Montel Williams threatens National Security

So I read another article of “B” list celebrities behaving stupidly here.  The gist of it is Montel Williams made bizarre threats against reporters who were covering charity work he was doing.

My favorite line from the article is Montel Williams telling someone “Do you know who I am? I’m a big star, and I can look you up, find where you live and blow you up.”

Which is hilarious for so many reasons.  Since when has Montel Williams become a big star?  He runs a day time talk show that is about as hard hitting as a Barbara Walters interview.  As for blowing people up, the only domestic terrorists in recent years have been backed by PETA,  so unless he plans to join Ingrid Newkirk’s cult, he might find it hard to carry out his threats.

My question is, however, does anyone else lose a little respect for celebrities who champion causes that affect them?  I don’t blame anyone for trying to escape the clutches of some horrible disease, but, I have to be a little cynical when they try to take on the mantle of selfless devotee of the afflicted, when, they are really only trying to keep their own butt out of the coffin.  Yes, some good comes out of people like Christopher Reeve, Montel Williams, and Michael J. Fox raising cash for a worthy cause.  I wonder how much attention they paid before their own lives were on the line.

 It seems that people like Elizabeth Taylor and Gregory Peck who raise money for diseases they do not actually have, are becoming increasingly rare.

The Return of the Yokozuna

Yesterday Mongolian born Yokozuna(Grand Champion Sumo wrestler), Asashoryu returned to Japan.  He also offered his formal apologies for the actions that led to his suspension.

This story begins a few months ago when Asashoryu neglected his duties as Yokozuna, avoiding an exhibition tour, claiming that he needed medical treatment and rest for an injured elbow and a stress fracture in his lower back.

Apparently part of his medical treatment included playing soccer with Japanese professional player in front of TV cameras in a charity event in Mongolia.  Asashoryu later claimed that he had only done so at the request of the Mongolian government and the Japanese Foreign Ministry.

The Sumo Association didn’t buy that story, however, and banned him from the August and November tournaments, marking the first time in the sport’s lengthy history that a Yokozuna has been banned from a main tournament.  His movements were also restricted by the Sumo Association to his home, the hospital, and his training stable.

In a decidedly Britteny Spears like twist to the story, he was diagnosed with acute stress disorder and dissociative order, and was then allowed to return to Mongolia for treatment.

All I can say is at least he wasn’t murdering pit bulls or ex-wives unlike other famous athletes I could mention.

Asashoryu is no stranger to scandal.  Before he was promoted to Yokozuna, he was known to yell or complain after losing matches, something that is very taboo in the formal atmosphere of a sumo match.  Also in July tournament of 2003 Asashoryu pulled the hair of his opponent, which resulted in his immediate disqualification.  He has also been accused of breaking a mirror of a rival’s car. 

Unfortunately these scandals only serve to tarnish the career of what otherwise would be one of the greatest wrestlers Sumo has seen in its 700 year history. 

Getting settled. Again.

Its funny.  You would think that being unemployed would give me a lot of free time.  Unfortunately it has not.

The day after returning to the U.S. I had to server jury duty.  I had been postponing it for about two years with six month extensions.  Apparently the good people at the jury services office just could not understand the concept of living outside the country.  So I got to spend my first full day in the states not enjoying the company of my family, but sleeping in a room full of strangers.  (Going west across the dateline I handle well, but for some reason going east across the Pacific always throws me for a loop and my sleep schedule still isn’t stabilized.  Just last night I couldn’t keep my eyes open past 10:30 and I woke up completely refreshed at the sensible hour of 4:45 in the a.m.)  Obviously no jurors were actually called on that day- they were half ready to riot at having to serve jury duty the day before Thanksgiving.  They would have condemned Mother Theresa to the gas chamber out of spite. 

Being completely jet  lagged while serving jury duty made for an interesting experience.  While sleeping soundly in my chair, some elderly gentleman thought it would be a good idea to wake me up by touching my hand.  I, of course, made the sensible response of leaping out of my chair, and throwing punches in the air.  I might have yelled something too, I am not sure.  I did have the good fortune of being in the courthouse cafeteria and there were few people about.

Also as readers of my blog may have gathered, I am a slightly sarcastic person.  In Japan I usually would make snide remarks about people in English.  While my wife and I were in Europe, I would keep my witty comments confined to the Japanese language.

So while serving jury duty I was watching a young woman play Hearts on a laptop.  I also may have, possibly, commented on her lack of ability at playing the game.  When I allegedly made those comments, I was also possibly located about three feet from her.  Due to my jet-lag, I may have made those comments in English, and in a loud voice.  At which point she may have paused the game, turned around and looked at me.  To which I may or may not have replied “Well, its a good day to practice, right?” and given her a little wave.

Since serving Jury Duty, I had to spend the day at the Social Security office trying to get my wife assigned a SSN.  (A story for another day.)  Coming down with a nasty cold, and my mom undergoing a three hour surgery.  I plan to update more regularly from here on out. 

Living in Japan: The only word you need to know.

Near mastery of the Japanese language comes from the mastery of just one word. Seriously. You may think I am pulling your leg… but I am most definitely not.

“But what about all those language books? What about people who study the language for years? Surely the entire language cant be reduced to just one word!”

I say, however, that it can. All those books and language courses covering verbs? Kanji? Grammatical structure? It is all just a gimmick to extract more money from you, the unwary consumer.

Sure, if you study the language in depth you may be able to understand and appreciate the subtle nuances of the Japanese language. However, as my mastery of the language increases I have discovered one inconvenient truth.

Like most speakers of the English language, many speakers of Japanese have little to say that is very interesting.

For a long time when speaking with people in English, I have found it is far more interesting to not listen to what they have to say, but rather carry on an imaginary conversation. Either that or play Tetris in my head, a game at which I am becoming quite proficient. (In my head, not in real life.) Now, more and more, I find that I am forced to do the same things when speaking Japanese in order to preserve my sanity. The more I study Japanese, the less return I get from my investment. In this article, I seek to give you, the reader, maximum return for minimum investment.

If I were to write a book on learning the Japanese language, it would contain one thousand pages. One page would contain text. The other nine hundred and ninety nine would just be pictures of samurai swords (nihon-to!) and Sumo wrestlers.
(Because the only thing in this world cooler then Sumo wrestlers and samurai swords are Sumo wrestlers with samurai swords.)

So I can hear you already yelling at your screen, impotent with rage- “What is the word, that we may too, have an absolute mastery over the Japanese language?”

The word is “Chotto.”

Technically, it means “little” or “a little” but in reality it means so much more.

For example say someone asks you “Would you like some more tea?” you can reply with “mmmm…. chotto.” Which is shorthand for “Yes, thank you for your offer, I would indeed like some more tea, please.”

Or if someone asks you to a social engagement to which you are unable or unwilling to attend, you can reply with “(sucking air between clenched teeth) … cho-ttoooo…” which is shorthand for “Thank you very much for the invitation, but I am sorry to say I must respectfully decline.”

Or if you see someone about to inadvertently put themselves in danger you can yell “Chotto! Chotto chotto!” which is shorthand for “Excuse me, but you are about to commit an act in which I fear you may place yourself in physical danger. Please take another moment to reconsider and to pay a bit more attention to your immediate surroundings.”

Or perhaps you are at a club with your significant other, and an interloper is becoming far to familiar with your date you can give them a stern “CHO-tto!” which, of course, is shorthand for “Pardon me, but I must say that you are becoming a bit friendlier with my date then I feel exactly comfortable with. If you do not cease and desist post-haste, I am afraid I will have to resort to fisticuffs to resolve the situation and to protect mine and my romantic partner`s honor.”

Or perhaps, after failing yet another game of Tetris you could express your frustration with a heartfelt “choottooooooo…” which is a convenient shorthand for “I must say, after much study and preparation, I feel my progress is not what it should be. I lament yet again at the unfairness of life, and while all is rosy and fair with all the other inhabitants of this glorious celestial sphere, my life is the nexus of all sorrow and pain. My only recourse is to write bad poetry, wear second hand clothes, and listen to untalented musicians.”

There are many other uses of the word “chotto” but you will simply just have to wait until my thousand page book is published.

Teaching in Japan: Learning to write the number “5”

I am embarrassed to admit it, but it took me twenty three years before I learned how to write the number 5.

I blame my public school education.

My fives looked like fives alright. But, you can imagine how shocked and appalled I was to learn at the age of twenty three that my fives were not fives at all. Yet this condition had persisted from elementary school through university. The most embarrassing part is that it took an eight year old to correct me.

I had just recently started teaching English in elementary schools and I thought I had finally gotten a handle on teaching children and the basic cultural differences between Japan and America. The lesson was supposed to be a simple one- I had already taught basic numbers and we had moved on into learning how to tell time. Their regular teacher was supposed to have brought a clock for me to use, which of course had been forgotten. So, I improvised by writing times on the white board. When I first wrote that ill-begotten five, I knew something was wrong. A murmur raced across the thirty-odd fourth graders. Their teacher, never the friendliest or the most helpful of people looked on disapprovingly. Not realizing the problem, I moved on with the lesson even though this unusual reaction to a simple number had me slightly unnerved.

You see that what I was writing indeed resembled a normal five for all intents and purposes, I had not written it in the correct manner. This of course, made all my efforts simply futile. The Japanese used a writing system based on Chinese characters. Since the Japanese use roughly two thousand of these characters in their day-to-day life, one can imagine that it is quite a feat to memorize enough to be functionally literate. In order to help memorize these characters and have the average person produce something legible, each stroke of a character must be written in a very specific order. In the broad strokes (pun intended) the order is top to bottom, left to right.

Since this is the proper way to write kanji (the aforementioned Chinese characters) it is also applied when writing the Latin Alphabet. In Japan, students are taught to write the down stroke and curve of their five first. Then lift their pen and draw the horizontal bar, starting from the vertical bit, and going out. I draw my fives in one stroke, like an “s”. Thus the battle lines were drawn.

After the class finished, as the students returned to their class their teacher informed me of the grievous error I had committed. Diplomacy not being one of my strong skills, I told her as politely as I could given our mutual language barrier, to piss off. (Did you think Selfrighteousjerk is a title I gave myself?)

Obviously this wasn’t acceptable.

On my next break I returned to the teachers office, unaware of the ambush that awaited me. As I entered the room, I noticed the vice-principal waiting by my desk. A very forceful woman, even under the friendliest of circumstances she made it clear, to the best of her ability, that my fives were absolutely one hundred percent unacceptable. I made it clear, to the best of my ability that I did not care.

Was there a problem with my penmanship? No. Did my fives not look like proper fives? No. I failed to grasp what the problem was, and therefore I refused to accommodate their wishes just to fit in.

The vice-principal, on the other hand, persisted in her position that my fives were not real fives at all.

After a few minutes of insisting us insisting that the other was wrong, the argument began to get quite heated and soon, the vice-principal stormed off in frustration, while I sat down to enjoy a victory coffee.

My sense of triumph, and my victory coffee was cut short by a summons to the principals office. As I changed my regular slippers for principal`s office slippers, I prepared myself for round two. (In Japan, they don’t wear their shoes inside of school buildings, either.)

The principal of the school was an older man nearing retirement, and the first level headed person to be involved in the situation. He explained, to the best of his ability that it was important for the students to have consistency from every teacher. Still not understanding his point, I relented.

But now I think I do.

Western culture has firm roots on Greek philosophy, where Japan is not. In America we believe that what something looks like, and what it is does not have to be the same thing. If, for example, a hiker in the states was to wear a full suit of brand new alpine gear, he could expect to receive a few giggles in his direction. After all, if he was a real hiker, he wouldnt need to try so hard, right? In Japan this just isn’t the case. Everyone wears a uniform, all the time. Students wear their school uniforms, salarymen wear their identical suits with identical haircuts. Thuggish Yankii (from the word Yankee) wear track suits and housewives wear their aprons. Even Yakuza (mobsters) maintain an easily spotted dress code and haircut.
With very few exceptions, everyone wears the uniform of the group they identify with. The idea of a “poser” simply isn’t something that is given too much thought.

Of course, following this episode, only one thing changed. Having no other option and refusing to submit, I resorted passive-aggressive tactics and began to prepare my board before class where I could write my fatally flawed number five without harassment.