Bunny and the Haircut

AM

Least: By 10:30am it was still raining. It had started last night and showed little sigh of letting up. When the weather service predicted 24mm of rain today, I thought it must be some kind of error. It seems there was no error and the day will be sodden and uncomfortable outdoors. At first the rain was a refreshing change, though after only a couple of hours, it just became dreary. At least I do not have to suffer the indignity of swimming to work.


Most: At close to 11:30am, I began reading Mr Cave's The Death of Bunny Munro. I had the feeling that readers and reviewers were holding their breath for this one, after the forest of wordy words in The Ass Saw the Angel. After having read the first few chapters, I was pleasantly surprised at the sparse writing and the fact the Cave's voice is still lurking in the characters. So far the book has mainly centred on Bunny's dirty thoughts and his philandering in Brighton. Both Brighton Rock and Kylie Minogue have been cleverly brought in as cultural reference points. I'll report back when the reading is done.

PM

Least: Just after 1:00pm, I boyishly went back to LABI in an attempt to gather G-Force (Gatchaman) figures from one of the hundred or so capsule machines on the top floor. My hopes for high for collecting 'Mark' as I dropped the coins into the first machine, but I was sorely disappointed as a character from a more obscure and hence less nostalgic cartoon rolled out. The same hopes were dashed after I lost 200 yen in the second machine. I now have two silly toys that I already have. Boring and stupid.

Most: At about 12:40pm, I walked into QB (Quick Beauty) House for a 1000 yen haircut. The flashing green light above the door indicated that I could be served immediately and I was. I was quickly sat down and interrogated in Japanese about what was to be done with my too-long hair. After some signs and some broken Japanese , the hairdresser, cut and shaved my hair quickly. When she had finished, an assistant came over to complete my cut. He trimmed the sides and used a mechanised cut-throat to remove hair from my ears and neck. It was the final part of the cut that made it a special experience. With a flick of a switch, the assistant began vacuuming my head, neck and shoulders. The result was a spectacular prickle-free head of freshly cut hair. Just a cut, but a thousand times better than Just Cuts at Melbourne Central. Gold,

The Monster in the Pond vs Gatchaman

AM

Least: At around 9:25am I began thanking Japan for sparing me from political advertising on TV. Although the election is big news, it it restricted to the news-ish programs. The downside however, is the rash of shouting vans that smite us from all angles. Most often, the occupants are white-gloved and waving to nobody in particular in a cartoony manner. Another sign is the clutches of men strolling the streets chanting chants and carrying yellow banners. Despite these attempts though, there seems no danger of election fever. I'm yet to speak to someone who thinks that either of the big parties will make any difference.

Most: At 10:50am, Rosie and I pedalled north towards the flea market at the Shitennoji Temple. On the way we made a very brief detour to look at the Matsumushi Zuka that apparently is still shaded by an 800 year old tree. As it turns out we were travelling up part of the Kumano Road which people have been treading for over 1000 years. Amazing, but not quite as amazing as the 5th Century burial mound near our local station or the monster that used to lurk in Mandai Ike (above) until it was banished in the 6th Century. Wow.

PM

Least: At 3:58pm, an ongoing problem with our washing machine sucked the little interest that was left out of the third hour after twelve. It's been boringly misfiring since the morning when a man in billowing pants and a do-rag appeared in our window and insisted that we move the infernal machine indoors. Three days later we shifted it back to the freshly painted balcony. The washing machine was evidently unimpressed and has been slightly less than automatic ever since. One day the incessant beeping will send it over the edge and onto the tram tracks.



Most: By about 12:10pm, my neck was being seared as we strolled around the flea market at Shitennoji. The number of stalls was vast as was the range of items for sale. Some of the more notable pieces of clutter were, ivory carvings, prehistoric stone tools, dismembered samurai armour, ancient ceramics, pipes, a flintlock gun, endless tools, buttons, cooked entrails, tiny fish and unwearable clothes. I settled on a piece of rank nostalgia - a board game depicting what we called G-Force but was called 'Kagaku ninja tai Gatchaman' in Japan. It is still in its packet complete with dice. How the game is meant to be played I'll never know.