River travel in Germany and Austria

Just got back yesterday from a family trip.

Five of us took a week long river cruise from Nuremburg, Germany to Vienna, Austria.  It was, on the whole, much better then I expected.  C and I like to try and do as much as possible while we travel.  The river cruise forced us to relax and take it easy.  Too be honest it was nice not having to re-learn public transportation systems, search for hotels and restaurants etc.  Towards the end however, C and I joked that we felt a bit like cattle- wake up, eat, be herded around, eat, rest, eat, sleep and repeat.

Nuremburg and Vienna were the only larger cities we visited.  We also had a day in Salzburg and the rest were tiny, picturesque towns along the Danube.

While the trip itself was quite nice and we were lucky to have near perfect (if COLD) weather for the entire trip.  However, on the trip to and from central Europe, Murphy was a constant traveling companion.

On the day we left for Europe, we hired a shuttle bus to take us too the Airport.  The appointed time came and went, so we called the company.

Turns out that the driver scheduled to take us simply decided not to show up to work that day and another driver was on the way.  So we waited for the new driver, but he still did not show up.  So we called the company again, and turns out the driver was lost.

After the driver shows up and we pile into the van, he runs completely up and over a curb while making a right hand turn.

Then we see him constantly fussing with a GPS rig.  Apparently he had absolutely no idea how to reach THE AIRPORT.  So we had to give him directions and nursemaid him all the way to our gate.  He also had trouble staying in his lane, and almost side swiped a semi-truck. (My parents still gave him a tiny tip, however, my tip to him was to learn to friggen drive.)

Then at the check in counter the clerk decided to only print four out of the five sets of boarding passes, and getting the situation fixed became a fifteen minute ordeal.

Of course, C is hasseled repeatedly at every security check.  One of the problems is that she changed her name when we married.  Airport security personnel, possessing an average IQ equivalent to that of a Rhesus Monkey cannot understand the large, bold printing that reads “Passport amended; see page XX” – where it states that her legal name has been changed.  After explaining to them, and on occasion, their supervisor, the simple matter that C has had one of her legal names changed, she still got pulled out of line at almost every leg of our journey.  Either they check everyone that is even the least bit unusual, or they are perverts looking to pester a beautiful woman.  Personally, I think the latter explanation is correct.

Then of course is the actual flight itself.  My parents paid for this trip, and the tour company told them that this was a Lufthansa flight.  We were happy with this because, as I have previously mentioned, American based airline companies are bottom of the barrel. 

This was not exactly an outright lie, as the last leg (hour) of our trip was on a Lufthansa plane, making it, technically, a Lufthansa flight.  (More on this later)

The other fourteen hours (LAX to SFO, SFO to Frankfurt) were on United Airlines.  The 747 we flew on from Frisco to Frankfurt was old.  (To be honest, every United 747 I have been on seems to have been old enough that one could expect stone spear heads to be uncovered if they ever bothered to renovate)

The in flight movies did not work.  Now airplane movies are generally mediocre at best, however I did not realize how important they were in helping one to forget that one is trapped in a little tube with four hundred strangers suspended a few nautical miles in the air.  By hour nine somewhere over the Atlantic the various cabins of the plane had descended into Lord of the Flies-esque inter-tribal warfare.  (I tried to seize power as war-chief but my long legs and the fully reclined seat ahead of me conspired to keep me pinned securely in seat 58-e.) 

Needless to say, morale was not improved when they announced that due to some mistake, a full supply of food had not been stowed, and that it would be really nice if some people could volunteer to not eat.  I volunteered to eat one of the flight attendants instead.

When we finally arrived in Nuremburg, we were pleased to discover two things.  One is that my father’s luggage was missing.  Two, is that my wife’s brand new, hard shell suitcase was destroyed.  One corner was entirely punched in.  On the other side, there was a large crack.  The entire exterior, that just a few hours before had been a shiny metallic silver, was now covered in black, red, and green stains. 

Now, the one silver lining in all this.  Remember how I said that since the last leg of the flight was on Lufthansa, it was technically a Lufthansa flight?  It also means that we got to deal with Lufthansa baggage service.  My father’s bag magically appeared in his cabin just a few hours after we left the airport.  My wife get fully reimbursed for her destroyed bag and it took only a couple of minutes at the Lufthansa baggage service.

More on the rest of the trip tomorrow.  This post is turning into a full length novel.

You want me to do WHAT to your daughters?

One thing I kind of miss from my early days of living in Japan is the language barrier.  Life can be a lot more entertaining when you do not have the slightest clue as to what is going on.  For example, when a woman invited me to sleep with her twin daughters.

So I was teaching an adult class back when I first moved to Japan.  One of my first classes consisted of several middle aged house wives in a beginning English class.  After a few weeks, one member of the class announced with a grin that I should sleep with her twin daughters.

The rest of the class brightened and nodded in agreement- apparently it would be a very good idea if I slept with the womans twin daughters.

To this notion I replied (being the suave and sophisticated individual that I am)  “uh…..o…k..?”  Now, I am not stupid enough to think for a second that she actually intended for me to sleep sleep with her daughters, but that still didnt change the fact that I could not even begin to guess what she actually meant.

Then another woman piped in “So you will sleep with her daughters?”  To which I managed a confident “Um…..shh..ure?”  At this point all the women were smiling and nodding that this was, in fact, an excellent idea.

Beginning to think that I was becoming the victim of some sort of practical joke, I asked “Why would you want me to sleep with your daughters?”

The reply was “To change your face.” 

“To change my face?”

“Yes.  Maybe your nose can become lower.”

“My nose?”

“Yes, it is too high.”

To make a long story short they were joking about softening my very foreign features from an old folk tale.  The belief was that parents sleeping with a new born baby is what passes on facial features from parents to their children.  Much to my dismay this old folk belief had absolutely nothing to do with menage-a-trois.

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. 

Flying the Unfriendly skies.

We made the mistake of flying an American airline company to travel to the U.S.

Before, when traveling between the U.S. and Japan, C and I would always buy an American Airlines ticket.  Not that we ever wanted to fly on American Airlines- but, every time we flew AA before, we actually rode on a Japan Airlines jet.  So we got JAL service, a far superior product, for the slightly cheaper AA price, plus we could rack up JAL frequent flier miles.

This sweet arrangement has ended apparently.  This time when we flew back to the States, we rode on a combination JAL/AA flight.  However, we had the misfortune of riding on an AA jet.  (I feel really bad for the poor saps who bought a more expensive JAL ticket but were suckered into an AA flight.)

In addition to the lack of free alcohol (and I generally try to recoup the cost of my ticket on international flights by consuming an equal value in liquor) The AA flight we took was like spending a day in a rest home.  Well that is not a fair comparison, and I apologize to rest homes everywhere. 

The average age of the flight attendants was maybe 65 years old, and most of these golden girls didn’t look a day under 60.  At least one of them was old enough that she probably got her start as a flight attendant for the Wright brothers.

Now, I do not have anything against senior citizens in the work force, as long as they can do the job.  However these flight attendants, in addition to being incredibly surly, asked their customers on more then a few occasions to assist in their duties.  I do have to admit that the plane seemed very new.  It was so new in fact, that the food they served on the plane probably outdated it by at least six months.

My biggest complaint however, was about my carry on.  I play a Japanese musical instrument slightly smaller then the average guitar.  On the AA website they claim that guitars would be allowed as a carry on bag.  I contacted the airlines and described the instrument, its dimensions, and the flight I was taking to make sure I could bring the instrument as my carry on bag.  They replied saying that it would be no problem.  Of course, when I got to the gate, I was forced to check my instrument.  In addition to being lied to when I contacted AA, the staff member at the gate insulted me and laughed at me for being indignant about insisting on bringing on my carry on.

So my question is, why does the U.S. government insist on bailing out the airline companies?  It is not just American Airlines that has poor service, in the last two years I have had the misfortune of flying United and Southwest as well.  I have flown on several different companies from several different countries.  Airline companies based in the States have an almost uniformly poor service.  In fact, everyone I know that flies more then once a decade does everything they can to avoid flying on a U.S. carrier.  The airlines do not need more bail-outs.  They need to offer a service worth buying.

Next time I have to cross the Pacific if faced with the choice of taking a U.S. airline or swimming, I think I would try the latter.

All I need now is my “00”

In about fifteen hours I will no longer be a resident of Japan.

I found out that the only way to not to pay the expensive residence tax is to give up my visa.  At least getting a residence visa in Japan is no where near as difficult as getting a residence visa in the States.

On the way back from getting a few odds and ends tied up, we were delayed by a good ninety minutes.  This was due to a traffic jam caused by a tiny fender-bender of an accident.  When I am delayed that long by traffic, I want to see blood on the asphalt.  Ok, I do not wantto see blood, but I didn`t want to be held up in traffic either.  I just want to be able to say “Ok, I was held up by thirty minutes, but that guy lost part of his hand.  Thus the cosmic balance is restored.”  I mean, if I am inconvenienced in the slightest, I at least want a decent reason for it.  Rough guidelines for maintaining karmic balance between other`s tragedy and my inconvienince are as follows-

30 min delay- massive vehicle damage.

1 Hour delay- Maiming.

2 hour delay- three words “Orphanage bus fire.”

My wallet currently holds $50 U.S.,  200 Euros, 5,000 yen and a random assortment of British Pounds, Thai Baht, Korean Won, and Chinese Yuan.  It also contains various IDs in Japanese and in English.  I feel mildly like a secret agent, though, obviously not a very well-funded one. 

Neither C nor I are looking forward to another trans-Pacific flight.  At least we can say our biggest concerns at this point is weather or not they will let me take my shamisen as my carry-on and weather or not the in-flight movies are any good.  Obviously, things are not going too poorly.  Next time I update will be from the states.

Living in Japan: Turning on the Cold

Japanese people insist that Japan has four seasons. If you hear them tell it, Japan just might be the only place in the world that has four seasons. Where I live in Japan, however, this is patently false.

One question I am frequently asked here is “Do you have four seasons in your home country?” To which I reply “No, I am from southern California. We only have two seasons, pretty warm and kind of warm.” However, what they do not want to hear, is that southern Japan, at least, really only has two seasons as well- uncomfortably hot and humid and uncomfortably cold and dry. There is, at most, a two week transitional period between the hot and cold seasons. These two week periods are labeled “Spring” and “Fall” respectively. (Or Autumn, if their first English instructor was from the U.K.)

No, compared to some places the summers here are not that hot, nor are the winters that cold. However, most buildings in Japan are not properly insulated. In addition to that, traditional Japanese architecture was designed when there was no air conditioning and is meant to be as cool as possible in the summer, and most dwellings still follow this general plan. What this means today is that during the summer, you are almost always hot and winter means you are almost always cold.

Many people, especially Canadians, do not really grasp this concept, and they say “Ha-HA! I am from Canada where in the winter it gets down to minus one billion degrees! You Americans just do not know what cold is!”

Well the fact is that they do not know what cold is, either. Most places where it gets cold, really cold, in the winter, people move from their heated homes to their heated garages, get in in their heated cars and drive to their heated offices or stores.

There is a reason that electronic, heated toilet seats sell so well in Japan. A general lack of insulation along with a reliance on kerosene heaters mean that if it is zero degrees outside, then when you wake up to use the toilet early in the a.m…. that toilet seat is most likely a roasty toasty zero degrees as well. In the words of one foreigner living in Japan- “Wow… where I am from we just heat the whole house.” I have, on occasion, found the inside of my freezer to be slightly warmer then the rest of my apartment. The refrigerator was down right toasty.

Of course, in the office the thermostat is run by the boss. All bosses only have two settings on their thermostat- way too hot and way too cold. Which they use depends both on the season and if the boss is actually present in the office. If the boss is present in the office, then the thermostat is always set so that in winter people are passing out from the heat where in summer, the occasional case of frostbite is not unknown. If the boss is not present, then the settings are reversed- During winter at most, a single candle may be used for heat, but only after the temperature has dropped below freezing. During the summer the aircon may be employed, but the thermostat must be set at thirty degrees Celsius. This is because companies in Japan view their workers like family, and as everyone knows, most people hate their family.
Since I have returned from Europe, the weather started as rather warm, but day by day the temperature is dropping and I am looking forward to a nice, warm California winter.

Just a short update.

Almost three hours left and so far Ron Paul supporters have raised almost $3.3 million. I think that settles once and for all weather or not Ron Paul has any “real support” or not. I even support Ron Paul and I am a bit shocked at this kind of turn out.

Investment tip- Buy crow futures. A LOT of professional political pundits predicted and projected that Ron Paul could not produce the support to persevere in the Republican primaries. (alliteration for the win!) I figure that there will be many servings of crow to go around. This isn’t the same as winning the primaries…. but nothing is the same as winning primaries except, winning the primaries. Straw polls, phone polls, debate polls, and fundraising means nothing at all after the votes are counted.

I wonder if this guy is sweating just a tiny bit- he bets every penny he has that Ron Paul will not win the general election.

In completely unrelated news, C and I have our plane tickets to travel to the U.S. We will be there in time for turkey-day.

Edit to add: Hard to tell exactly how much was donated online- they added a chunk of offline donations but it looks to be just a hair under $4 million if it didnt break it.  The news sites are all vastly under-reporting the fundraising but I believe that the donations were just pouring in so fast that they cant get a handle on it.  Even online news has some kind of delay.

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.