Vinegar and Milk

AM

The AMs of this week have been characterised by cool crisp mornings. Not quite cold enough to be interesting, but cold enough to make it extremely difficult to get out of bed. My Sunday morning was destroyed by a hangover caused by a misadventure in the PM hours of Saturday. At 11:45am, I opted for a Family Mart cure in which I included the greasiest food items I could procure. The crumbed chicken on rice set, had a hangover-fighting layer of skin wedged in between the flesh and the oiled crumbs. The FamiChiki [ファミチキ] (right), was from the thigh of the bird, heavily crumbed and deep deep fried - one bite sent a torrent of oils down my hand. With a bottle of Pocari Sweat, the cure worked to a degree - I didn't die. In my delerium though, I bought a strange drink, for the sole reason that it was strange. The words Vinegar and Milk (right) shouted at me from the fridge and for some reason, I bought it and for some other reason, it would haunt me later in the PM hours.




PM

By 7:00pm, I was sufficiently recovered to think about heading next door for a meal of fajitas. The  fajitas were just what I needed to seal my health. In fact, they continued the chickeny theme of the day by including some very well seasoned breast meat. Soon, the meal turned into a game of UNO, and the card game became a college-esque drinking game - the draw four was a nightmare. Because I was still convelescing from my Takoyaki Party* -induced illness, I chose not to drink. To be polite, though, and to give me a reason to play cards to win, I fetched my bottle of Vinegar and Milk to sit in as my poison. Although it had been sitting on my desk for seven hours, it wasn't curdled. It's flavour immediately took me back to time when I've 'licked the spoon' only to find the mixture was for some sour lemon tart - horrifying. For about two hours I grimaced through the drink, and despite all my hopes, it actually got worse with every sip. When I had finally finished I chose a 16 vegetable drink for my next project. It wasn't much better.

________________________________
* The takoyaki party was held at my Nakamozu School in the PM of Saturday. The main damage was done by tequila and whiskey  - the reason I drank these is still unknown. I still shudder.

Lost in Umeda

Sunday 8th November 2009

AM

Least: At nearly 8:30am, my eyes opened to find that I had a serious hangover. The mixture of beer,chu-hi and champagne took its toll and gave me a searing headache. The shock of seeing my mother sitting on my couch last night was a sobering experience and hid the real level of drunkeness that I had attained at the takoyaki party. I just wish the reminder was a faint memory rather than a stinking headache.

Most: At 8:31am, despite my confusion and headache, it came back to me that mum had made a surprise visit and was snoring on the couch. It's weird how time seems to compress when people so familiar tunr up. It seems like yesterday, when Mum and Dad were here in February, or when I was eating roast lamb in August. I make Mum poached eggs on toast for breakfast and we ate while trying to decide what to do for the day.

PM

Least: Just after 1:00pm, I, with Rosie and Mum, was once again stumbling around, lost in Umeda trying to find the Sky Building. It is such a warren that even above ground it is almost impossible to confidently navigate the area. The problem is, that every corner looks the same and that after making any turn, any familiar landmarks immediately disappear. When I finally spotted the sky building, it was still a long walk away - they must have found some cheap land to build it on, because it's off by itself with little around it. Signs please.

Most: At about 1:20pm, as we ascended the Umeda Sky Building, Mum screamed at the glass lift rocketed up forty floors. By the time we were on the escalators that cross the building, Mum was very giddy. From the top of the tower, the familiar smog hid the horizon. Although this was my second visit to the building, the view still amazed me. The density of the city is incredibly and it seems to fill every possible area for building. Despite the agony of finding the place, it was worth the walk.

The Rumour

Sunday 1st November 2009

AM

Least: At nearly 10:00am, I opened my eyes to a fairly minor hangover. It was made worse by the shuddering thought of the 10000 yen food bill from last night. Luckily the money went mostly on the tuna"s belly rather than beer. Things could be worse.

Most: At about 10:25am, I checked my social networking site to find that rumours had begun in Melbourne about my plans for next year. According to the scuttlebutt, I am to return to Australia in time for the 2010 school year at my former work place. Time will tell if the rumours are true or not.

PM

Least: By 1:00pm, the beautiful morning had given way to a torrential downpour. It was amazing to look our the front window to find sheets of water washing the streets clean. Hours, later the rain continued, making going outdoors far less attractive.

Most: Sometime after 8:00pm and a delicious Thai meal, Rosie and I walked down the steps at Hokage to see several punk bands play including Melbourne's Pisschrist. The bands were mostly good, but the sheer volume of the sound system in such a small room was almost unbearable. The gig finished with Yeap from Pisschrist relentlessly crowd surfing, clearly enjoying the attention of the punters. A key highlight was one singers massive mohawk pictured right.

Travel in the Time of Tiredness

Saturday 10th October 2009

AM

Least: At close to 9:30am, I sat on the nearly full train and sat in one of the few remaining seats. In the seat facing me was a young women who clearly had an appalling hangover. My guess is that she had been out all night and had caught a morning train home. The sour smell of booze and cigarette smoke hung in the air even after she departed a few stops down the line. Thankfully she didn't vomit in my lap.

Most: Between 9:13am and about 10:40pm, I travelled my usual route to Wakayama. Today I barely noticed the trip as if I was in some sort of travel coma. As usual I listened to my iPod and read a book - this time Joseph Conrad's tricky Nostromo. Despite a quarter of an hour delay at Izumi-Sunagawa, I barely registered the usual pain of travelling so far so early. It is amazing how the brain finally gives up resisting after many months of routine - I hope it lasts.

PM

Least: By 4:40pm, I was very nearly nodding off during a lesson. A few late nights and the inking of a flu left me dizzy with sleepy bordem. I tried to doze off just a little while my student was reading the textbook. I wonder if he noticed, and I wonder whether there's some type of Zen meditation that allows me to sleep while appearing to be fully awake?

Most: After 10:00pm, the night began to get cold. This unusual feeling left me reaching for the doona, and wondering when the right time will be to put the heater on. With the onset of summer, there was a pissing contest among some expats for who could last the longest without using an airconditioner. One paticularly ernest fellow claimed to have never switched it on despite the opressive heat. I wonder if I will recieve snarls when I finally decide it's cold enough to start heating the house?

Retching and Relaxation

AM

Least: At just past 8:00am, I woke with an absolutely searing headache and relentless nausea. It was the hangover that I had been expecting, however the shock of its ferocity caught me unawares. While the nurofen dullled the pain, all I could think of was how dull my day was going to be until the menace passed. I think the most damage as done by umeshu the sweeter than sweet Japanese plum wine. Even while I was drinking last night, I knew deep down that I would really pay for it later. At only ten percent alcohol, it is a weakling, but when combined with cheap beer it can become lethal. The hangover coloured my entire AM period and I couldn't rise until a surprise at the door dragged me out of my malaise.

Most: At about 11:10am, the doorbell unexpectely rang. It was a deliverman, dropping off a box of incredibly entertaining electronics. Late on Friday night, I had ordered a Playstation 3 from Amazon to relieve my morning boredom. Incredibly, it only took about forty hours to arrive - an on a Sunday. The package was carefully wrapped and included my other purchase John Steinbeck's The Pearl. The delivery tore me from the clutches of my hangover and condsiderably improved my morning.

PM

Least: At nearly 2:00pm, I decided on a high-risk strategy to add certainty to the end of my hangover. The sushi-train restaurant was busy and I thought that the colour and movement might distract me from my internal issues. The near trouble erupted when huge gaps in the conveyer appeared and a hush fell on the eatery. One of the few things left doing laps around the room was a disgusting plate of cocktail-frank sushi (see a similar meal right) complete with an artistically place strip of nori holding it together. For five minutes, my stomach churned at the thought of this meal, until a fresh batch of the blandly harmless salmon appeared just in time. The rice was still warm and the least interesting sushi saved the day.

Most: At 2:35pm, I strolled through Namba parks on my way to Labi to buy a game for my new toy. I was struck by how relaxed everyone seemed. With a four-day holiday beginning, it was a change to see couples holding hands, fathers with children, people walking slowly and the shops teeming at twoish in the afternoon. Given the outrageous hours that many people work, perhaps it is not too surprising that the Japanese have achieve art in their relaxation techniques. For some reason, my stroll today reminded me of a perfect early summer day in Melbourne and made me a little homesick.

Small Mercies and a Bad Lunch

AM

Least: By 10:10am, I came to the impossibly boring realisation that instead of finishing work early, I had to do three hours of overtime, then my usual six hours. My six hour day had suddenly turned into a nine hour day with an incredibly inconvenient hour gap in the middle. A few hours later, I was able to spend a cool fifteen minutes at home scoffing a paltry lunch of crap from the Family Mart (see below). I believe I was duped into doing the overtime, with the keyword missing from my phone conversation on Tuesday. The minor hangover didn't help either.

Most: At 8:00am, my alarm tore me out my slumber and set the train in motion to get ready for work. The amazing thing, was that after last night's debauchery, I was almost free of any hangover symptoms. Maybe it was the thirteen plates of sushi that I had inhaled before going to T's Kitchen. In a day of disappointments (see above), the lack of a serious hangover was a small mercy that prevented a bad day becoming worse.

PM

Least: At about 1:20pm, it dawned on me that my decision to return home after morning training was a foolish one. By the time the slower than slow train reached Tezukayama, I had walked to the Family Mart and then home, I had only fifteen minutes to relax in shoeless homely glory. As I ate my cobbled together lunch of a convienince egg sandwich and an onigiri, I couldn't help thinking of what could've been. I pictured the sushi conveyor, full of delights doing laps around the restaurant without me. I then pictured the pile of plates that could've sat in front of me just before 1:45pm. I reckon the pile could've been fifteen high.

Most: At 6:10pm, I was bracing to make good on my agreement to hand out tissues at Nazamozu station after being propositioned by the busy-bee staff. A few minutes later, I heard the barking of a political rally crashing through the third floor window. By some miracle, the local government had decided that my time of need was the also the perfect time to give speeches to the masses. Thankfully, the masses were so numerous that it was impossible to carry out the tissues mission. This was the second, slightly larger mercy for the day. In lieu of the tissue distribution, I merely had to suffer the indignation of stuffing them while talking to an eighteen year old schoolgirl. The schoolgirl has a school concert tomorrow - she is doing a dance routine.

The Man Pissing Against the Police Station

AM

Least: By 8:40am, it was clear that I had an unfairly severe hangover from last night's bottle of Soave white wine. With the heat attacking me through the window and the mechanic across the road using a machine to undo wheelnuts, I had no choice but to ride it out awake. By the time the symptoms subsided, the morning was but a shell and just as empty. I didn't go for a walk, I didn't see anyone nor did I speak to anyone. All I could really think of was the fact that tomorrow morning, I'll have to drag myself down to Wakayama once more.

Most: At close to 11:00am, I salvaged the last part of the am period by making toast. Although this is far from interesting, it was still the most interesting event of the morning. As I spread the strange Japanese margarine and the familiar blackness of the Vegemite, I thought about how small events can take on new meaning during an empty time period. I thought about the several-dozen times that I have tried to explain the joys of vegemite on buttery toast to Japanese or American people each time to no avail. Perhaps it is interesting for some people, how I can my countrymen can stomach such a salty, foul coloured sludge. Working as teachers we are all a sideshow.

PM

Least: Close to 3:30pm riding home from Namba, I became all too aware of the shoddy construction of my bike. The Impression was a sleek, black and smooth ride when I bought it for 10000yen in Tezukayama. The bikeshop staff were helpful have even pumped up my tires a couple of times. The problem is, that within only a few months of pedalling, the Chinese-made vehicle is coming apart at the seams. I have noticed that the Impression is an incredibly popular bike - I wonder if all those dreams end in the same way mine has?

Most: At about 12:30pm as I was riding towards Namba, I spotted a homeless guy pissing against the local police station. The Nishinari police station is a formerly gleaming white tower, amongst the run down shops and house in that area. Just metres away is a series of shanties built mostly of plywood and the ubiquitous blue tarpaulins. The lasting impression of the neighbourhood is of old men standing or lying around waiting for something or nothing to happen. Some hours later, when I rode past on my way home, several of the same men were still sitting where I had seen them last. The police tower might show a good example of spending in the wrong area - maybe a few more jobs for older men might've been money better spent. There have been  riots there where the police showed little mercy and removed or arrested many homeless people. Maybe the man pissing against the police station was making a political statement.

___________________________
Food note: For lunch I ate at Kua 'Aina Sandwich Japan. I ordered the 1/2lb Bacon Burger set with a drink and fries. The burger was deliciously beefy and salty with surprisingly good bread for Japan. Highly recomended.

___________________________

Post script: Terry Ito in Splatball Form (see The Problem With Terry):

"Please don't mention the airconditioner..."

AM

Least: By about 12:40am, Rosie and I had been standing in the rain outside a Family Mart in America Mura for 30 minutes. It was time to leave. Although quite drunk, I found the wettening of my clothes very disheartening. No gen X'er or Y'er seems to have the inclination to lead, so our party was stranded in the rain. I wonder how long they stood there?

Most: By 12:50am, Rosie and I skulked away to Jokerman (file photo above), just a block way from the abovementioned watery delay. The barman was drinking with his girlfriend and was soon arguing with her about buying a new air-conditioner. Despite the mad decision to keep drinking, Jokerman was great as usual. By some amazing co-incidence, the barman seems to share my musical taste. A while ago, during some 1970s Bob Dylan song, he asked - 'Do you like Brutal Truth?' Every time we visit, he plays 'Walking Corpse' as we pay the bill and say goodnight. It's like he has turned my ipod into a bar. I ate beef jerky and oily sardines. They are now adding a certain flavour to my severe hangover.

PM

Least: At 2:42pm, Rosie and I walked down the fights of stairs in an attempt to catch the next train. By risking the illegal parking at the station we could've just made it. Unfortunately our bikes weren't where we predicted. They were already at the station and had been since approximately 6:45pm yesterday. Thankfully they hadn't been taken by the local authorities to their lair for ransom. This time we were lucky. We gave up on catching the train.

Most: By 8:15pm, I was dozing to one of the only palatable shows on TV. A comedian dressed as a schoolgirl with very thick eyebrows travels the world getting into awkward and dangerous situations. Tonight she was marathon training in Kenya, chasing dust storms with a dust-based Mona Lisa and being engulfed by a swarm of bees while collecting honey. The video shows Ayako Imoto vs. various animals - see if she outruns the cheetah!

Feeding an Aching Head

AM

Least: This morning at about 8:20am I awoke from an apparently fitful sleep with an unfair headache delivered to me by a few glasses of white wine. If I had to go to work in this condition I might be considered a hard worker.

Most: Between about 10:20am and 10:40am I read a long piece in the LRB on the letters of Marcus Aurelius. What made the reading interesting was the fact that 80 of his letters were discovered in the early 19th Century hiding on reused parchments from the First Church Council in the AD451. The article reminded me that the process of collating and interpreting text puts a great distance between what we read and the author's original intention. Good brain food.

PM

Least: At about 1:50pm I rolled to the Kohyo supermarket in search of quality coffee only to find the shelves of overpriced Lavazza empty. I was forced to experiment with a tin of UCC Original Blend. The experiment was a partial success. It's minerally flavour and corporate logo recalled my visit to the UCC shrine up in Koya San (right).

Most: Soon after 5:30pm, Rosie and I began riding our bikes toward Daikokucho and a meeting with friends for a meal. On the way we stumbled across some kinda summer festival in Tamade. Apart from the important cultural rituals were stall after stall of kids games, goldfish, chickens, tortoises, booze and yakitori. A few people were really drunk and a few people won insignificant toys by shooting airguns. It was relaxing to mingle with other people relaxing. Our meal was great but we missed Birushanah.