Little Bro Part II

It was great to see Max, if only for a short while. We didn't really get much time for the typical touristy things (I tried to get Max into onsen, but the thought of getting naked with a bunch of Japanese dudes and sittin around somehow didn't appeal to him). Mostly he just got to see my everyday routine, which is pretty close to my life in America, except for more Japanese people, and in a different language, and actually completely different in almost everyway than my life in America. Zenzen chigau, yo!

The drinking age in Japan is 20-- seriously, Mom.

Turning Japanese

After a delayed flight, a missed connection, and a night alone at an Osaka hotel, Max finally arrived. We walked around Karato and ate sushi, typical Getsuyoubi style. Later that night we met up with Hisashi and Suzy in our favorite Kokura studio where we rocked a little "Patience".

We headed to the bar for a few drinks and a quick katana tutorial; one that Hisashi and Suzy would later come to regret...

america...fuck yeah!

It is a rare occasion that I am proud to be an American. I find myself constantly apologizing for our government's actions, trying to explain the difference between people and government, place and policy. I am especially embarrassed when I see the fucked up culture that we export to the rest of the world, translated into ridiculous Japanese gangster wannabes and Britney Spears clones. Kids trying to be hard because they think that that's how America is. McDonald's everywhere. Engrish taking over the Japanese language... I'm so sorry.
However, there are times that I am really proud of America; like when I find a western-style toilet after an entire day of popping a squat and rifling through my bag in order to find some advertisement tissue.
Tonight was one of those rare occasions. I was riding home from work at 9:30pm. There was an obasan in her sixties on the side of a main road with a flat tire. I slowed down, debating whether to help, but decided that a foreigner with poor Japanese skills would just frighten her and there were so many people around someone else was bound to come along to help. I parked my bike and went into the store to grab some water. When I returned she was still out there, alone. So, in broken Japanese I asked her if she needed help. She said no, she was okay, but being the obtuse gaijin, I didn't listen, I just changed her tire-no big deal. She was so shocked-I thought at first it was because I am a foreigner, but I realized it was because she fully expected to have to change the tire herself, unaccustomed to the kindness of strangers. She was so sweet and overly appreciative that I felt a little embarrassed and guilty. I rode away thinking about the all the times in America that I have had a flat tire or needed a jumpstart or something and inevitably someone, some stranger offers to help. It made me a little warm and fuzzy for America, gawd bless er.
So in honor of that good feeling for the home of the brave(maybe), I have made a list of ten things I love about America:

1. This American Life/Fresh Air
Ira Glass is so dreamy. He and Terry Gross are like an invincible public radio tag team that serve to keep me from ever being lonesome in Japan.

2. Diversity
I have officially become the spokesperson for the Kumbaya Foundation.

3. Basketball
While it is true that I got my ass handed to me on the court by some 15 year old Japanese girls in an ugly game at their jr. high school (those girls could ball!), there is no real competetive adult play that doesn't consist of mostly foreign players.

4. Tacos
Wait-they're Mexican. Close enough.

5. Beaches Without Trash
At least not as much trash as at Japanese beaches.

6. American Popular Music
Rock and Roll, Country, Pop, Folk, R and B, Soul, Funk, Punk, Post-Punk, Jazz, etc...

7. Shit, that's only six- I'll think of some more- probably.

yo la fukuoka

Saturday, I cut out of my last class half an hour early and shinkansened my way to Fukuoka for the Yo La Tengo show and to celebrate Marko and Sal's birthdays. Marko and Sal and I had been looking forward to the show for months. But the universe was conspiring against our big plans. Marko and Sal got lost on the top of Hiko-san and missed the show. Then they got chucked from an onsen because of Sally's tatoos. Poor dears. I was gutted but the show was just what I needed. Shoganai. Steph played the part of indierocker and joined me in my pursuit of the familiar. Later, as payback for her hard work, I agreed to go to a rock bar with a dj and endure Smashing Pumpkins and Nine Inch Nails and all the other music that Steph likes. The sweet boys at the bar made this endeavour completely enjoyable. Omoshiroi, ne.

Full of vodka, we roamed the streets of Tenjin searching for the missing. They were at a club that was playing techno and I had to sweet talk my way in. The incessant thumping was bringing me down, way down to a dark IcantbelieveyoumissedtherockshowandmademeleavethefunplaceIwassothatwecouldbeaurallyassualted kind of place. I found Sal at the bar and apparently the first thing I said to the birthday girl when I walked in was, "I am so fuckin bored!" Way to be an awesome friend, Emily. I was reunited with my birthday kids, however, and was willing to put up with the club(not without pouting, though)just to hang with them. The rest of the night consisted of us being exhausted, whining, an unfruitful mission to find a hotel, and finally parting ways at Hakata Eki-with me on a train to Shimonoseki, and those two sleeping on a cardboard box in the station. Best birthday ever!