A thought about live music in Japan:

Most popular music in Japan seems like it evolved from some imported type of music that was cross-bred with a unique Japanese sensibility to create something that sounds sort of familiar to a westerner, but still has that unmistakable stamp that says "Made in Japan." I suppose it's not unlike the feeling a person from France might get if they went to California and ate nouvelle-French food. Most of the key elements are there, but there is also some essential difference in execution that changes the final product, no matter how slightly. It's familiar, but changed somehow.

But it's not just the sound of the music that's altered, the reception of music by fans here is very different. The separations between styles seem to be more matters of fact and not sources for passionate disagreement or enforced separation. The differences in social situations between, say, punk rockers and rap fans in America in the 1980s just didn't exist here. And all the baggage that goes along with those differences is missing too. I am conditioned to expect that a person wearing ripped, thin leg jeans with a big belt, a leather jacket, boots and a shaggy haircut is probably a white guy. If it's in California, that white guy is probably from Anaheim. Or the kid wearing baggy jeans, basketball shoes, a sports jersey, baseball cap and a gold chain is probably Black, Hispanic, or a white kid from a well-to-do suburb.

But in Japan those aren't even options. Virtually everyone here is Japanese. And all the social forces, norms and tendencies that are carried with being a white guy from the suburbs or a Puerto Rican kid from midtown which would keep those two from hanging out together are non-existent here.

Here it is possible for a person to go to a a rock show one night, a techno DJ event another night, and see some of the same people at both places. Maybe the candy raver isn't moshing, and maybe the punk isn't getting that deep trance feeling of peace. love and so on, but they can cross over without too much trouble. It seems possible to like more than one thing here.

Of course, I am oversimplifying things, and have undoubtedly ignored any number of relevant societal factors. 'Cause I ain't a social scientist. I just happen to like being able to go to a rock show one night, and maybe a techno show another night, and not get hassled for not dressing like a rocker or a mod or a raver or a hipster or whatever. It's nice to have options.

Now, getting hassled for dancing like a rabid dog having a spastic fit... well, that's not gonna change no matter where you go.

One of the great things about living in another country is the chance to try new and interesting things. (And here you thought I just spent all my time in bars and complaining about politics.) For example, I recently had the pleasure of trying the Japanese culinary experience that is "kaiten-zushi."

"Zushi" being a phonetic change of "sushi," small pieces of seafood on vinegared rice, and "kaiten" meaning "circling on a conveyor belt."

That's right. I stayed still. The chef stayed still. The waiters stayed still. But little plates of sushi traveled around the restaurant on a converyor belt. If you wanted it, you picked it up and got charged by the plate. If you didn't want it, it kept traveling. And if no one wanted it, well, then that unloved little piece of sushi would just go around and around until one of the chefs decided to exercise a little mercy and send it to that great sushi bar in the sky. Or the trash bin in the back.

And to top it off? A set price per plate. You know exactly how much it's going to set you back based on the number of plates on the table. For you jokers still living in America and paying $3.00 a piece for marbled tuna that you have to wait for in a sushi bar crowded with west side yuppie scum, think about this: I could pay 100 yen (about 82 cents) for two pieces, and have it come to me.

Really low prices.
No obnoxious crowds.
AND THE FOOD RIDES AROUND ON A CONVEYOR BELT!
In your face, Santa Monica!

Of course, I am now an active and participatory contributor to the over-fishing of Earth's ocean resources. But at these prices, how could I possibly be a part of the solution?

I recently had a birthday. Due to a quirk of the calendar, my birthday tends to fall on days early in the week. Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays particularly (next Friday or Saturday birthdays: 2004, 2005 and 2010). So generally I don't do a lot on my own to celebrate it. But occasionally I'll get some things for my birthday that are particularly unusual. Like the time I got to buy dinner for two even though someone else had invited me.

(This is the point where I start complaining about some slight that happened years ago, but over which I still harbor some small resentment. This is one of a number of small but indelible stains on my soul that will ultimately keep me from attaining spiritual purity, deny me nirvana, and force me to be reborn again and again and again! Will my soul never know peace?! But anyway, here's the story in question...)

A couple of years ago, my then-girlfriend decided it would be good to take me out to the Olive Garden, but refused to drive after sunset (it's a long story). Which meant I had to drive. Which meant she could have a glass of wine. Or two.

With her cold medicine.

After which she passed out at the table. Stone cold asleep. Out like the proverbial light. Fortunately, the waiter who had found a candle to put in my birthday cheesecake saw the situation and carefully and quietly brought me the check so as not to wake the girl. Needless to say, she wasn't in any condition for much birthday fun afterwards. Dammit.

(That's about all for the harping on the past. It's bygones now. No big deal.)

This year I caught a head cold and got the dirtiest look I've seen in the last seven months. The cold I probably caught from being exposed to a parade of over-worked, under-immunized and over-tired English students. The dirty look I got from a Russian prostitute who was apparently off duty and enjoying a little shopping with her friends. Maybe my necktie was too offensively knotted for her...

I also got a bunch of really cool books and toys and music from the people I know who aren't Russian prostitutes and exhausted language students. Someday I'll develop photos and post them. Until then, why don't you make do with this instead?

Anyway, happy birthday to me.

What's the point of social science?

To talk about people's habits and stuff, but act like it's really something quantifiable and predictable.

For example: The Heisenberg Certainty Principle.

A grant proposal is in the works.

I live in an apartment that has been used to house foreign teachers for some time. There were at least four different people who lived in this place at one time or another. And each of them seems to have left different types of things here. Some of it was fairly innocuous, some of it was just garbage, and some of it was highly personal. Like books.

A person's choice of books or music is almost like a relief map of their personality. Certain assumptions can (and will) be made about them based on their preferences. If there's nothing but romance novels on the shelf, it's safe to guess that it probably wasn't a football loving guy. And if it's all military history and investment books, it's probably not the property of a dreamy young woman. Of course, if more than one person has left things, it's a little harder to guess what kind of person left which stuff.

For example:

There were a couple of Kurt Vonnegut books left here. Well, a lot of people like Vonnegut, so that doesn't narrow anything down very much. And a couple of Heinlein books. Inexplicably, a lot of people also like Heinlein, but they usually tend to be guys, so that doesn't narrow it down much.

[Theory 1: At least one guy lived here]

There were also some cookbooks. A lot of people like to cook. Or think they're going to learn to cook. Since I haven't seen anything like a food stain on any of the cookbooks, I tend to think that they belonged to someone in that second category.

There was also a couple of Agatha Christie books. And a couple of spy novels

More specifically, there were three John Gardner books. Including "On Becoming A Novelist" and "The Art Of Fiction." So there was one person here who was probably an English major at school. An English major who was planning on becoming a writer. An English major who was probably planning on getting a novel out of their experiences in Japan.

[Theory 2: One guy and one English Major]

There were also a couple of well reviewed, recently published novels. Novels that were mostly about young, resilient women dealing with a man's world that they had to break the rules in.

[One guy and one female English major]

But there were also a couple of magazines, all from fall 1997 or spring 1998. Two Newsweeks, one Atlantic monthly, and a Maclean's.

[One of them was probably a Canadian]

Two issues of Shape magazine.

[So the female English major was the Canadian...]

Two Victoria's Secret catalogs and a copy of Cheri ("Nipple Hickey Lesbos Leave their mark"?!)

[...or not.]


And on and on it goes. Who left the copy of The Basketball Diaries? Who wrote notes about all the words they had to look up in The God Of Small Things on the inside of the front cover and explanations of what they thought were important thematic points in the margins? Was it the same person who left a handwritten note in a copy of Memnoch The Devil describing (what I can only consider) a profoundly crappy idea for another vampire-coming-of-age story. I guess I'll never know. And in a way, that's probably best. I don't really want to know whose life and dreams filled up this apartment before I moved in. And I really don't want to know what kind of person chooses such shitty books to schlep across the Pacific ocean.

Come on, four Agatha Christie books?

Personal Note:

Decided to take a Japanese Proficiency Test in December. It's sorta like the TOEIC, but in Japanese.

I needed help just to fill out the application form. This does not bode well.

Decisions showing poor judgement (For the month of September only): 317

This just in:

Poor nations screwed again
America: "Did someone say something? I wasn't listening..."

The UN Earth Summit is over, and nothing is being done. Again. Even though there's countries that will probably be gone within less than a century.

What are you going to do about it?

What can any one person do about it?

Finally, the summer heat has broken and the weather is cooling off. It's actually possible to sleep at night again. But, of course, I'm wondering about a few things. That's what I do...

Thought 1: Two weeks ago I went to Yokohama for a short vacation. And there I was able to meet my cousin. It's very odd, finding someone who you appearantly have some connection to but so far from everything that you would expect to be connected to. While he was a witty, fun and all-around good guy, it was surprising how different we are.

Let's forego the explanations about different backgrounds and experiences. I'm not concerned about why we're different, that part is easy to understand. I'm concerned about how and why we happen to have any sort of connection at all. The same last name? Some shared DNA? What makes our connection more valuable than the connections that we would share if we were entirely unrelated by blood? Why is the idea of family so important?

Thought 2: Some people seem to be able to be happy fairly easily, others have more difficulty with it. Is it a skill that can be acquired? Is it like dancing or singing or making good coffee? Is there any reason to think that people can learn how to be happy? Or can people just learn how to do things that make them happy?

If mood altering chemicals like prozac make it easier to be happy, is it reasonable to think that a solution might be purely quantitative? That all one might need for a type of happiness is the addition or removal of a certain amount of certain substances. I'm not entirely sure where this train of thought is going, but it's been rolling around in my head for a while.

Thought 3: If America's current government is going to continue behaving as it has, is there any reason to think we won't face a series of attacks, famines, ecological crises and general reductions in the quality of life on the planet, all of which might have been easily avoidable?

I was just wondering...

Not much time before I go to work, so this'll have to be quick.

Two months ago I went to Albuquerque for my brother's wedding. After the ceremony, I went to a bar with my high school buddies.
'Cause that's what you do when you only have 28 hours in town between 26 hour travelling schedules.

What does that sort of nostalgia-soaked evening look like?

Damnned if I know. It was also fairly alcohol-soaked. But someone took pictures and this is what they look like.

(There seems to be some sort of editing glitch below, so please excuse any inconvenience it may cause...)

It's almost O-Bon

Or Obon. Or something. I'm not too clear on the spelling. It's a traditional holiday that's something like a Japanese version of Dia de Los Muertos. Folks go back to the old homestead to clean off the family tombstones, leave offerings for the dead relatives and visit with the live ones. Most businesses give folks a couple days off to handle ancestral affairs.

Since I'm on the wrong side of the Pacific to easily visit my family, I'm just gonna hack around Tokyo for a couple of days. That is, if I can get out of Fukui.

Damn stupid night bus being damn stupid sold out tonight.


Of course, my own waiting until the last day to buy a bus ticket has no bearing on the situation.

No new pictures this week. Maybe next time I'll get around to posting the shots from Kyoto.

Or the ones from that weekend in Albuquerque in May.

Or not.