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.

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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.

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

Curbing My Enthusiasm

AM

Least: At 9:40am, I clunked down the stairs with two bags of carefully selected bottles and cans. The fact that this very minor event was identical to that of last and all other weeks reminded me of how days can blur into weeks and weeks into a year. Time is travelling too fast and I think it is the mundane things that are to blame. Sometimes it is difficult to remember which day is which, until the wacky sound of the rubbish truck tootles through the window. Remembering which week we're in is another matter.

Most: At close to 11:35am, I once again found myself battling middle-aged women in the supermarket. To my joyous surprise, I was able to buy a tray of sashimi and a tray of katsuo tataki for 500 yen. It would be difficult to imagine being able to obtain the same delights anywhere else. Japanese people find it hard to believe that Australians eat so little fish and that it is so expensive. I wonder if we ate more like otters, if the price of high quality fish would go down. It will be very difficult to readjust whenever I return.


PM

Least: Between 2:45pm and 8:45pm, I robotically worked through no less than seven English lessons in a row. There were few if any highlights, but the lowlight was sitting in a room for forty minutes with apparently high level speakers who were determined to say nothing. One was a bike shop owner and other was a hotel receptionist and both seemed depressed about something. The most they spoke on a single sentence was about the ruined Japanese economy. The rest was short phrases with me continually trying to jolly them along. Easy but boring money.

Most: At about 9:45pm, the doorbell told me that my massive pizza had arrived. Rosie and I settled down for a quiet night in with a bottle of Soave, the pizza and Curb Your Enthusiasm. I had heard people speak about Curb You Enthusiasm in hushed tones before but the more episodes I see the better I think it gets and I actually found myself laughing kneeslappingly. After about five episodes I decided that I was too wine-blurred to fully appreciate further viewing so I slumped into a cheer, blissful sleep.

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.

AM

Least: At approximately 10:35am I awoke to find that the German riesling that improved my evening had removed its delicious cloak and had delivered me a mild hangover.

Most: At 11:18am I read on the BBC that during the Georgian War last year the Russians managed to shoot down a few of their own planes.

PM

Least: At about 1.30 I got wet feet on my way to the station. The umbrella didn't help much either because the rain was going sideways.

Most: Down at a sushi train in Namba I spotted an unusually fatty item drifting through my ken. I just had to eat it - the waitress said it was kujira bacon which confirmed my suspicions - whale. 1inch of meat and 4 inches of blubber. I'm not sure if it was delicious but it gave me heartburn.