason for being. Sugamo's Bon Matsuri also involved my favorite summer festival pastime: traditional dancing accompanied by taiko. I love nothing more than to see all the brightly lit lanterns, smell all of the fantastic foods (today: okonomiyaki, takoyaki, and yakitori -- all cooked in sidewalk shanties), and see people of all ages in yukata and geta getting down circa the Edo period. Kentarou is great about cutting the rug matsuri-style, so Trevor, Yuko, and I joined him in our best imitation of the seasoned professionals surrounding us. Great fun.

Any crazy fashion today was overshadowed by the classy old ladies (and a Toshiro Mifune-like old man) in their beautiful, simple cotton yukata dancing long after young whippersnappers like us pooped out.

Did you know

that Japan has flesh-burrowing dust mites? We love those little guys!

Took the train to Inokashira Park

in Kichijoji today to play frisbee and check out the temple there. The temple was really refreshing, because it lacks the gateway of souvenir shops and isn't full of people. There wasn't a soul about while Trevor and I purified ourselves with water, dropped a coin in the offering box, banged the gong, and prayed for good fortune. There's a big pond there as well, and it was filled with various sizes of turtle, koi, and duck. Even better, the grounds are patrolled by giant mutant crows of the eyeball eating variety, so we spent a lot of time ogling them just out of eyeball's reach.

After we finished playing frisbee, Trevor and I took a breather over by a water fountain and watched a stoked kid who had caught a loach in the creek that runs through the park. He was pretty proud of himself, I think especially because there were two strange gaijin watching him the whole time.

The best fashion we saw today, courtesy of Kichijoji, Tokyo, Japan:

Male

20-ish. Tight black wifebeater, black terrycloth wristbands, black jeans with one leg bleached white. Optional accessory of tiny Japanese girlfriend tottering behind in ankle-breaker spike heels on cobblestone while programming cell phone was included.

50-ish. Spring green ponytail and bangs (real hair, I checked) and skintight denim bellbottom pants on the tiniest adult butt I've ever laid eyes upon.

30-ish. Mustard yellow Kangol cap, surfer shorts...and leather elfen shoes with the curled pointy toe.

20, maybe. El Debarge pencil moustache. Menudo haircut. Black muscle tee. OG white high top Vans. A classic.

Female

20-ish. Copper-colored superfro in pigtails. 5 earring holes of various stretch sizes up into the cartilage. Black acid-washed jeans and pink leg warmers (in July!). Brilliant.

30-ish. White Kangol cap. Chanel black and white houndstooth minidress and silver Chanel chain belt. Aviators. White spike heel sandals. White Hermes bag. It has been confirmed: yes, people really do dress like this on a hotter than hell Tuesday afternoon to shop for pickled vegetables.

You're just a slave to fashion, and everyone knows...

I was in Harajuku the other night after a show, and the scene was mad! You know those famous photos of the light changing at one of the gigantic Tokyo intersections? Well, it looked like that, but it was 1 a.m. It was as crowded, or more so, than during the day. It is nothing like being in the Mission or Castro or East Village or West Hollywood at 1 or 2 a.m. The vibe is unrecognizable. You feel like you don't have to get up the next morning (okay, well, I don't, but anyway...) or that time doesn't matter. The closest thing I can compare it to is Halloween in the Castro.

Oh, and the people watching and the fashion! Trevor and I often admire the fabulous Tokyo fashion with a mixture of bewilderment and envy. Bewilderment because some of the most god-awful stuff gets thrown together (My two favorite male ensembles: blue flowered pants/ blue flowered shirt/blue shoes/strategically texturized haircut; silver feather earring/terrycloth wristbands/super mullet/Gucci monogram cloth loafers); envy, because it works. I cannot count the times I've stopped at a shop and been this close to buying something and then realizing that if I even attempt to pull it off in the States I will be banished forever into the darkest pit of fashion hell.

Speaking of fashion hell -- today I was on the train and a really good-looking gaijin sat down across from me. He was your typical male specimen of English Teacher Americus : blonde/blue-eyed, decked out in khakis and a funky striped shirt that was a little too small. Teaching outfit trespasses are understandable and forgiven, but he was wearing those goddamn Gucci monogram cloth loafers! It really didn't fly, and it looked a little like one of those disasters (see above) that you can only wear in Japan (or L. A. -- maybe he's from L. A.). I think he knew it too (probably from my uncontrollable staring), because he got up and slinked away like a repentant label whore.

I was just about to step outside for an apertif, and

Egad! I was accosted by the biggest spider web I've ever seen -- three feet across and right in front of the sliding glass door. Smack dab in the middle was the most horrifying spider I have personally laid eyes upon. It, like most insects I've encountered in Nippon, was a full three times bigger than anything back home and had body armor and the steely-eyed resolve of something that will never be afraid of you. As I squealed like a little girl and ran for the camera, my new Australian roommate, Joel, who was sitting at the kitchen table, asked, "What, you don't have spiders like that in the U.S.?"

goddamnit no, we don't!

What do spiders like that eat? I just watched a show on National Geographic about spiders, and some of those things can suck down a field mouse -- just liquefy the organs with some venom, and tada! Joel said that he used to live in house where tiny spiders that could kill you with one bite were regular guests. He also lived in a different house where the backyard was infested with funneltrap spiders. I guess there were literally hundreds of spider holes. The landlord told him to avoid going in the backyard after dark! If this has taught me anything, it's that I've gotta toughen up for the next ice age or for the next comet that strikes the earth. Americans, especially those of us on the Coasts, are some of the biggest pussies! And why not? All we have to worry about are a few species of rattlesnake, the black widow, and the brown recluse -- and when was the last time you saw one of those? And our summers are a walk in the park compared with the free, 24 hour, oxygen-deprived sauna that passes for June-August in Japan.

However...

The Japanese culture is so about convenience. If you're hankering for hot bowl of curry and rice and a cold beer at 3 a.m. you can take a jaunt down the street and buy them both out of the same vending machine. This reliance on convenience could pose quite a problem in the event a major catastrophe destroys civilization as we know it; in fact, since some single Japanese men may starve to death if this occurs, and we may have a shortage of men to repopulate the earth. But I also heard that some Japanese scientists created an embryo out of two different female mouse ova, so maybe there's hope.

From Sonora to Shibuya

In a  city with 23 million people, you will never guess what happened to us.  We were walking on the street in Kunitachi and a Japanese guy stopped us and asked Trevor, in English, his name.  We thought it was weird, but then the recognition was almost instantaneous for all of us.  We had been stopped by our old friend Kaz who was an exchange student from the junior college we went to in my hometown (500 people).  We hadn`t seen him for 10 years!  And get this, he just happened to be in Kunitachi doing a delivery favor for a friend -- he actually lives and works in Ikebekuro, a good 45 minutes from Kunitachi with a train change.
 
When Kaz went to school with us, he lived in an A-frame in a nearby town called Sonora with 4-5 other skaters/snowboarders.  This house was known as "the A-frame" in the party circuit in Tuolumne County; in fact, we still refer to it as such when talking to anybody from Sonora who is that OG.  All the parties there were always totally wild, and more than once I witnessed a large appliance being thrown from the icy deck or a riot in the kitchen when the keg arrived.
 
Our best story about Kaz was the time he stopped for gas late at night and some gangster kids started calling him shit like "slant-eye."  Kaz didn`t  get upset, just minded his own business, UNTIL they spit on his car.  He told them to meet him around the corner after he paid for his gas.  Kaz told us that he was thinking to himself, what the hell should I do?  He had studied kickboxing, so the first thing he did when he came around the corner was crack the first guy he saw over the nose.  Blood went everywhere, and the other guys took off. 
 
Kaz is married now, with a 7 month old that weighs 10 kilograms!  We`re checking out his friend`s band tonight with him in Shibuya.   Crazy!
 

The experiment is over

Recently I was on Nada's blog, ululate.blogspot.com, reading of her experience in Japan; her description of eating a bowl of noodles is fantastic. She also mentioned how Japan anticipates a person's needs--"buffered, sweet, comfortable, happy!" This description perfectly captures this aspect of Japan. I think, that perhaps, this is also why Ammie and I have decided to return to the loving streets of Oakland. Oakland let's you run around by yourself, and when you trip and fall, it doesn't kiss you, but instead tells you to get up, brush yourself off, and get goin'. Yes, we have indeed decided to return. Japan is now more beautiful, because we know we are leaving--it's become a great honeymoon, now that we can distance ourselves from it.
 
Kunitachi--where we are staying--is incredible! The Kunitachi apartment situation is just what we needed to mend us after our -- to be quite honest -- somewhat heartbreaking decision to come back.　It`s quiet and private, but within 15 minutes on foot to the college town of Kunitachi. The town is beautiful, and it`s apparent that actual city planning has happened to make sure development doesn`t run amok. There are good record stores, a fantastic forest-like campus to explore, cheap groceries (that carry real cheese and proper bread!), and noodle shops. From what Stephen and Jeremy (our kickass guesthouse roommates from Scotland and Seattle, respectively) tell us, there are also 400 yen ($4) all you can drink bars. Scary, yet slightly inviting.

Mt. Fuji and an I.V. drip

We have been dead sick for the last few days. Horrible sore throats. We
experienced the Japanese medical system, and Trevor got an IV drip of antibiotics and nutrients for his sore throat!　　

We went to Mt. Fuji last week, which was super cool, but very touristy as it was the first day of climbing season. There's a vending machine at the summit. Weird, depressing, yet strangely Japanese.

We ate at the Horikawas' friend's restaurant, and had fat homemade gyoza and plenty of cold beer. Yum.

Friday we move to Kunitachi, near Tokyo, for a month. Trevor's job at Kichijoji fell through, but we didn't want to lose our 60,000 yen deposit ($600) so we're going to get out of the Horikawas' hair and chill in the city for a awhile. Trevor should be able to train in his martial art a lot, and we can check out all of Tokyo's glory. It's summer festival season, so Ammie is excited about checking out the parades, hanabi (fireworks) and traditional dancing.

We really have no idea how our internet access will go after we move to　Kunitachi, but
we'll try to keep y'all informed as much as possible.
　
In the meantime, Trevor will be checking out Chiba Berlitz to see how it goes. We're not sweating it -- if things fall into place, cool, if not, we'll have a great 3 month honeymoon in a beautiful country.

Night in a ryokan

We stayed in a traditional Japanese inn, a ryokan, the other night. It was so fabulous! We slept in a beautiful tatami room with sliding screens that opened into the garden. There was a hot spring bath (onsen) on site, and luckily there weren't many people around, so Trevor got to have his first Japanese hot springs experience. Most hot springs and public baths won't allow tattooed people in.

The onsen and ryokan is THE Japanese experience to have, in my humble opinion. After a good meal, you scrub down before entering a steaming, rock-lined hot spring for a long soak - or cooking, depending on the temperature that day. I really like to follow up with a cold plunge or at least a cold shower. Afterwards, you slip into a yukata (Japanese pajama), grab a couple cold beers, and head back to your room where you can enjoy the quiet garden before going to sleep on a Japanese futon. Ahhh.

I have eaten

more meat in the last month than in my entire lifetime...