I remember, vaguely, being told of the Takarazuka Revue in one of my university drama courses during the section on world theater. There wasn't much, a brief mention, along with Kabuki (歌舞伎) and Noh (能) and perhaps even Bunraku (文楽). They weren't gone into very much depth, but we were in a world of Shakespeare and Western theater tradition, so perhaps it was to be expected.
The blurb failed to mention how girly the Takarazuka Revue is.
Getting off the Osaka-Takarazuka train, I was immediately pointed toward the Grand Takakazuka Theater with posters of the latest production. I saw these on the train as well, and in all the shop windows along hana no michi ("the flower road") as I continued. And when I bought a ticket, amongst bubbly girls, middle-aged women and obas, with the only men around appearing to have been brought there by their wives and daughters, you can imagine I felt a little out of place. They had the look of men I'd seen only in sitcoms when their wives mentioned the topic of going to the opera for the night.
When I went to sit down, however, I sat next to a guy who must have been around twenty. It was not his first time to the Takarazuka Revue: he'd brought his own binoculars.
Takazakura otaku, apparently.
The play began, and I'll freely admit I had little-to-no idea what was going on. The first act consisted mainly of a 30-minute lavish dance and musical number that was light on plot and heavy on showcasing the talents of the women. The best choreography I'd probably ever seen, though admittedly I haven't seen a lot. Expressive and fluid, it really was a pleasure to watch.
And then it ended and there was a 30-minute intermission were everyone sat down and ate lunch in the theater. This is quite a common occurence at any Japanese event: everyone brings along a little bento box. I fell asleep during this portion.
It did start back up again, and we finally got into the plot (revolving around a Mexican revolution and a blossoming romance, from what I understood) and singing and dancing were toned down a bit. I spent a lot of time during this portion examining the costuming and how striking the women looked, even from the very back row of the theater.
This is were I want to get something clear about the girly part. I felt very out of place. It felt like I was intruding on a grandmother-mother-daughter activity. I saw no young men--save that otaku--anywhere. Where I had hoped to see some interesting sexual dynamics onstage, I got sense that this was a traditional, Japanese feminine passtime. It was rather the opposite of what I'd expected.
It was enjoyable, though. I saw a different side to this type of theater than I expected, and I got a certain sense of how its marketed. There are big names in the Takarazuka company, and those personalities are played up in the promotional materials and all the merchandise. It had a very broadway feel.
Further Clicks:
Wiki
http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=lwq6ZfnyNv8
http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=OIcWEWSp8mE
Friday, August 29, 2008
I'm Back, Folks
I'm back in the states and headed out to the Ren Fest on Saturday. I'm not particularly keen on the Ren Fest. The last (and only) time I went was when I was 21, and I found it so-so. I was very wishy-washy about it. If I'd gone in junior high or high school, during the time I was really into fantasy, I might have really gotten into it.
I just got in on Monday after spending three weeks traveling around Japan. I'll start sharing those experiences soon. For now, I'm getting my life in order here in the states and beginning the search for an apartment, a job and doing some reconnecting.
Be seeing y'all around!
I just got in on Monday after spending three weeks traveling around Japan. I'll start sharing those experiences soon. For now, I'm getting my life in order here in the states and beginning the search for an apartment, a job and doing some reconnecting.
Be seeing y'all around!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The First of the Last
Yesterday was the first of my last classes. I had it with the sixth grade class, where we reviewed all the material of the past few months and generally enjoyed ourselves. And today, a month from now, my job will be officially over.
It has become, particularly during this week, to keep my brain logged into what I am doing. My final lessons were planned a month ago, so thankfully I don't have to worry about too much preparation on the teaching side. However, for one of the first times in my life, I'm beginning to feel there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Oddly, amongst all the cleaning, studying, teaching, trip planning, exercising and even more socializing, I've managed to set in motion the plans for an apartment, so hopefully that will come to fruition in the next few weeks.
There are little frustrations: a student of mine has caused problems, problems that cost me time and energy. Myself and the teachers I work with talked with this student today, and though she showed some improvement, I hope it carries through for the next few days. It has gotten to the point where I frankly don't want to deal with her any more, and its taking a fair amount of my willpower to be collected as possible and express disappointment but not anger.
But there are gems, of course. The weekend was good, and the coming one promises food, friends and karaoke. Always a winning combination. There's no better way of taking out those frustrations then through song.
It has become, particularly during this week, to keep my brain logged into what I am doing. My final lessons were planned a month ago, so thankfully I don't have to worry about too much preparation on the teaching side. However, for one of the first times in my life, I'm beginning to feel there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Oddly, amongst all the cleaning, studying, teaching, trip planning, exercising and even more socializing, I've managed to set in motion the plans for an apartment, so hopefully that will come to fruition in the next few weeks.
There are little frustrations: a student of mine has caused problems, problems that cost me time and energy. Myself and the teachers I work with talked with this student today, and though she showed some improvement, I hope it carries through for the next few days. It has gotten to the point where I frankly don't want to deal with her any more, and its taking a fair amount of my willpower to be collected as possible and express disappointment but not anger.
But there are gems, of course. The weekend was good, and the coming one promises food, friends and karaoke. Always a winning combination. There's no better way of taking out those frustrations then through song.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
A little of this, a little of that.
Seems like every post I want to make I also want to preface with "So I've been busy." And I am: I'm busy like a person who's moving in two months, plans to bum around Japan for three or four weeks, feels the day is wasted if he hasn't exercised and is throwing all his effort into studying for a Japanese proficiency test in December.
I sat down and read The Yiddish Policemen's Union yesterday because it had to be done for book club this coming Friday, and though I enjoyed it, I felt as if I was wasting time better devoted to exercising and studying or making sure my proverbial ducks are in a row. It was also written in ENGLISH. But I'll forgive it that.
Part of the reason I'm feeling a bit behind is I spent the weekend on Izena island relaxing. Myself and about 12 others boated out there and spent the afternoon and evening swimming, scootering, cricket playing and BBQing. Cricket was most enjoyable: it was my first time playing, and I have to say it was a lot more enjoyable than games of baseball I've watched or played.* At some point a few of us also skipped into a snack bar next to the beach and sang a song or two.
In said snack bar, I was hit with a dazzling moment of inspiration after a rousing chorus of "Ghostbusters." I wrote it down and shuffled if off to do later, when I return to the states, along with a couple other more creative projects. Among those are interviewing family members and creating a podcast. To do these things, however, requires a much better (i.e. working) computer than I have now, and I've decided to wait until I get back to the states to buy one, seeing as macs in Japan are even more ridiculously overpriced.
Despite not posting much, I am getting out more and being more sociable. I had a problem, when I was bigger, about my own self-worth, and though being thinner and in shape by no means vanishes all problems instantly like some incredible panacea, I do feel more confident in my approach to people. The realization that my self-worth hinges upon my appearance causes a certain amount of discomfort.
Vanity. Oy.
Getting on a scale, looking in a mirror everday, revising exercise plans to accommadate for a weekend, a day of excess; it's a consuming process. That it should irk me that I have little to no access to weightlifting equipment I find a little frightening, as is the desire to do more than I'm already doing, which is running three times a week (two of those times over an hour) and swimming two-three times a week.
Need to teach now. Did I mention I'm finding the time to do that too?
*I'll just surrender my American citizenship now.
I sat down and read The Yiddish Policemen's Union yesterday because it had to be done for book club this coming Friday, and though I enjoyed it, I felt as if I was wasting time better devoted to exercising and studying or making sure my proverbial ducks are in a row. It was also written in ENGLISH. But I'll forgive it that.
Part of the reason I'm feeling a bit behind is I spent the weekend on Izena island relaxing. Myself and about 12 others boated out there and spent the afternoon and evening swimming, scootering, cricket playing and BBQing. Cricket was most enjoyable: it was my first time playing, and I have to say it was a lot more enjoyable than games of baseball I've watched or played.* At some point a few of us also skipped into a snack bar next to the beach and sang a song or two.
In said snack bar, I was hit with a dazzling moment of inspiration after a rousing chorus of "Ghostbusters." I wrote it down and shuffled if off to do later, when I return to the states, along with a couple other more creative projects. Among those are interviewing family members and creating a podcast. To do these things, however, requires a much better (i.e. working) computer than I have now, and I've decided to wait until I get back to the states to buy one, seeing as macs in Japan are even more ridiculously overpriced.
Despite not posting much, I am getting out more and being more sociable. I had a problem, when I was bigger, about my own self-worth, and though being thinner and in shape by no means vanishes all problems instantly like some incredible panacea, I do feel more confident in my approach to people. The realization that my self-worth hinges upon my appearance causes a certain amount of discomfort.
Vanity. Oy.
Getting on a scale, looking in a mirror everday, revising exercise plans to accommadate for a weekend, a day of excess; it's a consuming process. That it should irk me that I have little to no access to weightlifting equipment I find a little frightening, as is the desire to do more than I'm already doing, which is running three times a week (two of those times over an hour) and swimming two-three times a week.
Need to teach now. Did I mention I'm finding the time to do that too?
*I'll just surrender my American citizenship now.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
The Half
I've put off writing about my half-marathon because I'd hoped that I would have some better pictures coming in, but they haven't surfaced, so you'll have to make due with what I have.
Luckily I wasn't alone: Everette came out and we ran together, along with Cliff, Jenny and Tai who where there for moral support/touring the island. Everette and I had an ongoing routine of worrying about the race than calming the other down. Her main worry was she had just got back from China and this was her first run in a month, while this was my first half-marathon ever and I was worrying about what to eat, how much to sleep and how I was going to entertain myself for however long it took.
My time? Two hours and seven minutes (really it was two hours and six; I dallied for about 30 seconds after crossing the finish line before I got my time officially scanned). I was incredibly pleased with this. I'd imagined it taking three hours or something, because my goal wasn't to make a great time, only to finish.
I wasn't as tired as I thought I would be. I thought my muscles or something else might strain, but they were surprisingly fine during and after the race. It makes me want to try an honest to goodness marathon length (42 kilometers/26 miles), though I don't know when I would be ready for that.
The half-marathon is a big annual event for my island, so we enjoyed dinner and drinking under the stars as the evening wore on. Everette and I were bushed though, so everyone headed back to my place, where we played video games until we all zonked out.
I recuperated for about a week after (meaning walking, no running). Now I've started Judo and hopefully can start some swimming in the next week in addition to the running. The more I exercise, the more I enjoy the effects it has.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Remembering
To say my days and nights have been given over to self-improvement and less to entertainments would be an understatement. Though I'd like to watch or read a lot of things, largely it's thrown into a mental pile of something I may or may not touch. If I'm not exercising, I'm likely studying Japanese and attempting to learn around 2,000 characters.
I'm fairly obsessed and often wonder if the exercise and this sudden fascination with Japanese study is a redirection of my sexual energies. Let's face it people, that well's been dry for awhile. Ah, but fear not for me. There are hopeful signs. But that's a post of its own.
For the course of my two and a half years here, my acquisition of Japanese has been fairly piecemeal. At the moment I attribute this to trying to learn primarily through a textbook, which has had varying degrees of success. No, it sucked. Never liked it. Never took to it. After I arrived back in Japan in January, I gave it a final shot and studied from the textbook more heartily. I still found it lacking, so I decided to try something different, and I abandoned the textbooks with blah-blah grammar points. I switched instead to the Heisig method, with the eventual goal (soon to be upon me) of almost complete immersion. It takes a lot of time--imagine learning an alphabet of 2,000 as opposed to 26--and you only learn a core meaning of each character and how to write it. However, I wish I'd known about it when I first came to Japan. It's likely I'd be fluent by now. Losing the weight I have in the last year reveals a certain amount of how things can improve by just sitting down and doing what you need to do everyday. Looking back, I feel little worms of regret about the time I wasted.
The method requires you to make little stories for about 2,000 of the most commonly used characters. Heisig gets you started and then gradually has you constructing your own stories. This can become tiring after awhile, and there've been times I had to reconstruct stories simply because at the time I was feeling uncreative when a stubborn one presented itself. That said, it does have a certain effect on your imagination. It's been knocked up a notch, I'd wager. I often listen to Harry Potter or other audio books when I'm out exercising (I find a narrative more engrossing than music during a workout) and lately they've been more vivid.
The "end" of the character study is in sight, since I have about five hundred more to go, and hopefully I can finish in the next couple weeks. Once that is done with, I can move on to picking apart sentences and see if that aids me any better in learning as opposed to straight textbook learning. I have about three months to see where it gets me. Japan has become a great part of my life, and I want to carry it with me.
I'm fairly obsessed and often wonder if the exercise and this sudden fascination with Japanese study is a redirection of my sexual energies. Let's face it people, that well's been dry for awhile. Ah, but fear not for me. There are hopeful signs. But that's a post of its own.
For the course of my two and a half years here, my acquisition of Japanese has been fairly piecemeal. At the moment I attribute this to trying to learn primarily through a textbook, which has had varying degrees of success. No, it sucked. Never liked it. Never took to it. After I arrived back in Japan in January, I gave it a final shot and studied from the textbook more heartily. I still found it lacking, so I decided to try something different, and I abandoned the textbooks with blah-blah grammar points. I switched instead to the Heisig method, with the eventual goal (soon to be upon me) of almost complete immersion. It takes a lot of time--imagine learning an alphabet of 2,000 as opposed to 26--and you only learn a core meaning of each character and how to write it. However, I wish I'd known about it when I first came to Japan. It's likely I'd be fluent by now. Losing the weight I have in the last year reveals a certain amount of how things can improve by just sitting down and doing what you need to do everyday. Looking back, I feel little worms of regret about the time I wasted.
The method requires you to make little stories for about 2,000 of the most commonly used characters. Heisig gets you started and then gradually has you constructing your own stories. This can become tiring after awhile, and there've been times I had to reconstruct stories simply because at the time I was feeling uncreative when a stubborn one presented itself. That said, it does have a certain effect on your imagination. It's been knocked up a notch, I'd wager. I often listen to Harry Potter or other audio books when I'm out exercising (I find a narrative more engrossing than music during a workout) and lately they've been more vivid.
The "end" of the character study is in sight, since I have about five hundred more to go, and hopefully I can finish in the next couple weeks. Once that is done with, I can move on to picking apart sentences and see if that aids me any better in learning as opposed to straight textbook learning. I have about three months to see where it gets me. Japan has become a great part of my life, and I want to carry it with me.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Ernie Pyle died on my island, Ie-jima, on April 18th, 1945. This is but a small memorial for him, and there are surely others who can attest better than I his contributions.
But cheers to you, Ernie. You're remembered still.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Return of the Weight Update
In about a month, I'll be posting some pictures of my weight loss gathered from the last year. As it currently stands, I'm floating around between 68-69 kilograms (150-152 pounds). This has pushed me into the normal area of the BMI, and though you can go on and on about the supposed accuracy of that system, it's been a mental finish line since I was about 100 kilograms.
Because of this mental finish line, I've decided to take a break this past week. By no means have I stopped exercising. After almost 11 months of constant exercise, resting for one day sits on my brain like a metal chip. It drives me bonkers. But my body needed a rest. I pushed it hard in the last month and dropped almost twenty pounds. (Bravo to my little brother, who accomplished a likewise feat and is now headed to the Minnesota state wrestling championship. Huzzah!)
I've been told I look good and I should maybe ease up as well. But the thing is, since I've lost almost 50ish kilograms over the course of a year, I'm interested in seeing how far I can push it, to see just how big a change can be wrought. I'm going to keep losing weight: tomorrow begins the marathon training and some excess flab I still have will be eaten up in the process. It'll be my first marathon, and because of that it's only a half-marathon, but I'm already excited and it'll be the culmination of a year of dieting and exercise.
Because of this mental finish line, I've decided to take a break this past week. By no means have I stopped exercising. After almost 11 months of constant exercise, resting for one day sits on my brain like a metal chip. It drives me bonkers. But my body needed a rest. I pushed it hard in the last month and dropped almost twenty pounds. (Bravo to my little brother, who accomplished a likewise feat and is now headed to the Minnesota state wrestling championship. Huzzah!)
I've been told I look good and I should maybe ease up as well. But the thing is, since I've lost almost 50ish kilograms over the course of a year, I'm interested in seeing how far I can push it, to see just how big a change can be wrought. I'm going to keep losing weight: tomorrow begins the marathon training and some excess flab I still have will be eaten up in the process. It'll be my first marathon, and because of that it's only a half-marathon, but I'm already excited and it'll be the culmination of a year of dieting and exercise.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Dad
"The thing is, parents want their kids to go off," Spike said. "You shouldn't feel guilty. He was proud of you. All you boys. You were all different and unique and he was proud."
"I know." My eyes were fixed on Spike's hound dog face.
He nodded and his jowls jiggled. "You shouldn't feel guilty."
***
The pet shop was run by one woman. She was attractive and pleasant, somewhere between 25 and 30, but the dinginess of her store, smells of dead animals and shit, and any flirtatious comments I might have composed turned over in my mouth.
But Zach knew her, went up to her easily. "Can we see it today?"
She stood up without and went over to the rabbit cage. Her black lab panted along after her. "Sure. I haven't fed him yet. Your friends coming?"
"Naw, just us."
Without a glance, she reached in the rabbit cage and grabbed a juvenile rabbit. She closed the cage and went over to the seven-foot albino python, coiled in a display case.
We watched as she slid back the rear of the display and held the rabbit inside. The python darted forward and clamped it's lipless mouth around the rabbit's head. There was a small scream then silence as the python wrapped around and commenced its smothering ritual.
The rabbit made occasional twitches. Occasional squeaks. The python had struck it in the eye and it was bleeding.
It took ten minutes to die.
***
I hefted the books onto the counter.
The librarian looked pleased. "They're are certainly a lot of them."
"I have a couple more boxes in the car. Mostly they're paperbacks. A lot of science fiction and fantasy. We're cleaning out my dad's house." I paused for a beat. "He passed away recently."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thank you. It's okay." This was my normal response to that sentiment, though I didn't know what was "okay" about anything.
There was a pause. "These were your father's?"
"No, they were mine." I smiled. "He wasn't much of a reader. Just me. Let me get the other books." I turned and went back out to the truck.
***
"Hold on to something," Zach, from the passenger seat. My muscles went taut as the truck hydroplaned across the iced road.
The truck went round and we went into the ditch and rolled over onto the passenger side. Cigarette detritus fluttered through the air. The card my brother bought his girlfriend for Christmas disappeared and was forgotten. Later he would write a makeshift card on computer paper and scrawl, "I bought a card but I was in a car accident."
There was no more danger. "You okay?" one of us said and the other answered with "I'm fine." The driver's side door wouldn't open and I told Zach to go for the rear driver's side. He went back and I unbuckled, following after as he opened the door and crawled out.
As we waited for the tow truck to come, we watched a white truck pass by and hydroplane into the ditch.
***
My Son
*Mark Humphrey to me show details 4/5/07 <Reply
Hi Josh daddy here how are you doing.
Leave me an e-mail to tell how it is going.
Stay in distance touch!!!
FOR I LOST OUT ON SPENDING TIME WITH YOU
WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG
I LOVE YOU DAD
***
After a full minute embrace, she broke away and I watched her go.
"Why'd you hug her?" Miraiya asked, her voice quiet.
"Should I not have hugged her?" I looked at the woman's retreating back.
"That's Heather, Josh." A bare smile came onto her face. "You didn't know who she was?"
"No. I only met her once, couple years ago. I'd forgotten."
"That's funny." She hugged me and I hugged back.
***
Seth and Loni picked me up from the airport. I walked up to Loni and it was a few seconds before her eyes focused on me.
"Josh," she stood up and embraced me. "I didn't recognize you. Are you okay?"
"Oh. As well as can be expected, I guess. Not great." I turned to my taller, lanky cousin and we both hugged.
"Let's get out of here." I said.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not at the moment. Do you have a phone?"
"Yes." She handed me her cell.
I called up mom and told her I made it all right. We talked quietly about my brothers and the family.
"I have clothes for you to wear. I bought some." I nodded and I said I loved her and I'd call her back in a bit.
I handed Loni her phone. "Can we stop at a suit store? I want to buy a couple." I didn't add, "I want to do this right."
***
I cleaned. I studied Japanese. I wrote in my blog. I wrote thank you notes. I exercised. I burned CDs. I read a book. I watched a movie. I played word games on my DS. I went out with friends.
But when the time to sleep came, stillness came with it.
***
Ayamu>> Just so you know, wopa's been cleaning house and breaking pearls. So you should watch out.
Munin>> I'll remember that next time my father dies and I'm going through a depression.
Ayamu>> Oh. ; ; I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you kicked.
***
"Hey. That's my Grampa Mark's computer."
"Yeah." I said.
"Don't break it."
"'kay."
"Can we do Dora?"
"Come sit on my lap and we will. Where's Dora's webpage?"
"I dunno."
"Okay. We'll find it."
***
"Minako-sensei." I said.
She turned, a face of polite, tired interest. I had told her I was running home to check on a family emergency. "What has happened?"
"My father has died."
"What? How?"
How? Who's fault? His? Someone else?
"Car accident." I swayed. I'd read about knees buckling under strain or sudden, emotional weight. I didn't think it actually happened to flesh and blood people. I must have looked a little drunk. Punch-drunk? Is that what this feels like?
"Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes." I took a computer chair and stared at the floor. "I need to go back to America."
"There's a typhoon coming. You have to be out on the one o'clock ferry or you may be stuck here for the rest of the day."
"Okay." I said. "I need to call my travel agent." How happy he would be, upgrading my trip from an inexpensive Thailand venture to a last-minute American return.
"I will call the board of education and tell them what has happened."
"Thank you."
***
INT. PINE RIVER 1ST LUTHERN CHURCH -- MIDDAY
JOSHUA is at the podium of a church filled with mourners. The HUMPHREY FAMILY sits in the first rows, all together. His brothers, MATT and ZACH are there, crying with his MOTHER.
JOSHUA
I want to thank you, on the behalf of my
family, for your thoughts and prayers.
He pauses here. He had decided, after this thank you, to speak without rehearsal. He wanted it to come out raw. He wanted it to hurt.
JOSHUA (con't)
I want to say. I love you, dad. I love you
so much. I haven't been around for the
last couple years. We haven't seen each other
at all. I want you to know. I knew you were
proud of me. Of all of us. But I want you to know.
I was proud of you. I love you dad.
He's crying now, the second time he's allowed himself tears, like he's been saving them for just this moment.
But I wasn't around. So I need to know.
I want to ask anyone who knew Dad to
come up and please tell us about him.
Tell us something about him. Because
I need to know so badly.
He steps to the side, his chest heaving, and he waits.
***
10/24/2007
Okuma-sensei performed magic tricks tonight for the kindergarten class. He did this without effort, and all the kids loved him. His own son looked a little embarrassed. I wanted to to tell him: "Enjoy it, kid. Not all of us get awesome, caring, well-adjusted fathers."
I was jealous. I try to think of special times with Dad but I usually just draw a blank. Christmases, Easters, those I remember. But I remember precious few times where Dad and I were just doing something together. If I ever did anything with Dad, it was through work, always him trying to connect with me that way. It probably didn't help that I had no interests like his. I wonder if that ever frustrated him?
***
Matt was asleep on the couch as I put together crates of books and wrestling trophies. He'd gotten drunk the night before. His way to mourn, I supposed. Zach spent his time with his friends or down in his room.
I sorted books by stuff I wanted to keep and stuff I intended to donate to the Crosslake library. It was a new and privately-funded, hardly a blink on the literary map. But it was something to do with the endless amount of fantasy novels I'd never read again. I'd hand off those worlds to someone who would enjoy the trip.
The house was quiet and it made my stomach churn. We were going through all our stuff and his stuff and I didn't like it. Didn't like being there in that silent house, shifting through old records and books, opening safes and peering into small places where there was more likely to be heaps of mouse shit rather than anything that might be considered a stash.
He had liked to buy me books. He hadn't known what to buy, not unless I told him, but he had liked to. And I liked to read them. Mom had said he was happy when I asked for books, but sometimes I didn't ask, even when I wanted them. Sometimes I thought that he would say what a silly thing it would be to spend money on. But he never did. Then I was old enough to buy what I wanted and it never came up again.
Hardcovers. Paperbacks. Falling-apartbacks. I thought of the novel I wanted to write but probably never would, the novel that shifted and morphed with whatever book I was reading. Maybe it was time to start—to really start—and get it out of me. Get it off of my brain, where it lingered like a picked-at sore. But there was other writing to do first, wasn’t there?
***
“Have you written about it yet?” Reynolds sipped his coffee. I looked beyond him, out through the Klas Center front window and onto the Hamline main square. Last night I’d seen Turner, went over to his house and visited, which gave me more pleasure than I was willing to admit.
“Not yet,” I said. “I want to, but don’t know where to start.” I thought back to a post I blogged, with moments and beats and different styles.
“I want to write about how he died.”
***
"I'm going to call the cops." She wouldn't go away. Not ever.
"Oh yeah. You do that." He watched her turn and walk from the bar.
He stared at the counter then followed after her. He ignored her shouts and got into his truck and peeled out of the parking lot.
His eyes flicked up to his rear-view mirror and he saw her mimic his exodus and follow. He focused back on the road.
If she'd just stay away, maybe everything would be all right, but his phone was ringing now, and he knew just by a look into his mirror that she was calling. Trying to reach him. She could forget about that.
"Just stay away." He muttered.
He sped up but she kept pace. Eyes on his side mirror now, she was riding much too close to him.
The phone was still ringing and he grabbed for it and he was going to tell her to just get the hell away from him, it was over and he was done. His eyes were away from the road and then he was rolling and rolling and rolling—
"I know." My eyes were fixed on Spike's hound dog face.
He nodded and his jowls jiggled. "You shouldn't feel guilty."
***
The pet shop was run by one woman. She was attractive and pleasant, somewhere between 25 and 30, but the dinginess of her store, smells of dead animals and shit, and any flirtatious comments I might have composed turned over in my mouth.
But Zach knew her, went up to her easily. "Can we see it today?"
She stood up without and went over to the rabbit cage. Her black lab panted along after her. "Sure. I haven't fed him yet. Your friends coming?"
"Naw, just us."
Without a glance, she reached in the rabbit cage and grabbed a juvenile rabbit. She closed the cage and went over to the seven-foot albino python, coiled in a display case.
We watched as she slid back the rear of the display and held the rabbit inside. The python darted forward and clamped it's lipless mouth around the rabbit's head. There was a small scream then silence as the python wrapped around and commenced its smothering ritual.
The rabbit made occasional twitches. Occasional squeaks. The python had struck it in the eye and it was bleeding.
It took ten minutes to die.
***
I hefted the books onto the counter.
The librarian looked pleased. "They're are certainly a lot of them."
"I have a couple more boxes in the car. Mostly they're paperbacks. A lot of science fiction and fantasy. We're cleaning out my dad's house." I paused for a beat. "He passed away recently."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thank you. It's okay." This was my normal response to that sentiment, though I didn't know what was "okay" about anything.
There was a pause. "These were your father's?"
"No, they were mine." I smiled. "He wasn't much of a reader. Just me. Let me get the other books." I turned and went back out to the truck.
***
"Hold on to something," Zach, from the passenger seat. My muscles went taut as the truck hydroplaned across the iced road.
The truck went round and we went into the ditch and rolled over onto the passenger side. Cigarette detritus fluttered through the air. The card my brother bought his girlfriend for Christmas disappeared and was forgotten. Later he would write a makeshift card on computer paper and scrawl, "I bought a card but I was in a car accident."
There was no more danger. "You okay?" one of us said and the other answered with "I'm fine." The driver's side door wouldn't open and I told Zach to go for the rear driver's side. He went back and I unbuckled, following after as he opened the door and crawled out.
As we waited for the tow truck to come, we watched a white truck pass by and hydroplane into the ditch.
***
My Son
*Mark Humphrey to me show details 4/5/07 <Reply
Hi Josh daddy here how are you doing.
Leave me an e-mail to tell how it is going.
Stay in distance touch!!!
FOR I LOST OUT ON SPENDING TIME WITH YOU
WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG
I LOVE YOU DAD
***
After a full minute embrace, she broke away and I watched her go.
"Why'd you hug her?" Miraiya asked, her voice quiet.
"Should I not have hugged her?" I looked at the woman's retreating back.
"That's Heather, Josh." A bare smile came onto her face. "You didn't know who she was?"
"No. I only met her once, couple years ago. I'd forgotten."
"That's funny." She hugged me and I hugged back.
***
Seth and Loni picked me up from the airport. I walked up to Loni and it was a few seconds before her eyes focused on me.
"Josh," she stood up and embraced me. "I didn't recognize you. Are you okay?"
"Oh. As well as can be expected, I guess. Not great." I turned to my taller, lanky cousin and we both hugged.
"Let's get out of here." I said.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not at the moment. Do you have a phone?"
"Yes." She handed me her cell.
I called up mom and told her I made it all right. We talked quietly about my brothers and the family.
"I have clothes for you to wear. I bought some." I nodded and I said I loved her and I'd call her back in a bit.
I handed Loni her phone. "Can we stop at a suit store? I want to buy a couple." I didn't add, "I want to do this right."
***
I cleaned. I studied Japanese. I wrote in my blog. I wrote thank you notes. I exercised. I burned CDs. I read a book. I watched a movie. I played word games on my DS. I went out with friends.
But when the time to sleep came, stillness came with it.
***
Ayamu>> Just so you know, wopa's been cleaning house and breaking pearls. So you should watch out.
Munin>> I'll remember that next time my father dies and I'm going through a depression.
Ayamu>> Oh. ; ; I'm sorry. I just don't want to see you kicked.
***
"Hey. That's my Grampa Mark's computer."
"Yeah." I said.
"Don't break it."
"'kay."
"Can we do Dora?"
"Come sit on my lap and we will. Where's Dora's webpage?"
"I dunno."
"Okay. We'll find it."
***
"Minako-sensei." I said.
She turned, a face of polite, tired interest. I had told her I was running home to check on a family emergency. "What has happened?"
"My father has died."
"What? How?"
How? Who's fault? His? Someone else?
"Car accident." I swayed. I'd read about knees buckling under strain or sudden, emotional weight. I didn't think it actually happened to flesh and blood people. I must have looked a little drunk. Punch-drunk? Is that what this feels like?
"Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes." I took a computer chair and stared at the floor. "I need to go back to America."
"There's a typhoon coming. You have to be out on the one o'clock ferry or you may be stuck here for the rest of the day."
"Okay." I said. "I need to call my travel agent." How happy he would be, upgrading my trip from an inexpensive Thailand venture to a last-minute American return.
"I will call the board of education and tell them what has happened."
"Thank you."
***
INT. PINE RIVER 1ST LUTHERN CHURCH -- MIDDAY
JOSHUA is at the podium of a church filled with mourners. The HUMPHREY FAMILY sits in the first rows, all together. His brothers, MATT and ZACH are there, crying with his MOTHER.
JOSHUA
I want to thank you, on the behalf of my
family, for your thoughts and prayers.
He pauses here. He had decided, after this thank you, to speak without rehearsal. He wanted it to come out raw. He wanted it to hurt.
JOSHUA (con't)
I want to say. I love you, dad. I love you
so much. I haven't been around for the
last couple years. We haven't seen each other
at all. I want you to know. I knew you were
proud of me. Of all of us. But I want you to know.
I was proud of you. I love you dad.
He's crying now, the second time he's allowed himself tears, like he's been saving them for just this moment.
But I wasn't around. So I need to know.
I want to ask anyone who knew Dad to
come up and please tell us about him.
Tell us something about him. Because
I need to know so badly.
He steps to the side, his chest heaving, and he waits.
***
10/24/2007
Okuma-sensei performed magic tricks tonight for the kindergarten class. He did this without effort, and all the kids loved him. His own son looked a little embarrassed. I wanted to to tell him: "Enjoy it, kid. Not all of us get awesome, caring, well-adjusted fathers."
I was jealous. I try to think of special times with Dad but I usually just draw a blank. Christmases, Easters, those I remember. But I remember precious few times where Dad and I were just doing something together. If I ever did anything with Dad, it was through work, always him trying to connect with me that way. It probably didn't help that I had no interests like his. I wonder if that ever frustrated him?
***
Matt was asleep on the couch as I put together crates of books and wrestling trophies. He'd gotten drunk the night before. His way to mourn, I supposed. Zach spent his time with his friends or down in his room.
I sorted books by stuff I wanted to keep and stuff I intended to donate to the Crosslake library. It was a new and privately-funded, hardly a blink on the literary map. But it was something to do with the endless amount of fantasy novels I'd never read again. I'd hand off those worlds to someone who would enjoy the trip.
The house was quiet and it made my stomach churn. We were going through all our stuff and his stuff and I didn't like it. Didn't like being there in that silent house, shifting through old records and books, opening safes and peering into small places where there was more likely to be heaps of mouse shit rather than anything that might be considered a stash.
He had liked to buy me books. He hadn't known what to buy, not unless I told him, but he had liked to. And I liked to read them. Mom had said he was happy when I asked for books, but sometimes I didn't ask, even when I wanted them. Sometimes I thought that he would say what a silly thing it would be to spend money on. But he never did. Then I was old enough to buy what I wanted and it never came up again.
Hardcovers. Paperbacks. Falling-apartbacks. I thought of the novel I wanted to write but probably never would, the novel that shifted and morphed with whatever book I was reading. Maybe it was time to start—to really start—and get it out of me. Get it off of my brain, where it lingered like a picked-at sore. But there was other writing to do first, wasn’t there?
***
“Have you written about it yet?” Reynolds sipped his coffee. I looked beyond him, out through the Klas Center front window and onto the Hamline main square. Last night I’d seen Turner, went over to his house and visited, which gave me more pleasure than I was willing to admit.
“Not yet,” I said. “I want to, but don’t know where to start.” I thought back to a post I blogged, with moments and beats and different styles.
“I want to write about how he died.”
***
"I'm going to call the cops." She wouldn't go away. Not ever.
"Oh yeah. You do that." He watched her turn and walk from the bar.
He stared at the counter then followed after her. He ignored her shouts and got into his truck and peeled out of the parking lot.
His eyes flicked up to his rear-view mirror and he saw her mimic his exodus and follow. He focused back on the road.
If she'd just stay away, maybe everything would be all right, but his phone was ringing now, and he knew just by a look into his mirror that she was calling. Trying to reach him. She could forget about that.
"Just stay away." He muttered.
He sped up but she kept pace. Eyes on his side mirror now, she was riding much too close to him.
The phone was still ringing and he grabbed for it and he was going to tell her to just get the hell away from him, it was over and he was done. His eyes were away from the road and then he was rolling and rolling and rolling—
Thursday, February 07, 2008
6 Months Hence
I turn in the paperwork today to end my tenure as an assistant language teacher. I'll be leaving Japan, and I will miss it, but the last month has really impressed upon me that, even though I enjoy teaching here, I'm also quite done with it and want to move on. This last month I gave myself the chance to consider renewing my contract, but ultimately couldn't do it.
Depending on any plans, I should be back in the states come August or September.
Depending on any plans, I should be back in the states come August or September.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!!
I was looking forward to going to Elina's house for a sushi party on Saturday night, but because it turned out I had to work on Sunday, this plan was dashed. This was quite the blow for the party, since I planned to bring my Wii along and bust it out during the mid-party festivities. This is a special weekend for Wii players in Japan. While all the fanatics cry about it in American forums, the Japanese (and me, by default) are busy playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl.
Since I had Friday afternoon off, I joyously went to the city (boat, bus and footwork) to pick myself a copy. I'm always afraid of spending money in these instances, since Japanese media outlets are a cornocopia for japanaphiles. The gaming store has CDs, manga, DVDs and games from the NES era to the present day. Really anything I could ever want or hope for. They have this classic gaming corner with all the RPGs I grew up with, but in Japanese. Chrono Trigger? In the original Japanese? I sigh a lot lately, but I sigh there out of pleasure.
But Smash. Nintendo has got to be on the greatest streak in the world. It's perfect. The story mode, once you get past the audacity of its fan fiction qualities (Link meets Yoshi in the woods, Fox has tea with Zelda and Peach, Link and Zelda team up with Ganondorf despite his obvious desire to do them bodily harm), serves as a Nintendo grand tour. I came to admire it after awhile. There is no dialogue or explanation as to why these characters are together, yet they're distilled to their essences and play out their destinies according to their own internal logics.
The story mode took about eight hours to complete, and there's still more to it that I haven't quite puzzled out. But between the event matches, the single and all-star modes that you need to push 35 characters through, the stage builder, the trophy and sticker collection and the blessed online brawling, there's simply a wealth of activities.
A note about online brawling: I've never felt more satisfaction at having my ass handed to me. Despite my love of video games, I'm not that great a player, and it's telling in the online arena. But since it's anonymous and there's no ranking that would place me as the #1,673,294 brawler, I've found it's the best way to improve your game. I've seen characters used in ways I hadn't anticipated (someone trounced me and another brawler with Zelda last night using mostly long ranged attacks and some amazing evasion skills), and altered my play style accordingly.
Fun times, and I'm playing it a month before it's released in America. And I can't help gloating a little. It's too much fun not to.
Since I had Friday afternoon off, I joyously went to the city (boat, bus and footwork) to pick myself a copy. I'm always afraid of spending money in these instances, since Japanese media outlets are a cornocopia for japanaphiles. The gaming store has CDs, manga, DVDs and games from the NES era to the present day. Really anything I could ever want or hope for. They have this classic gaming corner with all the RPGs I grew up with, but in Japanese. Chrono Trigger? In the original Japanese? I sigh a lot lately, but I sigh there out of pleasure.
But Smash. Nintendo has got to be on the greatest streak in the world. It's perfect. The story mode, once you get past the audacity of its fan fiction qualities (Link meets Yoshi in the woods, Fox has tea with Zelda and Peach, Link and Zelda team up with Ganondorf despite his obvious desire to do them bodily harm), serves as a Nintendo grand tour. I came to admire it after awhile. There is no dialogue or explanation as to why these characters are together, yet they're distilled to their essences and play out their destinies according to their own internal logics.
The story mode took about eight hours to complete, and there's still more to it that I haven't quite puzzled out. But between the event matches, the single and all-star modes that you need to push 35 characters through, the stage builder, the trophy and sticker collection and the blessed online brawling, there's simply a wealth of activities.
A note about online brawling: I've never felt more satisfaction at having my ass handed to me. Despite my love of video games, I'm not that great a player, and it's telling in the online arena. But since it's anonymous and there's no ranking that would place me as the #1,673,294 brawler, I've found it's the best way to improve your game. I've seen characters used in ways I hadn't anticipated (someone trounced me and another brawler with Zelda last night using mostly long ranged attacks and some amazing evasion skills), and altered my play style accordingly.
Fun times, and I'm playing it a month before it's released in America. And I can't help gloating a little. It's too much fun not to.
Monday, January 28, 2008
a bit
Yamaguchi-sensei is absent this morning, so I find myself without any classes. I'm rather pleased with this, as it allows some time to prepare for others. I didn't work at all this weekend and instead spent it cleaning and organizing and trying to finish The God of Small Things. Enjoyable but colander-like, I can only read in bits and spurts before I move on to something else. I'd prefer to finish In Cold Blood, which I've been reading for over a month and a half, but keep setting aside for more pressing books.
More and more I've found that my priorities are shifting: Though by no means have I stopped procrastinating, the occurrences have lessened. I take a certain amount of pleasure from striking stuff off on a mental list: studying, reading, exercising and gaming. Even writing, which you'll see here in due course. I work on that a bit each day as well. But only a bit.
More and more I've found that my priorities are shifting: Though by no means have I stopped procrastinating, the occurrences have lessened. I take a certain amount of pleasure from striking stuff off on a mental list: studying, reading, exercising and gaming. Even writing, which you'll see here in due course. I work on that a bit each day as well. But only a bit.
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