Last Post From Tokyo

Here is the last article I wrote from Japan. My long love affair for the country and its people reached its peak, in words if not deeds, with this writing early in January 2007.



I flew home today (Thursday), which is the longest day of the young year so far. For me, it is a 41-hour day. All was well late Thursday afternoon as I took off from Narita, but when it reached midnight Thursday, we crossed the International Dateline, and had to return to Go.

We flew backwards through time the rest of the way until landing by 7 am Thursday in San Francisco. Mark picked me up, and we had breakfast -- my second of this particular Thursday.



Later, I had my second lunch today; later still my second dinner. Now it is dark again, and I am enduring my second Thursday night. My little children are here with me; they squealed with joy at the modest little gifts I brought them.



Given that I rarely can sleep on planes, I am back to that dark time of night, less than three hours until midnight Thursday, once again. I couldn't sleep the first time, high above the Pacific, nor can I yet relax this second time, at ground level or the equivalent here in the Mission.




I decided tonight to post a few final images from my ten-day voyage through Japan. I want to make it clear that any errors in interpretation of the many stories I've recounted in the thousands of words posted here the past two weeks are strictly my own, and not my Japanese informant's.



Since most of my readers still are Americans, some of whom may not yet have visited Japan themselves, I've tried to capture the place and its people the best I can.



But, as always, the story is limited by the storyteller's limits, and I am no scholar, nor even an expert journalist on the subjects I've discussed here. My hope is just to shine one light, capturing what I saw when among these gentle people in this beautiful land.



It is time now to speak of other things. We are on baby alert tonight. My first grandson is going to be born tomorrow, we think. There are some worries, as there often are at this stage.



But I have a sacred amulet given to me in Japan and I am holding it tonight to guard my daughter and her son, keeping them safe, as she delivers him into this world tomorrow.

My next post will be on behalf of my family.

Thank you, Japan. You may be the only nation on earth who can count on each and every one of your citizens to do their loving best to render you truthfully. And since Truth indeed is Love, you and I can love each other tonight, truthfully.

Arrigato.



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Science & Art

One of My Last Posts From Japan

(This is a re-post from January 2007.)


Rinky Dink Studio

Let it be understood, please, that I do not want to make fun of anyone's English here. If I had to write a sign in Japanese, say, advertising "Please come in and read my blog," it would no doubt come out as "Please admit I have a giant horse up my ass."

I know this. Nevertheless, there are many amusing signs here.


Koenji pigeons

Today, I had the pleasure of visiting one last Tokyo neighborhood -- Kichijoji. Like all the others it is built in concentric circles around its train station. Unlike Minatoku, where many gaijin live and Ginza or Shinjuku, where they shop, this seemed to be almost entirely a Japanese neighborhood.


Not a Japanese company, but European

I finally had an American-type meal, more or less, my first since arriving here, at Japan's original burger joint, called Mos Burger. If you have seen the recent Pink Panther movie, you'll recall the scene where a supposedly French Steven Martin tries to learn how to pronounce "hamburger" before he visits New York.

His is almost a perfect imitation of how the Japanese pronounce "am-abou-aguh." So, for example, you may wish to order Spicy Hamburger, in which case you want to say "aspiceeamabougah."

I find it interesting that at the time when hamburgers were introduced here (by Mos Burger) the Japanese experimented and eventually determined that a 70-30 ground pork-ground beef mixture maximized the flavor of their burgers.

Today, most stores and shops still use the 70-30 formula, or some other mixture, like 50-50, because they say it is more flavorful than pure beef. They also somehow manage to cook the burger so it is soft and juicy, never hard and dry.


Swan boats after dark in pond at Kichijoji

Today, I also visited a "100 Yen" shop, which is the equivalent of a "dollar shop" back in the States. Actually, it is the equivalent of an 85-cent shop at the current rate of exchange. In any event, I was shocked at the quality of the workmanship in the goods being sold at these bargain-basement prices.

I purchased several items made of wood -- the kinds of things my father would have loved. I wish I could have brought him these items, because I know he would have marveled at both the grains in the woods and the workmanship. I will give them to his grandchildren instead.

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Season's End

On a cold, rainy day and night, my son's soccer season came to a close. They finished in third place, missing the playoffs for the first time since he joined the team as a freshman two years ago.

This team suffered a lot of losses to injuries, illness, grades, and penalties, and basically had no offense its last four games, scoring just twice, and watching their chance at the playoffs escape their grasp.

He did not play today because he is hurt, with a pulled leg muscle from last Sunday's game with his club team. He probably shouldn't have played in Tuesday's all-important game, but he did and his leg has been worse since.

Today's game was the only blowout loss his team has suffered all year, 1-6, against the best team in the city, which has a 36 game winning streak now over two years. All six goals were scored from "his" side of the defensive line, and afterwards his teammates jokingly blamed him for the loss.

I don't know that his team would have won the game with him in there, but I do know that most if not all of those goals would never have happened.

It's odd watching a game when your kid isn't playing. He was still out there, towering above his teammates, in their huddle, rooting for them from the bench, joking with various friends who stopped by to say "Hi."

He's an upperclassman now, respected, and as far as I can tell, well-liked. He's also had a fantastic season, with two goals, 4 assists, and 21 shots on goal, while anchoring his team's defense game after game. They had five shutouts and gave up 22 goals in the 17 games he played in, and then six goals in the one game he didn't play in.

That's it. Season over. And only one more left in his high school soccer career.

***

Tonight, babysitting my 3-year-old grandson, I thought about my own Dad, who would have been 95 today. How much he would have loved hearing about his grandson's soccer play and his great-grandson's antics.

But he died in January of the year my son first started playing soccer, that September. That was 12 years ago.

As we all know, time waits for no one, and in the end, makes fools of us all. I shivered in the cold today. It wasn't just the weather that got to me, but the passage of time, and awareness of how much that has passed will never be returning.

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More From Japan

Note to Reader: I'm re-posting this as one of a series of articles I wrote when last visiting Japan a number of years ago. I'm trying to understand my own motivations for going there, and how doing so changed my life in ways both good and bad. I hope that what appears here from there helps you in some way or another...



As my trip begins to wrap up, I'm trying to see all of the key parts of Tokyo. But it is such an enormous city that covers so much territory here on Honshu, the "main island" of Nippon, it really will not be possible.

I had heard of the Ginza for many years before I first visited Tokyo. My first mother-in-law told me about this central shopping district, and her memories of visiting it as she raised her children here in the '50s.

Her name was Grace Symroski and I loved her dearly. Because of her stories, I always wanted to visit Ginza. Since the '80s, when I was last here, the Ginza district lost favor among young people, who started flocking instead to other areas.



In recent years, a major effort has been undertaken to revitalize this old section of Tokyo. Now, it is the center of amazing architecture and tony international shops. Young people now flock to the area, especially if they have money. Nine out of every ten people on the street tonight were young women.



The Tokyo government built several white elephants with "Bubble" money, including the utterly amazing Tokyo International Forum. The sculptures and artwork captivated me, especially those laced with rainbow colors, like the glass balls pictured at the top of this post.



Many young and middle-aged Japanese women eat alone at the cafes near Ginza after work, as this is a major center of corporate employment in Tokyo. You can feel the sheer financial power of this country best here and in Shinjuku.



Whenever I travel anywhere, I cannot help fantasizing about moving there for a while and trying to make it as a writer. For me, Tokyo feels like a very easy city to live in, although given my awful sense of direction, which is more properly described as the lack of any sense whatsoever of direction, I am afraid I would get easily lost on the subways here, even though every sign in every station is clearly labeled not only in Japanese but in English.



The Japanese honor their writers and poets and artists. They used to have many local coffee shops, the faded signs for which can sometimes be glimpsed here and there amidst the modern glitz. But Starbucks has taken over the market. Besides the coffee shops, there are the tiny pubs and big bookstores, with readings by authors. Any writer would feel at home here.



I know I am not talented as a photographer, and I apologize to anyone who happens to read this blog for the poor quality of my pictures. But I get so excited wherever I go, I just want to create some sort of record in images, not just in words.

Note to reader: I've been re-posting articles I wrote during my final trip to Japan in January 2007. This is mainly for me, as I try to make sense of why I went there then, what I hoped to find, and how my life was changed, irrevocably, by going there.

Regardless of all that, there may be something of interest here for you, which is why I am doing this.



All too soon, of course, I must abandon this exploration of an exotic place, and the feelings of renewal and hope that have swept over me here. It is time soon to go back home, and continue my life as a commuter to the land of computers.

I hope some of you have enjoyed these travelogues. Thank you, "Anonymous," for the one comment I have received since arriving here.

Mixed Emotions on a Warm Evening

Walking back home on a summery night, after parking several blocks away, I ran into two of my neighbors, separately, both young women, both walking their dogs. Our neighborhood has felt safer lately, since the horrific wave of gang killings appears to have subsided.

A film crew from New York spent the morning here, filming me for an upcoming documentary on a major figure from the 60s. Talking on camera brought up a lot of old memories and feelings form the 70s, which is when much of what people call the 60s actually happened.

In a sad turn of events this afternoon, my son's high school team lost a soccer game that -- had they won -- would have sent them to the city playoffs for a third straight year. They are a small school, about half the size of the larger school they lost to today, 2-1.

My son played the entire game hurt, but nobody knew that but him and me. He didn't tell his coach or teammates, because there was no way he was going to miss this game, with the season on the line.

The injury is to his right leg, the outer muscle on his calf, probably some sort of twist or sprain that has made walking difficult since it occurred in another game Sunday afternoon.

He was in one of those high-speed collisions with an opposing player that makes you catch your breath and hope for the best. Although I could see he was limping a bit afterward, he said he was fine at the end of the game.

But starting that night, the pain was bad enough that he realized he was hurt, and it hasn't abated much since. Nevertheless, with Ibuprofen, stretching and adrenaline, he was perfectly able to play at a very high level today.

In the photo above, he is doing his usual job, guarding an opposing striker. But he also got in on what little offense his team generated, and even after the sting of defeat tonight, I was left with a picture in my mind of the play (no photo, alas.)

From his position at right back, and even with the hurt right leg, he arched a long kick that traveled over half the length of the soccer pitch (over 50 yards) in the air to his left forward, who was in the box to the left of the goalkeeper.

Perfect reception and a cross to the front of the net to a third teammate, and Boom! A goal.

At that point, ahead 1-0, our guys looked like they were on the way to victory and a place in the city playoffs next week. But it was not to be. The other team came back to tie it before the half, and win it in the second half.

I've written many times that sports teaches you not only how to win but how to lose and hopefully to do both gracefully. Although my own kid and his teammates looked pretty downcast after a terrific season fell just short of where they'd hoped to finish, it's also true that soccer is only a game.

And long after I forget who won and who lost, what I'll remember is how he played the game.

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