Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife

LEGO: Dragon Battle

2012-02-27T08:01:00.001-05:00

Another week, another miniature LEGO diorama. Yes, I am 47-years-old, and yes, I like building things with LEGO. No, I never played with them as a child, and yes, I purchase them under the pretense of doing so solely for my six-year-old son, Hudson.

While this one, lucky number seven, will probably be my last diorama for a while, I did have a lot of fun over the past four nights putting it together.

And, should you so desire, please check out my other LEGO dioramas:
LEGO DIORAMA 1
LEGO DIORAMA 2
LEGO DIORAMA 3
LEGO DIORAMA 4
LEGO DIORAMA 5
LEGO DIORAMA 6

Welcome to my vision of a fantastic dragon battle in feudal Japan.

To say the creation process has a mind of its own would be obvious. I build LEGO much the same way I write. I have no idea what I am going to do until it is done, despite any ill-conceived plans.

Originally supposed to be some as as yet imagined vista that was going to include a meeting area with a delicate water garden with flower petals in it, the diorama instead turned into a scene of mayhem with a dragon (ryu) attacking a temple (ji). Perhaps it had something to do with 2012 being the Year of The Dragon, of which I happen to be one. The fact that my name in Japanese is: An-do-ryu (peaceful-leader-dragon) had nothing to do with why I chose to build this scene, but might explain why I had a LEGO dragon lying around the house to begin with.

Four minifig (miniature figurine) LEGO warriors (one dead) battle a dragon as it thrusts its head through a torii (temple gate).

The dragon in his fury at having been chained up for so long, has after breaking free gone after anyone and anything, alighting from the sky into a temple courtyard. His fearsome head through the gate, he attacks the poor warriors, knocking one to the side killing him instantly as another ducks backwards. Its heavily muscled wing smashes part of a tree while razor-sharp claws pull down part of the torii narrowly missing its attackers. Continuing his assault, the dragon thrashes its massive head at a small bell tower throwing it up into the air... but does it see the white ninja leaping from atop the flying debris with a mace in his hand?

With all my photos, by clicking on them, they should expand to its full size.

This diorama is 14-inches x 11-inches and 8-inches high, flowing over thanks to the dragon's wings and claws from a standard LEGO blue base of 10-inches x 10inches. The minifigs, excluding the ninja which came with the dragon in a LEGO Ninjago set, were all purchased via various sellers on E-bay, buying heads, torso and legs separately to give each the same but different look. The torri was part of a Ninjago game card holder, the tree cobbled together from various sellers, the bell from some parts given to my son by my 18 year-old cousin, Marc Sands, a couple of years ago, the 'garden' and its walls are all from a 1,000-piece bag of black LEGO I bought in bulk from E-bay two years ago just for this project (yeah! like I plan ahead!). Other sundry items purchased from the LEGO Store at Sherway Gardens in Toronto. You should check out a story on their great customer service HERE.

Diorama constructed and photographed by Andrew Joseph (still me!)

Gaijin

2012-02-27T00:01:00.001-05:00

What is a gaijin?

According to the dictionary, this Japanese word translates to "outsider", "alien" or "non-Japanese".

I am all three. I am a gaijin.

And yet, to the visitor to Japan, the term gaijin has come to mean something disrespectful... a hurtful term that smacks of racism.

Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror? I mean really looked at yourself - hard - and contemplated all your strong points, all your flaws?

That's what being in Japan did for me.

Via my very own looking glass, I peered at myself and the world of Japan as though I had entered some sort of Wonderland. While wholly similar to the land I called home - Toronto, Canada - Ohtawara-shi, Japan in Tochigi-ken was a mixed up world filled with awe, excitement, confusion and adventure.

I was born in London, England. My parents are from India. I spent my first three years of existence in England, before we moved to Toronto... where I lived in peace, harmony and veiled and sometimes not-so veiled bigotry for 22 years more.

Sure... lots of people have immigrated from one country to another - maybe even you - but with an ancestry some would consider a third-world nation in India, to a first-world country in Canada, I was an immigrant. An outsider. A brown-faced boy who only wanted to be a boy.

Wishing upon a star did not help.

To fit in, I tried to learn as much about my country as possible - and by my country, I mean Canada. I am not a hyphen Canadian. I just wanted to fit in. But being brown-skinned meant also being thick-skinned, as people older than me always saw fault with the way I looked. Different.

I didn't speak with an accent (I lost my Cockney Brit accent weeks after landing in Toronto), I only spoke English, I didn't eat anything foreign - too damn hot!, and knew nothing of my culture. Yeah... thank you for allowing me to fit in. And yet... I never did.

I learned more about hockey (ice hockey) than any of my contemporaries, but never learned how to skate owing to either a fear of failure or a lack of proper direction - my parents couldn't teach me. I learned the rules, the stats, the history - and even now I will go head-to-head against anyone on sheer knowledge of hockey history.

And still... I could be looked upon and seen as different. Too dark. Too foreign.

I was a gaijin in my own country.

When I applied to the JET Programme to teach English in Japan, I was told that the Japanese could sometimes be a tad racist towards foreign people. How would I handle that?

I smiled and said, the same way I handle it here in Canada. Turn the other cheek. Understanding. Education.

As stupid as it sounds, but even 20 years ago many people in Toronto had never had anything but a friend of the same color. As such, naivety of cultures existed. The fact that my culture was the same as their white Canadian culture was a source of much confusion.

He looks darker, but man - he acts and talks and eats and plays just like us. He even knows more about hockey (and baseball) than us.

Arriving in Japan, I had lived at home for all 25 years of my life... spoiled by parents who did everything for me. While I did pay for my own education, they did present me endless opportunities to excel - or perhaps just to find myself. Accordion and piano lessons, soccer, judo... I did them. But, if you think about it... those four things still makes one an outsider in Canada. The piano less so, though. Everything else - that was so foreign.

In Japan, after a period of acclimatization, I would on occasion venture forth from my hobbit burrow and look around town. Ohtawara was a town of about 50,000 people... and no matter where I went, people would stop, stare, point and occasional utter a profane profanity: Gaijin!

I was being called a foreigner... even an outsider, by the Japanese.

I was home.

I never considered being called a gaijin a bad thing - at least not in Japan. I was an outsider. While it is true I did want to try and blend in, I knew, much like in Toronto that I never could completely. Such is life.

Hell... even if I went back to mother India where I have never been and except for being of Indian heritage I really know nothing of the place, I would also be a foreigner. They would spot me a mile a way and know I wasn't from around there.

It doesn't bother me at all. It even makes me feel kind of special. Exotic, even. Japan, India, England, Canada. A man of the world.

I hope I don't sound down or disappointed. I'm not. While I can never truly blend in, I can fit in. And there, I think, I have.

Just like in Canada, the people of Japan have accepted me for who I am. A gaijin, sure... but more importantly to those who know me, I am Andrew.

And, more importantly, I know who I am.

I am Andrew Joseph.

I've stepped on through a looking glass and am living in Wonderland. At least in my version of it, there is no Jabberwocky.

Gaijin? Sure I am.

And, should you be called a gaijin and discover it bothers you, let me offer a little advice. Words have power when you give it power. Or... sticks and stones may break my bones, but words shall never hurt me.

Cheers
Andrew Joseph

Life Inside Japan's Dead Zone

2012-02-26T10:03:00.000-05:00

Here's a story from my old newspaper the Toronto Star, published today, February 25, 2012 about people in the Dead Zone who have refused to leave.

ZONE

Cheers
Andrew Joseph

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

2012-02-26T00:01:00.000-05:00

Every once in a while someone asks why I am in Japan. Sometimes that question is worded nicely and I provide a non-retaliatory answer.

I'm going to take you back to 1989 - my second year of journalism school at Humber College in Toronto. While many in my class are university grads looking for some sort of career that a university degree in philosophy, political science or history simply can not guarantee, others are right out of high school. Despite the differing levels in education and age, we are all fairly driven individuals who want to go into journalism as newspaper reporters, television anchors or news jockeys on the radio. Magazine writing if we have to... and blogging - the Internet as we know it had not yet been invented.

In a future blog, I will explain how I actually got into Humber College, but for now, let me introduce you all to one Stephanie Lovie.

When I first met her in 1988, I walked into a newspaper journalism class, spied my two new friends Scott Bujeya and John Hobel, sat near them and began chatting - stopping slack-jawed as a vision of loveliness glided into the room with angels dropping rose petals over her as the long version of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly played over the school's loudspeakers.

Standing 5'-6", 135lbs of solidness, hair bobbed in a light brown color, sexy, slinky, six freckles on her nose and her face, a smile that could melt butter with two canines that poked out giving her a feline appearance.
Her legs - oh my... she was a figure skater in her youth and had thighs as muscular and as large as my own - and even today in 2012, mine look mighty - and small tight calves. All in all, a sexy little cat woman. Meow.

Intelligent, charming, sometimes bitchy and she liked me.

All in all, a perfect recipe for a virginal Andrew looking to get off the snide.... or just to get off.

One day in 1989 - that aforementioned second year at Humber, I'm driving her home along the 401 Highway and onto Highway 427 - just before the exit to my house. Today, I'm dropping her off at the subway nearby - though I would have dropped her home in downtown Toronto if I didn't have a couple of piano lessons to teach.

Yup... I supplemented my school income by teaching piano to seven kids, and baby-sitting six of them when required. Not that type of baby-sitting I wanted with Stephanie in my car, but a guy's gotta do what he's gotta do.

I'm wearing a shirt she picked out for me at a fancy men's shop... damn thing cost me $150, but when the woman you want to be your girlfriend suggests something like that, you hang the cost. It was a fine looking shirt. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, she and I were still only friends. We'd kissed a few times, gone to dinner a few more, but it never went beyond that. Sucked.

In my white 1986 Mazda 323, she sudden;y pipes in that she is thinking of applying to go to Japan.

What? Where the hell did that come from?

So, I ask her why.

She tells me that she has always wanted to go there since she was a little girl... her parents, when they were alive, had read her a book on the magical land, and she has, since then, thought of the place as a real dream come true.

Hunh.

She told me about something called JET and how they would select her to go and teach English there.

JET? All I could think of was the musical West Side Story. "What's JET?"

The Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme, she told me in a hurried breath... as I drove past the highway exit explaining that I would catch the next exit instead.

Afforded the extra minute of time, I learned that via this program, one could get hired on to teach a school for a year up to three years...

All I heard was JET Programme and her telling me she wanted to go as my thoughts raced to me applying and spending a magical year with Stephanie in Japan.

So... apparently I had two weeks left to apply for this JET thing. I told my parents about it after I finished my music teaching - my mom, ever the helpful soul, said she would look it up for me tomorrow at work.

The next evening, my mother had been over to the Japanese Embassy in Toronto and had picked up the necessary forms for me... I carefully filled them out, got some transcripts over the next week, and mailed everything off.

Stephanie was quite candid in talking to me more about the JET Programme and about her love of Japan over the next several weeks... but, in the same week that Stephanie was hired on full time at the The Brampton Times daily newspaper where we were both interning on Thursday and Friday's... I got a letter informing me I had an interview.

I also was told by the Toronto Star summer internship program that I also had an interview... one day after the other.

Needless to say, a full-time job with a newspaper is what was important to her, as I continued with journalism school, my internship - seeing her there full time was very frustrating for me and actually got me fired from there a couple of weeks later... I was the first intern from our school to ever get fired from his internship, by the way...but it didn't matter.

As they told me they were letting me go, I told them it was okay. I had just been hired on to work at the Toronto Star and also got hired on by the JET Programme. I said both loud enough so Stephanie could hear it as I walked out the door. That smug look she had turned into a scowl as I grinned at her knowing that losing my internship or not being hired on full-time was really no big deal for me.

Stephanie, by the way, was the one who said she was going to apply for the Toronto Star internship, and I thought okay, I'll try too - just to be with her.

So, yes... I got both jobs I only wanted because I thought it would get me closer to Stephanie, but instead, I got both jobs I really didn't want that drove me farther away from her.

My loss of virginity would have to wait.

The Brampton Times, by the way, after being in business for over 100 years folded about three weeks after Stephanie was hired.

Once again... my life took a strange turn thanks to a woman.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh... I did write about her briefly here, a couple of years ago - long before most of you began reading about the rise and decline of a Canadian Gaijin in Japan: HERE.

Somewhere thanking Stephanie for the heads up,
Andrew Joseph
That photo up above? That's the exit I took to gain that extra minute of conversation with Stephanie to learn about the JET Programme.
Maybe someday I'll tell you more about how I got to Japan by telling you how I got into the Humber College Journalism program. It's a damn fine school, by the way.
Today's blog title is by Iron Butterfly, and was originally known as: In The Garden of Eden, but the religious connotation was a little much, so they changed it to the nonsensical title we all know and love. I love this album!Check out The Simpson's version below it, too!

Japan's Electricity Usage

2012-02-25T16:59:00.000-05:00

Here's a link showing Japan's overall power usage for the month of January 2012, notable because since 2005, it has fallen to its lowest rate by a very large margin to just 10.3%.

I HAVE THE POWER

Cheers

Andrew Joseph & Ma

Publish Post

tthew Hall

Piece Of My Heart

2012-02-25T08:01:00.002-05:00

This is the third part of of my long day, Tuesday, December 10, 1991 where I lost my way, found my way and, well... you'll see.

The first part involved me ranting about women - something I understand upset a few people... including myself, as I locked away my brain and exposed myself to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. It was all about me lamenting life with women here in Japan, and how you can still get what you want and not be happy. RAVING MAD. I've tried to re-read it a few times, since I posted it, but I stop before I finish. Don't read it. I think I come across looking like a dick. I wrote it because that was the way I felt at the time. Messed up.

The second part involved me successfully going out on my own about town to get a key made. THE KEY. This one is fun. Read it. I've re-read it, and I think I'm feeling a little less like a gaijin (outsider), and more like a gaijin (foreigner). Yes... I wrote that correctly. The word gaijin actually means outsider, and the work gaikokujin and its slang version gaijin means foreigner.

This is part three.

I'm now home in my apartment here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I've been home for a couple of hours after spending the afternoon getting drunk with an old man who made a duplicate key for my apartment - 307 Zuiko Haitsu.

It's probably the fourth such duplicate made of my one house key - none of which I actually went out to have made... always someone from my Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) office went out and did that for me. but after 16 months of sitting on my ass and having people do things for me, I decided I would do something for me by myself.

I have a great feeling of satisfaction for having got that key made, and the ensuing fun afterwards. At least this time, the key will be given to a Japanese person... a local and good friend, Nakamura Munaio (surname first), who also doubles as my barber/hairstylist. I love my hair. He's a hairstylist.

The other three duplicate keys were all given to my girlfriend at the time, Ashley. A new one was always required after I would request my key back after she would break-up with me because of her own insecurities, and I would always throw it away while standing in front of her in some meaningless but appropriate gesture.One probably sits amongst the railway ties at Nikko train station - another at Utsunomiya station, and a third probably hit a nearby neighbor's balcony stationed opposite my apartment.

I'm sucking on a nice cold glass of Coca-Cola huddled under my kotatsu (a low heated table with a quilt to keep you warm in the poorly insulated Japanese houses and apartment buildings), with my back up against the front of my divan.

I recently gave away my kerosene heater to Mr. Hanazaki, my OBOE boss. I don't want it and would rather freeze to death than die from inhaling kerosene fumes or from having to keep a door open to thin out the kerosene fumes. I hate the wind in the winter.

As I watch a rented video of the Silence of the Lambs--a movie adaption of a great serial killer novel , the doorbell rings.

It's Ashley. She still has a key to this apartment... but I broke up with her despite her having broken up with me months earlier. It's complicated. Or immature. Toe-may-toe, Toe-mah-toe depending on which way the wind blows.

In my head, I had expected her to bring over a box of all of the stuff she had borrowed from me and to give me back my key.

But no.

She does return a solitary book of mine (title long since forgotten - sorry... go have a bag of popcorn and stop calling me names), but has also come to lend me a book of hers that she thinks I might like. She wants it back when I'm done, however.

It's the book entitled '69' by Murakami Ryu (surname first). Hmmm. A peace offering.

I'm not rude. Or at least I don't mean or want to be. I invite her in, once more into the abyss.

As we sit side by side on top of the couch with the television off, we chat about fascinating things I cared enough to not remember. I still wasn't a writer yet.

Uh... you kids should stop reading now.

She does capture my attention when she tells me off a dream she had about a large penis that looked just like the pulsating, throbbing, tentacle-like ones in the Japanese anime. (Not sure what that is? You can look to the right, but it's still not it, as I'm trying to keep things sort of clean).

Ashley says this huge groping penis was pulsating beside her while she stood at a bus stop.

Not sure what type of penis she was describing, I try to solve the mystery by showing her some of the uncut illegal Japanese and American porno video tapes I have acquired. I know none of them will have a huge anime penis moving about like a disembodied tentacle, but she doesn't seem to mind.

She asks questions about porn and about sex. Me, the virgin until she popped my cherry some 16 months ago, provides the answers. She looks stunned. I have no idea why. I've been doing this sort of stuff to her since we met.

So... why ask questions... unless you are trying to make nice-nice?

She continues to watch. She excites me more than the porno does. I know because I'm not watching the porno.

I know she knows that it's been a hard days night (keeping it clean), but just in case, I tell her I've been working like a dog on his bone.

Not sure if I need to unveil my latest work of art to the audience, I decide to wait awhile longer.

Instead, I pull out all the stops and perform a classic ploy of mine that I use here for the first time: I ask Ashley if my hands are cold.

She has to touch them to give an answer. Apparently my hands are not cold, and she allows herself to hold on to for warmth. Hmmm.

I let go, get up and get us more Coke to drink, place our glasses on the kotatsu's table top and then scrunch under the kotatsu I had turned on earlier to get warmer. I take off my pants, which makes me colder, but I figure not for long.

Asking Ashley to join me, I watch as she hesitates just a fraction too long before saying okay. She tells me she knows I am pantless and panting, but allows me to take care of the business at hand myself. She just holds my hand.

I'm an animal now, and lean in and kiss her and lick her fingers, hands, neck and face. She's not holding back, either. Despite her hesitation. Soon enough, she's naked too... and we're going to town in the same manner as that book I mentioned previously, but needing to catch her breath she gets a grip on the situation and ends things spasmodically for me.

All over, she sits there stunned at what has over come her. Grabbing a box of tissue, we use up a half box just to clean up the spilled frothy coke.

Lying there a while, we talk about meaningless stuff I am too bored to remember, as all of the blood has stopped flowing to my brain for some reason. But I notice we never mention last Friday.

We dress, and I ride her home... on our bicycles, back along the dark unlighted streets, through the lonely, cold roads that seem to meander aimlessly through rice field after rice field, an old dry and rustling corn field and more rice fields.

Arriving at her door 30 minutes later in Nishinasuno-machi, we peck at each others lips in a clumsy good night manner as smile at each other in acknowledgement that we are far too tired and embarrassed about that spilled drink earlier... though she does mention how my apartment always seems to be permeated with the smell of sex.

I don't mention that its not always hers, but she knows I have slept with countless other women since our multiple, multiple break-ups. Though like a blood-sucking vampire and his victims, I have kept count.

I slowly wander home with the winter wind blowing like a hurricane in my face - forcing me back into reality... wondering just what the hell I was thinking or not thinking this evening.

I was free. I had escaped my fetters. The old ball and chain. And then I allowed myself to get caught - caught up in the moment again.

It was never my intention to have anything to do with Ashley again. Did she mean to give me a book called '69'? Did I read something more into that title? Did I judge a book by its cover? She hesitated dammit! That meant she wasn't sure if she wanted in or out, and instead took both... though, sexually, that never happened... now going on for several months.

Back home, I toss away the used tissues, pull out the book she wants back and read a few pages, pausing to wish upon a falling star that I was stronger in my resolve.

Welcome to the beginning of the end of this chapter of my life.

Somewhere it's a weak day for
Andrew Joseph
Tomorrow... different day, and different crap.
Today's blog title is by the Janis Joplin led Big Brother And The Holding Company. I had thought about doing the title/song 1969 by the Iggy Stooge (now Iggy Pop) led Stooges, but 20 years later, maybe this is a song that fits Ashley's hidden thoughts better. Man... Janis was such a beautiful and powerful singer.

Tsunami Debris Map

2012-02-25T00:01:00.001-05:00

Presented for your approval are a pair of stories on the debris washed out to sea by the March 11, 2011 tsunami that smashed the northeast coast of Japan after being spawned by a devastating 9.0 Magnitude earthquake.

The first story is from BBC News that was pointed our way by good friend Matthew Hall. This story looks at where the debris is now. It's a very interesting piece and can be found here: DEBRIS

As a follow up, because I haven't written enough, here's an article I found from California Fire News that shows a map where it is thought the tsunami the debris will hit the U.S left coast in 2016.... uh... that's the image at the top, but the full story can be found here: FUTURE DEBRIS

Cheers
Andrew Joseph & Matthew Hall

Japanese TV Is Stupid Funny

2012-02-24T00:37:00.000-05:00

Below is a great video of some stupid Japanese television. It's funny. That's the main thing.

It's strange because no food is involved. Damn near every show in Japan excluding the ever-popular samurai drama, sports or the news revolved around food. I may have to do a report on it one day.

What I don't understand about a lot of Japanese television --and why it is still so popular--is why they like to dress people up in costumes.

Matthew and I were often coerced to dress up in hilarious costumes - it wasn't meant to embarrass us or anything like that - it was just a way for us to fit in. You see, it's not like we brought our own stupid costumes... the Japanese people we visited had boxes of costumes, wigs and props already at their home.

Perhaps it was all some bizarre sex-thing, but despite a lot of available porn, the average Japanese person doesn't really share a lot of that with the gaijin (foreigners). By that I mean, fetishes are probably kept secret.

That means that these costumes were purely for amusement.

Check out this video... it has a tilted floor and four individuals who have to try and navigate across it while 'dusting it' with a rag. Check out what happens to the loser... or better yet, check out what costumes the two women doling out the punishment are wearing! It's damn funny, but I'll be damned if I can figure out just WHY the costumes are being worn.

Could it just be for fun and have no other meaning than that?

Here's the video clip:
JAPANESE TV

Don't worry that it's all in Japanese... I never did, and yet I understood the pure comedy of it all.

Onagaishimasu... that means 'please go ahead'.

And no... Misteru Suparukaru in the image above has nothing to do with the video - but I loved this Simpson's episode, so what the heck!

Cheers
Andrew Joseph

Daijobu-da

2012-02-23T18:15:00.003-05:00

Ah... Matthew my friend has delivered unto us a wonderful montage of video shorts from the demented mind of Shimura Ken (photo above), my favorite Japanese comedian who helped me learn a bit of Japanese and enabled me to do some jokes in Japanese for adults and students alike.

The fact that I had a pony-tail during most of my stay, as did Shimura Ken at the time - though sadly not in this video - allowed me to play the fool, gain acceptance with the locals as someone into the same things they were - comedy!

This was from his Daijobu-da show, that I think was on Wednesday nights at 9PM back in the early 1990s.

Fantastic stuff, and I know you will enjoy this video. Daijobu-da (which is what the funny faces say) is a hick way of saying 'it's okay'... 'da' being the qualifier that made it rube-like.

DAIJOBU-DA

Andrew Joseph & Matthew Hall

Prank Video #1

2012-02-23T17:25:00.000-05:00

My good buddy Matthew Hall has been inundating me with some cool stuff lately - and I'm going to get off my butt and present them ALL to you!

Here's a great video clip from Just For Laughs Gags entitled Funniest Japanese Girls Prank: VIDEO

Enjoy!

Andrew Joseph & Matthew Hall

Teenage Beer Drinking Party

2012-02-23T14:38:00.000-05:00

Here's the basics:
Who: Andrew Joseph
What: Assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme
Where: Ohtawara City, Tochigi Prefecture, Japan
When: December 10, 199
Why: Because we like you.

I'm going to do something stupid today:

I'm at Ohtawara Junior High School this week.

I'm impressed with myself that I can, if I want to, walk up to anyone here in this school or this city, and just talk to them. It may be broken Japanese or broken English, but pretty much anyone can understand just what it is I am saying, even if they are unable to be understood by myself - but I'm trying! Words, gestures, a dictionary if we are desperate.

People are able to communicate! It's bloody amazing what happens when one tries. I'm finally trying!

I only have one class today, as a second class in period 4 is canceled. Again, classes are short, and no one is telling me why. It's okay... sometimes it's best not to know everything even though that goes against every fiber in my being. As such, I get to leave early, though the Japanese teachers are still there until 5PM or 6PM or later depending if they are married and simply don't wish to be home around their nagging wife.

At 1:30PM, I leave school and go find a place to get my house key cut - surprisingly, for a guy with limited Japanese language skills and an innate ability to get lost simply by exiting his apartment, I had no problem in finding a small shop. The large key handing outside the shop was a good clue, I suppose. And communicating my needs to the ancient store owner whose shop doubled as the front living room of his    place - well, it was a key shop. I smiled, bowed, received a bow in return, smiled and said onagai shimasu ('please go ahead' or 'please do this for me') handed him the key and waited three minutes as he searched for the right base key and then two minutes to make the key.

When he held up two fingers, I figured he meant ¥200 (~US/Cdn $2.50) and not ¥2,000 (~US/Cdn $25), but handed him a ¥1,000 yen bill, and then pretended to muck about my wallet - just in case I was wrong about the amount.

When he didn't wait for more money and began rummaging about for change, I knew it really was ¥200 and quickly said: "chotto matte, kudasai (Just a moment, please)" and dug out a couple of one hundred yen coins.

More reckless bowing ensued where we cracked our heads against each other - we stood, looked at each other and burst out laughing while rubbing our noggin's.

Calling loudly to his wife she came racing out with a large bottle of Asahi Super Dry beer and two small glasses, and the two of us (wife went back into the kitchen to dig up some snacks!) then had a jolly time drinking and talking in my broken Japlish and his Japanese.

By the time we were done an hour and three beers and a couple of Japanese apples later, I bowed, put my arm around him and gave him a tipsy hug - which was returned - and left.

I love the hospitality of the simple Japanese business folk doing business in small-town Japan. Yeah, he sale - probably his first of the day, made ¥200 and then spend ¥1,000 (~US/Cdn $12.50)feeding and drinking with me. That's a loss of ¥800 (~US/Cdn $10) - hardly a king's ransom, but maybe it was a lot of money to them.

Despite me being aware of the generosity right away, I've been here long enough to know you don't just give someone extra money to cover the expenses (unless you are out with good friends!). No TIPS (To Insure Prompt Service), either.

While I hope I did not eat them out of house and home, Japanese pride is fierce! No one would ever know if they were hungry. They suffer in silence.

But I don't think these two were suffering or going to suffer - except from a mild hangover headache - the man was maybe 90 years old and was maybe 5-feet tall and 100 pounds.

I don't know his name, and I never saw him again, but he knew me.

I did take his meishi (business card - written in Japanese) to give to Hanazaki-san (one of two fantastic bosses) at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office, my employers.

I want to make sure these people get a deep bow from me and the bosses for being so kind to me...

As an added bonus, the shop keeper will have a funny story to tell about the day he smashed open the head of the local gaijin (foreigner) and then got drunk with him.

I stagger onto my bicycle and ride over to Nakamura's hair salon and give the key to Munaio, as he'll be looking after my apartment - aquarium and plants - while I am away in Singapore over the Christmas break.

Afterwards, I go shopping at Iseya, stop by the Books Time video store and rent a couple of movies before stopping off at a small hanko (specialty shop that manufactures plastic and stone stamps that the Japanese use for official signature purposes)... I want something special... I'll show you what happened here in another blog.

I then go home.

(No... there isn't anything remotely stupid about my actions today. I promised you that, didn't I?

Tomorrow... I admit I am delaying writing it out again... it's not that I am afraid of it... I just don't know how to present it to you considering I originally used a slew of colorful language, and removal of it may make understanding the story a tad less understandable or worse in my opinion, less interesting.)

Somewhere going local,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Teenage Head, Canada's premiere punk band. I love these guys and have seen them rock out a few small clubs back in the days before going to Japan. Enjoy the music!

LEGO: Sumo Battle

2012-02-23T00:01:00.003-05:00

Here's another LEGO diorama fresh from the fertile mind of Andrew Joseph... so fertile you can smell the manure! (Is that a better joke than: "... so fertile you can get pregnant just by looking at it"?)

Anyhow... here is my LEGO sumo ring, complete with clay (made my own play-dough with food coloring), ring from the Ninja-go set, two sumo wrestlers from the LEGO Minifig Series 3 (which also had a samurai warrior). Man... LEGO loves Japanese culture (old school) almost as much as I do!

I also made a Gyoji (a sumo referee), gave him a fan used to point to the match winner and to act as a tray to provide the winner with his match winnings. Dammit all... I even found a wild pattern I liked and made a uniform and hat for him. I know the hat is not standard, and neither is the color, but I wanted him to stand out a bit and add some flavor to the diorama that food coloring could not duplicate.

I am also quite proud of the fact that there are footprints all around the ring from this particular match.

Who's going to win? I'm betting on the fat one! Oops... I shouldn't have said 'bet'.

Other diorama's made by myself can be found below:

LEGO DIORAMA 1
LEGO DIORAMA 2
LEGO DIORAMA 3
LEGO DIORAMA 4
LEGO DIORAMA 5

Anyhow... the Gyoji is shouting: "nokotta nokotta!" (You're still in it! You're still in it!). Enjoy:

LEGO diorama built and photographed by Andrew Joseph - that's me!

Been Down So Long

2012-02-22T18:42:00.000-05:00

Do you know what's better than not having a woman who doesn't want to be your boyfriend or sleep with you?

Me either.

I've had one of those for months now, and the stress I felt while we were together would have broken me a long time ago if I realized I was stressed.

Do you know what sucks? It's having a woman who wants to sleep with you, but only does so on her terms. Why does that suck? Because it's selfish. I've also had one of those for months now.

Do you know what I want?

It's simple.

To feel like I am wanted. That I matter. And yet, here again, I sit with my pen and paper and jot stupid notes like this into my diary that I will never read again. I hope.

I've been down a lot lately. More than up, unfortunately.

It's Tuesday, December 10th and it's 1991 and I'm living (sort of) in a small city called Ohtawara in the prefecture of Tochigi in Japan.

I've been pretending that nothing bothers me, but in truth, everything bothers me. Every single damn thing. About women.

I'm an assistant English teacher here, team-teaching with a Japanese teacher of English at seven junior high schools in the city. I love the people around me. I do. I love seeing the kids and talking to them. I love being a small part of the lives of these kids - even for a fleeting moment - and wonder if one day they will think of me fondly. I really do think like this.

I just want to matter.

Do you know what I want? I want to be able to communicate. In all of my so-called 'relationships' (you can tell I'm not pleased, as I used 'quote marks' and said 'so-called'), I have not had any problem in communicating my feelings or what I want from a friend or a girlfriend. And, to some degree, neither have they - initially.

It's when things progress, or the rules change, so too do people. Some people handle change and roll with whatever life throws at them. Others need to formulate a plan of action or a plan of inaction while never really knowing just what the hell they actually want from life.

How can you make plans to do something if you have no idea what it is you want to do? You can't.

Sometimes, it's just best to let the chips fall where they may. That sucks, though. I wish I had more control - any control... but I don't.

But I still know what I want. I'm still searching for it. You can tell I'm a communicative type of person. Do you know what I want? I want someone who can communicate with me. It didn't have to be all physical as it was with my secret girlfriend, Junko. It didn't have to be so intellectual as it was with my ex-friends-with-benefits Ashley.

I want a combination of both with the added benefit of emotional support. Someone to tell me I'm doing all right or there-there, things will look brighter tomorrow. I know they will... but sometimes it's just nice to hear someone else tell you stuff you already know.

Do you know why relationships fail? It's not because one person loves another more than the other - as Ashley tried to explain to me a few days ago - it's because people are unable to communicate effectively. That's just my own opinion, and right or wrong, at least I have one.

How do you communicate with someone suffering with mental illness or a social anxiety disorder if they always have their guard up? I'm not saying you shouldn't try - by all means try. But it takes two to tango. Two to dance that beautiful dance of love. If one isn't pulling their weight, the tango suffers. And that would be such a shame for such a beautiful dance that everyone wishes they could do and do well, but so few are able to achieve.

I don't know how to dance, but I can dance well enough.

So... why am I so sad?

Because I'm going to do something stupid...

Somewhere I wander in communicado,
Andrew Joseph
Relax... I'm not a suicidal kind of guy. Never enters the equation. But, a lack of suicidal tendencies still does not mean I am level-headed. Never claimed to be anybody except myself. I think, however, that sometimes it sucks to be me. I should write that down.
Today's blog is by The Doors:

Radiation From Fukushima Still Spreading and Still Hot

2012-02-22T12:18:00.002-05:00

Here's an article about how far radiation from Fukushima's Dai-ichi (Big One) nuclear power generating facility has spread after the events of March 11, 2011 caused several near meltdowns at the plant.

It's an Associated Press article written by Brian Skoloff and Malcolm Ritter. In it, we discover that radiation up to 1,000 times higher than the expected norm has been detected as far away as 643 kilometers (400 miles) away from the nuclear reactor.

HERE

Cheers,
Andrew Joseph

Statue Of An Old Man

2012-02-22T00:01:00.002-05:00

I wanted to share with you a cool photo, mostly because I am behind the eight-ball at work and am doing homework now. Pay writing takes precedent over play writing, unfortunately.

Two photos... the one above, which shows a small old man statue that was about 12-inches (30 centimeters) high. I believe it was taken in Kamakura, japan... about 31 kilometers west of Tokyo. I'm unsure. It was a rainy day - because when the ame otoko (rain man) (that's me!) travels, it always rains. I was with my good friend Matthew who should have known better. We were close enough to see the mythical Mt. Fuji... but the crappy weather made sure I never saw it.Snow, rain, cloud, volcanic ash, Godzilla attack... Mt. Fuji remained as elusive as a blue sky in Japan.

The photo below - is the same photo. It's the untouched version of the one above. It is black and white photograph processed as though it was color film. I wish I could take credit for the sheer awesomeness of this ancient looking photo - but no... it was because of the two sexy redheaded Japanese girls at the film department of Iseya who were to busy chatting me up to properly check off the right boxes on my film.

Hmmmm... sounds like a date, ladies.

Anyhow... which version looks better to you? Call me daft, but I like the original version, as the screwed up processing makes it look as though there was a mist caused by the rain all around - which there was - and makes it look, I don't know.. mystical. Mysticism.... I love the isms, and their off-shoots.

Photographed by Andrew Joseph using the lost art form of camera film photography and his 50mm Minolta XG-se camera bought in the early 1980s.

Hotel California

2012-02-21T00:01:00.002-05:00

Proof that Japan has become to feel like home to me can be found in the way I went about my day.

It's Monday, December 9, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. Today feels like a day of awakening for me.

I feel like I am home because I am not in Canada, and have accepted my place as a gaijin (foreigner) here in Japan. I feel like a complete foreigner... but only Japan has the balls to accept me as one.

Despite being on my own - IE, no girlfriend, or secret girlfriend (she seems to have taken a sabbatical from me - despite us having so much in common sexually... or at least liking each other a helluva lot), or any other prospects on the horizon - I had a good weekend.

I do have a damn fine headache from a lack of sleep, however. I have no idea why I am not sleeping, but I am sure that despite being a rock and pretending all is well, I know that I am pretending. I want what I want, and I know what I want. This time, anyways. I'm just unsure how to get what I want. Sounds confusing, I know. Trying having that mantra rip through your head constantly.

After a hellish 15-minute bike ride through the cold and breezy sleeping rice fields to Ohtawara Junior High School (the largest of the seven schools I teach at), I have two classes in the morning. Fortunately, they are shorter than usual, and school is actually over at 1:30PM.

I then walked over to the post office next door to the school and found out you can't mail booze back to Toronto - sorry, John! Who knew? Apparently everyone but John and myself.

I then go shopping over to Iseya for a new toilet seat cover (by the way... my toilet seat was heated!), and then over to Books Time to rent more videos. I think I have watched well over 100 movies from that place in the past 16 months. Sad, but true.

I am really tired but I still manage to watch a great horror movie: Chinese Ghost Story, as well as a few episodes of Miami Vice sent from back home. I love that TV show... I guess I'm nostalgic for the good old days of something I was never a part of... the drug wars in Florida.

At the night school I teach at, I ask my hair dresser Nakamura Munaio (surname first) to take care of my apartment for me when I head out to Singapore on December 22 with James Dalton, from Stoney Creek, Ontario who has a fantastic sense of humor. I think we amuse each other to all ends of the spectrum.

There's no night school class next week as I'm supposed to take part in some JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme seminar in nearby Gunma-ken (Gunma Prefecture). Just stab me with your steely knife now!

I say my farewells to my adult night class, wishing them all a happy new year, as I won't see them until after that - and they all look kind of sad.

I don't feel to bad about not being here at New Year's, as I did spend it here last year (with Matthew) - unlike most JETs who jet off from Japan to all parts not Japan the first chance they get. In the 16 months, this is my second trip outside of Japan's boundaries - after a stellar journey to Thailand where I played the excited meat in a Thai sandwich. Yes... the poor little Toronto boy who was 26 years old and still a virgin because no one in his damn country thought he was handsome enough, went to Thailand and was picked up by two women - at different times, and who when each found out that he was 'dating' both, decided a threesome was in order.

Whatever. I don't expect anything to happen in Singapore, except for some fun adventures.

Back home, I do a little ikebana (Japanese flower arranging). I do actually spend some time making it just so, but I have no idea for whom I am doing it for, except myself. Mmmm, there's a sweet smell of some sort of flower rising up through the air.

Today I received letters from back home - from Doug McIntosh, my mentor who drove me in a cab once when I worked for the Toronto Star newspaper 17 months earlier; from John Hobel, a buddy from my journalism class at Humber College; and Mrs. Kirkland, the sweet old woman (since deceased) whose lawn I used to mow every week and driveway I would shovel of snow.

I chat with Amanda Goodsell for about an hour - all about life, the universe and everything while I eat my popcorn alone in my house.

Alone with my friends, none of whom are here with me in my Hotel Ohtawara. I can check out anytime I like... but I'm sure I will never leave completely.

Somewhere being a gaijin,
Andrew Joseph
Just for Mike, here's The Eagles sing my blog title for me:

Take It Easy

2012-02-20T00:01:00.010-05:00

It's Sunday, December 8, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I get up early enough at 8AM - make myself some eggs and bacon and juice and head out with my 50mm camera to snap more photos around town. Despite it being December and cold, there's little snow in this town. It snowed last year, but I haven't seen more than a few flakes this year. Present company excluded, of course.

Instead of tidying up - because no one is coming over - I head out to Matthew's place a five minute bike-ride away. You might think that with me tidying up my place nearly every night that my place might be neater than Matthew's - but no! That place is spotless, and still manages to put my place to shame. Hell... I vacuum every couple of days, too!

We ride out over town shopping for electronic goods... stuff for my stereo-TV hook-up, so I can give myself some surround sound. I had purchased a nice stereo for myself in Akihabara (Tokyo) last year. Not sure if this totally Japanese stereo will work back in Toronto whenever I decide to leave, but whatever.

Getting what Matthew says I need, we head over to Iseya for film stuff and then over to Kanseki to purchase some foam for me to block off the space under a few doors to keep the cold winter draft out.

Dropping stuff at my place, we then ride out to another electronics store in Nishinasuno-machi for something for Matthew's needs. On the way back, however, we spy a video game arcade and play some coin-ops for a very long time, much to the chagrin of many a student walking into the place... probably shocked to see adults liking video games, as most adults tend to prefer pachinko.

Next we ride over to the KFC (then only known as Kentucky Fried Chicken) in Nishinasuno and get my cholesterol levels up nice and greasy. This stuff is good! Good thing it will never ever affect me (until 10 years later!).

Matthew rode back to my place, helped me hook up the TV-Stereo and then when we were sure it worked - he left.

Almost to the second after he left, the phone rang. It was Catherine from the UK... who while a very nice person still managed to bore me for nearly 40 minutes, as I deflected her attempts to psycho-analyze me and to come over for a rendezvous.

I cleaned up my apartment (again) until I felt it was close enough to Matthew's levels of cleanliness and then watched the video Farewell to the King before I got ready for sleep.

My parents called at 12:30AM to talk - though I honestly don't recall about what - probably just checking to see if I was still alive and not suicidal. I've been down, but never that bad.

I go to bed, but wake up at around 4AM unable to go back to sleep - but I still feel like I had a great day.

Somewhere doing the simple things,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Eagles. I know it was a dull day, but I actually got a chance to look around town without having to worry about a girl for a change. Thanks, Matthew.

Mothers Still Grieve & Search For Their Lost Ones

2012-02-19T00:01:00.005-05:00

Hi there... I wanted to share with you all a story that appeared in the Saturday edition of the Toronto Star newspaper.

Along with me having worked as a journalist with the Star upon graduation from Humber College (I was the first community college student in Canada to gain entrance into its summer internship program) , it is also one of the top newspapers in all of Canada.

Here's a sad story - sad because it involves the survivors of the March 11, 2011 tsunmai not really getting on with their lives as they continue to process of trying to grieve properly.

TORONTO STAR

Cheers
Andrew Joseph

Feelin' Alright

2012-02-18T00:01:00.007-05:00

Sun breaking through the clouds - by Andrew Joseph

It's Saturday, December 7, 1991, and just yesterday evening, I broke up with my girlfriend! Yay me!

No, wait a minute... I think I actually just broke up with my ex-girlfriend.

My ex-girlfriend who was a friend-with-benefits.

Why the hell would I do that? That sounds really stupid when you think about it... breaking up with a woman you aren't dating but get to sleep with on occasion... oh my god... I think I'm going to be sick.

Today is the 50th anniversary of Pear Harbour Day. 'nuff said. I've had enough sneak attacks and torpedoing in the past 16 months of my stay here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

It's time to relax and enjoy doing stuff for me.

To begin, I try to phone a few friends to apologize for my past crappy behavior... but either they aren't home, or no one is answering: back in Toronto, it's Rob Jones and John Kutchera, here in Tochigi it's James Dalton and Amanda Goodsell. I've just been curt with them through no fault of their own. It was just me. Stupid old, immature me.

I also try to call Matthew - not to apologize for anything in particular, but just to talk about me breaking up with Ashley. Ashley is probably pretty confused right now... wondering how the hell one can break up with someone they aren't going out with - but, dammit, I have found a way!

Oh well... to celebrate my new found independence, I go out and get my hair cut over at Nakamura's. I give Mr. Nakamura a Canadian keychain (it had the flag and the word 'CANADA" on it) simply as a gift because I feel like it, but unfortunately, you can't just give someone in Japan a present without it being reciprocated in some fashion.

Dude... just give me a free haircut.

But no. Via Muneo - my actual hair stylist - he says that we will all drive up to Nasu-yama (Mount Nasu, maybe 20 kilometers north of Ohtawara) in January for a photo opportunity. He mentions Matthew will join us, but I am unsure if that means Matthew has already been asked, or if I am the afterthought. Whatever! It's all good! I'm not getting laid anymore so... hey!

Mt. Nasu is the tallest mountain in the middle right.

I go home and grab my camera and walk out the door to start taking some photos around Ohtawara.

Usually I snap vistas from my balcony or the roof of my seventh floor apartment building... but this time... this time I went out at street level.

Simple stuff... everyday stuff... everyday perhaps in Ohtawara, but to me, it all seems fresh, exciting and new! Why have I not done this before? I always had something else to do, but that's a stupid excuse.

Heck, I 'discovered' a temple right next to a nearby 7-11. How the heck did I not see this place before? I guess I only had eyes for Slurpee.

At a small local shop, I purchase a black lacquered floral tea set and some lacquered miso soup bowls. Not that I will ever use it, but merely because they look 'Japanese' and I appreciate the craftsmanship that went into its creation.

Back home, I spend the rest of the day and night re-arranging my apartment - something I haven't done since I first moved into the place.

It's nothing spectacular, but once again, 307 Zuiko Haitsu is MY home.

Hey! Where the hell is Junko?! Oh well... perhaps she already knows I need to be alone. But truthfully, I just want to be alone in Japan with the Japanese. It's why I came here, isn't it?

Somewhere feeling myself,
Andrew Joseph
PS: I will post some photos of Ohtawara-shi tomorrow! I want to show you my hometown!
Today's blog title is by Traffic (and perhaps a better version by Joe Cocker):

Ass-trology And Me

2012-02-17T09:01:00.001-05:00

Why am I so hung up on Ashley? No idea. Even now in 2012, I look back and shudder at my immaturity - and hers, which helped expose mine. Actually, I exposed my immaturity to y'all here in this blog, but I am mature enough now to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

There have been four women in my life that I have cared deeply about. This is 2012 Andrew talking still. 1991 Andrew went out for a car ride.

Two of the women are born under the Sagittarius astrology sign: Ashley and my wife, while the other two are Virgo's - I have hinted at them both here in this blog site, one of whom I actually introduced previously. Soon...

Myself? I'm a Scorpio.

I can hear all you women sucking in air and backing away quickly!

Let's look at what they say about the Scorpio Male:

Scorpios are generally very alluring with magnetic personalities with a velvety voice possessing a wonderful mystery that everyone wants to solve. They have a dazzling mind and burning passion with the desire to win everything they want in their life. They appear calm and friendly on the outside when in fact just underneath the surface lies their true emotions whether they hide their love and devotion towards near ones or take revenge on someone who has hurt them or their close one. Scorpions never forget anything; any kindness done to them is wonderfully rewarded and every betrayal is cruelly punished. Getting in their good books gives one a protective and loyal friend forever. They can read anyone like a tome with their intense gaze and enjoy tearing through the secrets inside.

The Scorpio is a nasty piece of work if you piss him off. That's right. I'm walkin' here! Hell, if you just look at the first two sentences, Scorpio's sound a bit like like Hitler! He was actually an Aries/Taurus. Boooooo.

Now... let's take everything with a grain of salt. When it comes to the Scorpio, this could imply that 1 out of 12 people is either your best friend or your worst nightmare. Obviously, the way a person is brought up, physical or mental health condition, social even intelligence factors can render the above description moot. Whether I believe in astrology or not, I look at that description above and cry havoc!, and see that I seem to be the prototypical Scorpion. This particular description left out that we are very potent in the sack, but that would just be me bragging, and I don't want to do that. That's best left up to others to brag for me.

His characteristics profile is an odd mix of intellect, philosophy, emotions and passion. He loves luxury and tends to indulge in excesses, in case of food, drinks and love. So, you saw that - love! Yes, it's true. Scorpio men are the most passionate about love and romance.

Cool. Thanks various websites I no longer remember visiting. But honestly, all books I have seen about the Scorpio man says stuff like this.

Now... let's take a look at Sagittarius Woman:

The Sagittarius woman is vivacious, funny, self assured, and sophisticated. She probably had an opportunity to travel as a child, and will need to continue to do so throughout her life. She's a woman who needs challenge and intellectual stimulation in all parts of her life.

Sag women are often highly successful at what they set out to do simply because they are so positive they will succeed. Since the sign also rules international communication, they are either known worldwide or deal with matters of global importance. This is not an overly-sensitive sign, and when criticized, they listen carefully to the feedback. She should be careful not to hurt her mate's feelings by being too direct in her comments; Sag often has no idea of how her words effect others. Her man should also be sure to allow her a sense of freedom which is highly important to the Sag woman.

Hmmm... the Sagittarius women I know don't quite fit all of these descriptions, but that part about being able to criticize their mate - bang-friggin'-on. That other part about allowing a sense of freedom sounds dangerous in the wrong hands, but what do I know... I'm just a Scorpio.

Let's look at the Virgo Woman:

The Virgo woman is a highly organized, systematic and intelligent person able to discern the finer things in life through a methodical and often purposive approach. Dogmatic in character, the professional Virgo female is often described as a career woman, able to command respect and admiration from subordinates, peers and superiors alike for her professional competence.
The Virgo woman is driven by success, more often defined by the financial standing she inadvertently gets. She achieves this through sheer wit and intellect as well as her natural inquisitiveness for the truth. She is gifted with critical thinking abilities and the desirable trait of creative and imaginative thinking fueled by a sharp memory.

Wow... sounds hot.

So... what was my point of all of this, besides just being curious of things? It's a prep course for what comes next in this blog. Regardless of my intelligence, charm, wit, ego, (a person's ego can simply be characterized as self-confidence) blah-blah-blah - you'll read something soon in this blog that will make you go 'huh?' - but if you will just remember this blog entry, you might get a better understanding of just what the hell is going on in my mind.

Many is the time in the past - after Ashley first broke up with me, I couldn't stand the fact that she might actually believe there was someone out there better than me. As egotistical as it sounds, the science of astrology says thoughts like that are inherent in my very being. It wasn't my fault.

And, if you are indeed wondering if I believe in this stuff - well, I don't not believe it. Anything is possible if you want it to be. In your own head.

You know I'm just having some fun here. Astrology is not an exact science. Or even a science. Hell... I'm a Dragon (Chinese calendar), Scorpio (Astrology) and I have AB- blood (Japan). I also live in a house whose numbers add up to 8 - Infinity sideways. I have a fascination for the number 47. What does it all mean?

Well, according to a comment left on the previous blog by Mike Rogers, I'm messed up. 1991 Andrew certainly is. I hope 2012 Andrew has his crap together.

People... it gets better. Or worse. Soon. It's kind of like going to a car race and waiting for the wreck to happen, isn't it?

Glad you are all along for the ride. Better buckle up.

Somewhere still shaking my head at 1991,
Andrew Joseph

When Love Comes To Town

2012-02-17T00:01:00.002-05:00

It's December 6, 1991. For some reason, I have placed a larger asterisk on the first page of my diary. All I know is I'm unsure if I want to find out.

I'm at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) - my office where I work once a week as a respite from teaching at one of the seven junior high schools in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I've been here for 16 months. I must be comfortable here, because I've put on weight - unless I'm the type of guy who eats when he is stressed. I'm only stressed or uncomfortable because of my women problems: both Japanese women and foreign women, and my current streak of no women, just those who sleep with me when it is convenient to them.

Man... I am so out of shape. I'm going to get back in shape! Eat well, but not everything. That should be my mantra. Tomorrow I will take a long overdue bicycle ride all over Ohtawara. Jogging at 6AM. A half-hour - maybe 20 minutes to start.

Am I effing crazy, or what? This will never happen.

I go to the OBOE and ask for a new set of business cards (meishi) - I've given away 500 in 16 months, and request my work schedule for the next three months. I get both by the afternoon.

It's a standard office goof day for me. I write some letters, write a story, study a bit of kanji to make people think I am 'getting' this language. I may love Japan, but I do not 'get' the language. I don't even get English.

After work, I head home. Matthew, who teaches at five junior high schools on the outskirts of the city (now actually a part of Ohtawara in 2012), comes over and we watch some Simpsons episodes.

We then ride out to the Nishinasuno Wedding Hall for a party (enkai). It's a get to know the local gaijin (foreigner) party hosted by the a social club. It's cool. People want to talk to me as I drink. And drink I do. But I talk to everyone who wants a piece of me and enjoy myself and the sake (Japanese rice wine).

It's a good thing I ate some French toast before arriving here - because there wasn't any food. I don't see Matthew, so I assume he's found a pretty woman to chat up. Me? I see Ashley, my ex-girlfriend, and supposed friend-with-benefit—though I am at a loss to see what benefit I am getting out of this.

Still... despite being stood up on US Thanksgiving - a day in with I blew ¥40,000 (~$500 Cdn/US) on a turkey dinner with all the fixings... and hating her guts... I still invite her over later tonight to watch Edward Scissorhands. Johnny Depp HAS to help me get laid!

Anyhow, back at my place, the movie is over and the clock strikes 12:00AM - midnight... the witching hour.

Ashley says she's going home. Okay. I'm not stupid. We didn't touch all evening. We haven't kissed in weeks. Or hugged (I might have hugged her, but it wasn't returned).

She's changed her tune.

Being a former newspaper journalist with the Toronto Star, I'm used to being quite direct in getting answers to questions, so I say 'fug it' and ask her.

I want to know 'who' and 'why'. Basically, I want to know what changed her tune.

This is the part I asterisked. Crap. Maybe I should end the friggin' blog here so avoid further embarrassment. And just recall that just yesterday, I was giving relationship advice to a Japanese woman. Is it too late to apologize to her?

* After much evasion, Ashley finally decides to tell me that: "In every relationship there is always someone who loves the other more."

Bull-crap! (I originally wrote something much more expressive than that!) If I believed that, I would never want to get married, and would encourage others against it. Isn't marriage supposed to be a caring, give-and-take relationship?

If it is uneven, it's not a fair relationship, and no matter how much counseling or psycho-therapy, people revert to whom they are, and the relationship will disintegrate.

I tell her that. I don't have the luxury of her nearly 24 years to formulate this... I had seconds.

She is nodding in acquiescence at everything—right or wrong—and the sight of her doing so infuriates me, as it looks like she thinks I'm crazy... so I help her out.

I call her a cruel, cold and calculating bitch.

I continue, stating that while I am exceedingly calculating, I am not cold. I've always believed in that Beatles' axiom: "The love you take is equal to the love you make."

Is that love in its simplest form? I've always been a black or white guy - never grey.

That said and done, she picks up her stuff an leaves - thankfully without a word.

I'm probably a little buzzed, but I'm not drunk. I've become the type of guy who can drink like a fish and function... I'm unsure, of course, if I function properly, though.

Still, I call up Karen Irwin in Yaita. Karen wants me for a boyfriend, But I just want to get laid, not tied down. You know what I mean. It sounds strange coming from a guy who wants love... but Ashley and I were just screwing - why can't we do that until love comes to town?

Karen is still up, so I avoid that hassle of waking her up... but I harangue her about Ashley and then hang-up on her when I don't get the answers I want.

Karen was the root of Ashley stopping sleeping with me.

No.. Ashley was the root herself... Karen was just a bitch interested in messing things up for her own gain.

But....

Ashley and I....

I feel like it's really over this time....

I feel remarkably at ease...

Somewhere *,
Andrew Joseph
This day was the only time Johnny Depp let me down. Or did I let myself down? Crap.
Today's blog title is by U2 and B.B. King:

Horror Flicks

2012-02-16T09:01:00.005-05:00

Because someone already took the time to write this - and write it well, I though I would share with you a blog boasting the Top 10 Japanese horror movies you've probably never seen.

Well... they were correct. I had never seen any of them, but I am intrigued enough to check them out. Too bad there's no Blockbuster anywhere near me anymore... and I don't get my Rogers Video discount since my magazine was sold by its billionaire parent telecommunications company... where could one find movies like this on the Internet?

Here's www.theweeboo.com and their nice little MOVIE BLOG. Check out the whole blog. From what I've seen, it appears to be pretty cool!

Cheers,
Andrew Joseph

No More VCRs From Panasonic

2012-02-16T00:01:00.000-05:00

Did you know that as of 2011 Panasonic stopped manufacturing VCRs? Stop checking out the porno star in the photo above!

Who here realized that VCRs were still being manufactured up until then? Raise your hand? (Busy?) No one (unless you work at Panasonic, I suppose).

Once the VCRs Panasonic manufactured up until the end of December 2011 are sold in Japan - that will be it for the humble VCR, although it still manufactures VCRs at factories in China and Slovakia for sale abroad - depending on market conditions IE: if some countries keep thinking a VCR is modern technology.

Panasonic first began selling VHS-size VCRs in Japan in 1977, as one of the first Japanese manufacturers to introduce the product.

I myself bough my first VCR - a top-loader Panasonic for $527 back in 1978 - out of my own hard-earned cash from shoveling driveways and cutting grass in the neighborhood of Toronto. The first thing I viewed as a 14-year-old was the Marilyn Chambers 1972 classic - Behind The Green Door - a pornographic movie that got me through those formative teenaged years. Hence the photo above!

Did you know that Marilyn was the mom holding the baby on the Ivory Snow box of detergent? Pure as driven snow! And Brooke Shields was a baby in an Ivory Snow commercial, but was NOT the baby being held by Ms. Chambers.Ah, Marilyn - man could she take a ... uh... never mind.

Not my photo, but: this was the last VCR I owned, a Panasonic Model AG133OP. It was a very good machine.

For those of you who may be interested in modern pop culture of the 1980s (which to some is like ancient history!), the first VHS-tape VCR was introduced by the Victor Company of Japan, a subsidiary of Panasonic that later merged with audio-maker Kenwood to form JVC Kenwood Holdings.

According to a JVC Kenwood spokesman told Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife that JVC stopped making VCRs in 2006 and when they were gone - no more were sold. My second VCR - which I got so that I could create my own tape-to-tape copying was a JVC VHS VCR. I always have loved saying that! I achieved excellent copies via my gold patch cords.

I still have a VCR player - two in fact - but, admittedly, neither have seen much use from myself since I bought a Panasonic DVD player in and around 1998. Piece of crap thing died on me after 13 months - and it was a high-end one that cost a lot of friggin' money! Actually... I went looking for the VCRs and could not find them!

Old VCR taps sit on a comic book box beside a plastic milk crate that used to hold record LPs - in my basement! The tapes were recordings of Star Trek: The Next Generation. Yes, except for a love of rock n' roll and hockey and hot-looking women and the ability to get them, I was a complete nerd.

I lament the end of the VCR. I know that my porno collection has never been the same. And I did so love to collect.

By Andrew Joseph

Shiseido's Perfume Honors Completion of Tokyo Sky Tree

2012-02-15T12:01:00.002-05:00

Usually when I contemplate real-life construction projects, something smells (probably the frying of the few brain cells I have left)—but this time, I have a story where things smell pretty nice. I assume.

Shiseido Co. Ltd. will launch its new fragrance: Shiseido Tokyo Sky Tree Parfum on May 22, 2012 to commemorate the completion of the real Tokyo Sky Tree structure.

Limited to a mere 634 units, the fragrance is a homage to the tower's height of 634 meters. The Tokyo Sky Tree is a communications and sightseeing tower and will be, when it opens, the tallest free-standing steel structure in the world. 

The perfume's scent is based "on a floral green aroma, finishing with an elegant and Japanese modern aroma. It is a well-balanced harmonious blend that evokes a nostalgic, calm feeling while providing a refreshing and uplifting feeling that conjures hopes and wishes for the future."

That is according to a Shiseido press release. Does that mean it smells like money, the beach and sex (or better yet, having sex on the beach with money)? - Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife doubts it.

Actually, if you have a good nose, you should be able to detect: Japanese cedar, green tea, ginger, kumquat, Japanese plum, iris, soapwort, rose, Japanese yew, frankincense, and pink pepper.

Available in a 30mL bottle for a scant ¥63,400 (~Cdn/US $800) including tax, the Shiseido Tokyo Sky Tree Parfum has a bottle stopper shaped like the top of the Tokyo Sky Tree, while the body of the bottle is a standard, if not classic, perfume bottle shape, but finished with a traditional Japanese faceting technique in a hemp leaf pattern. Hemp? This bottle be smokin'!

According to Shiseido, "the design expresses an image of people and the surrounding town, which come together centered around the Tokyo Sky Tree, shining towards the future."

It always sounds so much better when you don't know what things mean.

Regardless, each bottle is engraved with a serial number, making this exquisite product a one-of-a-kind, premium, commemorative fragrance - but probably only if you don't open it up and use it.

The outer package has an abstract design showing the steel frame of the Tokyo Sky Tree.

Advance sales are available only for customers with TOBU Department Store membership, though the perfume will be partially available at the Shiseido corner of TOBU Department Store, Tokyo Solamachi Store.

By Andrew Joseph

Killing Me Softly With His Song

2012-02-15T00:01:00.000-05:00

It's Thursday... uhhh.... I think it's December.... yesterday was Aprilsss, so yeah, today is the 5th of gin in 1991 when Columbus discovered Ohio.

Oh god. The alarm goes off. Not too early or too late. It just goes off.

I...

Am...

In...

Pain...

And... I

Wishhh....

I wuzzzz...

Dead...

I have the alcohol craps. Life is as simple as that. I have nothing left in my stomach, which is good that I am sitting as I evacuate, because the other option is barfing. Hmm, but at least if I barfed, my stomach muscles would tighten up. I don't need my ass muscles to tighten up. It's already pretty buff, if I do say so myself... and I am.

I don't wan to eat breakfast in case I load my ass up for more crap. I am just really, really, really.....zzzzzzzz..... I'm up!

I dress without waking up my drinking partner Nicholas Strachan who is stretched out on some futons behind my couch.

I have to go to work today at Nozaki Junior High School, here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I grab a hot can of coffee from a nearby vending machine for ¥100. Holy crap... could I have a hangover? My first ever?

I chug the steaming can of joe and press the searing hot can against my forehead hopefully to permanently scar myself to remember to never drink this much again... on a weeknight... in December... in 1991.

I'm not naive enough to think I will just not drink again in this country.

At work I have a couple of cups of o-cha (green tea) served by the female teachers. They all knew what I was going to do last night, but it was still a pleasant surprise to see four Tylenol sitting atop my desk in the teacher's office.

I take two and after chewing back some rice crackers, I feel pretty good.

But that feeling goes away when I see that they scheduled me to teach in all five classes today.

Really? Did you not get the memo that I was going out drinking last night? Someone did, which is why I have Tylenol. Five classes? I have never taught five classes. Razazafrazzastupidsonofa...

There was some imagination used in a class where students were asked to act out a skit of buying something. Four boys staged a car theft! And then had a fence buy the car from the thieves. The English was passable, but they made the day go by quickly - pity it was in the 5th period when they performed.

After school, I sit around and chat with a few teachers - about women, men, relationships in Canada. I do my best, but they don't know I never dated until I was 22 and never slept with a woman until I was nearly 26. But, I do have good opinions on relationships to offer having watched a whole lot of television growing up... just tell them to do the opposite of everything I have done in a relationship. Hopefully, you know I'm only sort of kidding.

Mrs. Nagashima gives me a pretty sake set... (and here, I'm going to have to confess that I previously attributed this sake set above to Ashley - it was Nagashima-sensei). I was told by others that it was a very expensive set of pottery. (In 2012, I still use it, and take great care to not damage it).

Feeling chipper, I go out and play some baseball with the boy's team and some softball with the girl's team. I help them with their infield work lacing grounder after grounder to the four infield positions. (Did I mention I'm not wearing my eye-patch this week? I have depth perception!)

I'm unsure if this is Japan-wide, but here at this school, second-year students (Grade 8) get to participate in club activities, while third year students (Grade 9) are studying for high school entrance exams, and first -year students (grade 7) they actually take a 6th period - an additional class, for example - one extra English class a week.

I arrive home at 5:30PM - Nick is long gone, but has left a note thanking me for a great evening of man-time.
Good ol' Saint Nick.

Ashley shows up minutes later at my door. I don't kiss her - just proffer up a hug - and we eat some popcorn together. I hate having to share a bag, but I do. We watch a few videos, chat about nothing I can remember later, go to Mosburger for dinner (separate bills) and then ride back with her to her apartment in Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town). When we say good-bye, I glance at my watch: It's 8:45PM.

I go home, watch a video and wonder about how strange my life is sometimes. It's wonderful strange.

I peer outside my balcony and let the cold wind blow through my hair... and spy a firetruck with its siren blaring... moving slowly... ever so slowly... for 10 minutes... is it looking for a fire? It's possible... there aren't any numbers on any of the houses... or street signs....

"Squad 51, we have a fire at ... uhhhh... farg!... uhhhh... some sort of field... and a rice paddy... uhhhh, it's in the northwest part of the city... no... not in the city... where the fields and rice paddies are... yes, I know there are rice paddies in the city - even beside the city hall....wait a moment.... if this helps.... the call came in from a... Suzuki-san... I don't know... I didn't take the call.... what's that Squad 51... you've found the fire? ... it's out? It's at an apple farm and a rice farm?... uh, roger that, Squad 51, but I think you need to keep looking for the fire... I think the.... uhhhh... yes... the one you just found was from last Monday.... is anyone still alive? ... why didn't you stop.... it doesn't matter if the fire is out... you are a member of the Ohtawara-shi volunteer fire department... can you turn around... no... I'm sorry, I know there's no room for you on these roads to turn around a fire truck... Look... just keep driving around... but please... the next time you think you see a fire or one that is recently gone out - stop and take a look around for survivors... if you don't... you know the rules of the volunteer fire department - you each get to take one item from the deceased house... unless it was the house that burned down....

But I digress...

Somewhere still drunk,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Roberta Flack: