Walking to work, pt.2

The walk to work is a time for deep thinking. So here is today's amazing message for the world (aka myself):

As I was walking in to work, I passed a guy who looked rough -- earrings, tatoos, an angry scowl on his face. It made me think he was angry at the world, or something, and it launched me into this sophomoric "philosophical" mode where I split the world into two camps, those who believe in God and have hope in a better tomorrow, and those who think that first group is stupid.

It made me upset at the people who I unfairly stereotype at church -- those people who have this supposed christ-like faith but aren't more kind and accepting of people like my new hardened tattoo buddy. I even thought that these so-called church-goers are actually the ones who push people to the extremes like this.

Stupid, huh.

But my conclusion was that instead of being angry and unfair to my churchy brothers and sisters, I could try to be one of the few "enlightened" ones who is not petty and intolerant (or a bad speller -- or, eh hem, a hypocritical elitist) -- one who is actually kind and generous and friendly to all people (and animals, too). What are my angry spiritual tattoos? Where are my angry spiritual piercings? Why must I be so judgmental? I should stop thinking I'm all that and just be a better, kinder person.

Pretty good piece of thinking, huh? All this in about 35 steps. And if that isn't proof of my eminant brilliance, I don't know what is.

All signs point to...

Purpose Envy

Can someone please explain to me what this huge billboard sign is doing on the side of a building in downtown Osaka?

Text:
No you can't play with mine because you've broken yours off!


Huh?????

Scratching the itch

I recently started scratching a nostalgic itch that I have been avoiding for some time. I went on to facebook and when I entered my high school information, it brought up a bunch of people who it said I should know. I knew a couple of them. Most of them I didn’t. So I contacted a few, and then a few more, and thus started scratching that itch.

I went to high school in AZ, but I haven’t lived there since I graduated. And every time I have gone back, I have dreaded the thought of running into anyone who knew me in high school.

Why?

Vanity, mainly. I don’t like the extra weight I’m carrying.

But mostly it's because I was such a cocky SOB in highschool – the star of my own private sitcom -- and it embarrasses me to think how others might remember me.

I have a video somewhere – I’ll have to dig it up – that illustrates this point perfectly. On the last day of school my senior year, I shoved a video camera in everybody’s face and said “tell me that you love me.” I can barely watch it now – it’s just too painful. One of the reasons I like “The Office” so much is because those main characters (David Brent/Michael Scott) are so unabashedly ego-driven and so completely unaware of the effect they have on the people around them. They think they are Mr. Hilarious, the world's funniest guy, when really they are just making an ass out of themselves and annoying everyone in the process.

That was me. When I look back at that last day of school video, I can see the rolling eyes and the disgust and almost pity in the eyes of the people responding to my cocky, desperate plea. Ugh.

But still, I have a lot of good memories from high school (and Jr. High and Elementary school for that matter), and made some friends that I would like to re-connect with. And I remember a lot of stories that just make me laugh.

Like the one about the guy who very boldly told the teacher who was accusing him (without evidence) of drinking at a school function that when you “assume” you make an “ass” out of “u” and “me.” That was the first time I ever heard that expression, but it was not the last, because he tape-recorded it and played it for all his friends afterwards. Funny.

Or the one about the guy running for student counsel who had to be rushed to the emergency room for testicular surgery the night before elections and returned to the school with a new slogan: “have a ball” and “go nuts.” What a great sense of humor.

Or the two guys who went roller-skating with a group of friends and dressed up like boy scouts just for a laugh. One guy propositioned a roller-rink hottie with the line, “you ever skate with an eagle scout?” Hilarious.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to remember, despite any embarrassment I might have about who I am now or who I was then. So I’ve got that nostalgic itch, and I’m just going to scratch away.

Mother's Day Part II: Love Fools

Love Fools

Move it Move it

Happy Mother's Day

I put this together two years ago from the only existing audio I know of with me as a little kid. It may be a little old and recyced a bit, but the sentiment is still there.

Happy Mother's day, Mom. Your very own blog tribute. It's a blibute. Happy blothers day.

Walking to work, pt.1

So I was thinking about writing a new post on my walk in to work today. Tokyo is an interesting place. It is busy, people everywhere. But there is also a remarkable sense of solitude. Maybe it's because I am so obviously a foriegner here. Or maybe it's my breath.

My apartment is pretty much under the "e" where you see the "Roppongi Hills Residence" in this picture of Tokyo, and I walk through Roppongi Hills and past the Mori tower every day on my commute to and from work.

There is a big spider statue in a courtyard at the mori tower. Thousands of people walk by it every day. I'm one of them. One of the fattest.

So I was walking today and thinking "what can I blog?" I was thinking about how Roppongi has a reputation as a "red light" district, and I was going to play off that -- play stupid, like I didn't know what it meant, and say something about how there are also yellow lights, green lights, white lights, and blue lights, although I've never seen a K-Mart. But then I decided that was stupid, and I wouldn't say it.

Then I thought about talking about some of the traditional children's folk-toys still popular in Japan -- like the wooden multi-colored tops that kids play with. I was going to build it up by talking about how fun they are to spin and you can pretty much play with them anywhere. I was going to say that people pretty much carry them around with them wherever they go, except for some places in Roppongi where they are not allowed -- some bars that open up at night that are strictly top-less bars. But then I realized that was stupid, too.

So basically the only thing I have left to blog about from my walk into work this morning is a scene I saw while I was crossing a street just before the subway entrance. This is a typically narrow Japanese backstreet -- I can cross it in three or four long strides, and yet it doubles as a two-way street. And there is a streetlight. And a crosswalk. And the crosswalk light was red, which even in Japan means "don't walk." And yet the Japanese commuters were all crossing anyway. Why not? There was no traffic whatsoever, and it is such a narrow road in the first place.

Except for one guy, with his briefcase and his dark suit. He stood at the corner, waiting for the light to turn green, watching all of the people around him crossing the street anyway. And I thought to myself, "what is going through that guy's head?" Here is a guy who obviously believes in following the rules, no matter what. What does he think about the people who aren't stopping like they are supposed to? Is he silently judging them? Is he silently patting himself on the back for being such a law-abiding guy? He stood there for 3 minutes. Why?

Oh well. Another day in the life in Tokyo.

Lost Update

Click here for a review of last night's Lost:

Ep. 4.10 Something Nice Back Home

Butt-prints In The Sand

One night I had a wondrous dream.
One set of footprints there was seen.
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

And then the strangest print appeared.
I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
This print is large and round and neat.
“But Lord, it’s much too big for feet.”

“My child,” He said in somber tones,
“For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and gained no strength.”

“You laid quite still. You would not grow,
This walk is not for me, you know.
So I got tired. I got fed up.
And there I dropped you on your butt.”

“Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must strive, and one must climb,
and one must rise and take a stand;
Or leave his butt-prints in the sand.”

-Anonymous
(and can you blame them?)