Put Your Prom Gloves On and Watch Out For the Guys With Missing Fingers

It is hotter than hell in Tokyo during the summer. I am so happy I got a perm before arriving - that way I look like a drowned poodle instead of a drowned rat. This summer broke the all time records with a heat index of 114 degrees and a real temperature of 104 degrees. There is a reason all those ancient Japanese paintings show the lovely ladies with their rice paper parasols and fans. They probably had handkerchiefs stuffed up their big sleeves too.

When you are a visitor to Tokyo in the summer, it takes only a few days to realize that umbrellas and fans are not just for impressing the tourists. I now have my sun umbrella, my rain umbrella, 2 fans, and 4 beautifully colored Japanese handkerchiefs (which are really sweat rags). Even the men carry fans - one of the most popular is a freebie from SoftBank phones. The serious sun-avoiders wear the old 1960's style prom gloves - to keep from getting a tan on their arms. They cut the fingers off the gloves so that they can ride their bikes without slipping.

Speaking of "missing fingers" ... If you work for the Japanese Mafia and make a mistake, your punishment is to have part of a finger cut off. If you make another mistake, they cut more of your finger off, and so forth. Eventually, if you are really dumb and make a lot of mistakes, you just end up in the bay with cement shoes. So, if you see guys walking around with missing fingers, just remember that they probably received "B's" and "C's in Mafia 101.


PS: So far I have lost 2 umbrellas.

The Japanese Mansion of 57 Buttons

Lunch in the Mansion



View from the Mansion of 57 Buttons:


We are now in an apartment - called a Japanese "Mansion" - about 60 square meters - smaller than my daughter's college apartment. It has traditional sliding doors (Made of opaque plastic rather than rice paper these days) to separate the sleeping area from the living/dining room. We are sleeping traditional Japanese style - on futons on the floor - till we can figure out if there is a bed for a 6 ft tall American that can fit into the room - I'm not optimistic.

I've decided that the reason all those Asians do so well in school is because of the set up in their apartments. There are 57 control "buttons" in our apartment - almost one per square meter. I am about brain dead from trying to turn on the lights. My TV remote control back home is child's play compared to this. They include a control in the kitchen to automatically fill my bath at a certain time of day and to set my preferred bath water temperature... My washer/dryer plays a tune by Bach to tell me when it's finished the cycle... And there is a woman who speaks to us in the bathroom to tell us that the hot water is turned on. Greg is still trying to figure out where she is hiding.

The "Mansion" is in the Shinegawa area of Tokyo - to be close to Haneda Airport for Greg's work. We have a few pilot friends but most other residents in the area are Japanese with little English spoken. There is a park across the street with a Tokyo version of Austin's 360 Bridge - an arched pedestrian walkway over to Tokyo's World Trade Center area.

Unfortunately, our internet service is not working and our phones are local. Japanese holiday and vacation month is in August so no one is available to set up communications for us ..... It is a very strange feeling to be so cut off from everyone - I'm so used to instant email or phone. I have to take a cab some distance to get to an internet cafe or pay phone for now.

The "Mother of All Parties" at "The Good Chicken" Restaurant

In celebration of Greg's new Captain position, his Japanese and American cohorts meet for a party. (It is customary for the Japanese men to go out drinking together after work or to celebrate work milestones.) Along with the male compatriots, we are joined by Sarah, a young American woman that helps to translate and manage the ANK office. We are also joined by our daughters, Adrienne and Reagan, who are visiting us in Tokyo. In their words - and they should know a good party because they are such devoted college students - "That was the BEST party we have EVER been to..." (PS: Sarah took Adrienne and Reagan out to experience "Roppongi," the Tokyo nightlife the night before).

Here is the set up....We take a number of trains to get to who knows where in Tokyo and end up in a maze of little narrow streets. We then proceed to drink hot Sake and beer while we wait inside a tiny restaurant with about 4 tables and no one that speaks English. Keep in mind that I am with "the super-models." Adrienne and Reagan, as you know, are quite tall and blond and stand out wherever we are.... Greg eventually shows up with Seto, from ANK, and we follow them to a door that looks rather non-descript. We go inside and up a steep stairway. It feels like we have stepped into a Shogun movie. The decor is very beautiful ... rough, simple, natural stone and smooth wood. Of course we take our shoes off. We are escorted into a private room with a big rectangular hole in the floor and sliding doors. The table is set down into this hole and we are seated around it on cushions. Then the eating and drinking begins...

We soon find out why the restaurant is called "The Good Chicken." We eat every part of the chicken except the feathers, beak, and the feet for dinner. Two especially interesting chicken parts are the cartilage and the skin. In the US (when you buy a chicken breast with the bone in) it often has the rubbery, pointed cartilage still attached. In Japan, this part of the chicken is considered to be very tasty and good for the skin. It is sliced up into pieces and put on a skewer with bits of chicken in between ... very crunchy. Then there is the chicken skin which is brought out to us in a large, thin sheet. You hit the center of it with your chopsticks and it breaks into pieces that look a lot like tortilla chips ... also very crunchy. I am trying to figure out how all these Japanese people stay so skinny. There is NO low fat food here and lots of fried food. All meat is served with skin and fat ... and they eat the skin and the fat. There is no such thing as a boneless, skinless chicken breast in any restaurant or in any grocery store. The meal goes on forever with lots of courses and lots of alcohol.

About half-way through the meal we notice that the waiters always know when to bring in the next course. There is a big "game-show" sized button in the middle of the table that we can press whenever we need more alcohol but we have not had to press it yet. Then our Japanese hosts point out the fact that there is a hidden camera up in the corner of the room. We all begin to make faces and gestures at the camera and, sure enough, a waiter shows up immediately.

By now, we have imbibed enough Sake to loosen the tongue. This is also part of the typical Japanese celebration...the emotional speeches. Every person gives a speech -including Adrienne, Reagan, and I. At this point, "Bobby" calls. He is working and unable to attend the festivities. Adrienne, Reagan, and I are all asked to speak to "Bobby." Poor "Bobby." There is nothing worse than talking on the phone to a bunch of inebriated people that think they are funny. Then everyone uses their cell phones to take pictures of everyone and we use our digital cameras.

Ishi decides to tell my fortune - to see whether I will have a happy life. I hold my hands out and he puts charcoal on the top of my hands. If the charcoal goes through to the palm of my hand, I will be happy. Somehow the charcoal ends up in the palm of my hand and we all sigh with relief...I will be happy. Then Ishi does chopstick tricks for all of us.

At this point, Greg leaves to try to pay the bill before the Japanese can get to it. He wants to give it as a thank you gift for the support and encouragement they have given him during his transition to Japan. They, on the other hand, are very stressed about this and a cultural argument ensues. From their point of view, it is insulting for Greg to pay. Sarah negotiates a compromise - and when Greg finally accepts cash from them, everyone yells "Roppongi!" intimating that we now have enough cash for another wild night on the town... but really, there is nothing that can top the evening we have just had at "The Good Chicken."

Welcome to ANK and the Ironies of Life

Greg is now a Captain for the Japanese airline, ANK. The ironies of life never cease as we have just observed the anniversaries of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki ..... and the Japanese celebrate their annual August vacation season and fly to Hawaii by the hoardes.

Big 5% Sale at Jusco

August 19: Big 5% Sale at Jusco Department Store.

I am shopping for essentials for our apartment. I can only buy things that have pictures on the label. I never realized how hard it is to be illiterate. I can't tell if I'm buying salad dressing or dish soap.

PS: I can't believe it. The Halloween decorations went on display today.

997 Earthquakes to Go

Just counting the earthquakes that I notice..... out of the 1000 earthquakes a year, I've got 3 down and 997 to go.

Incredibly Strange Japanese Inventions Sent to Me By Blog Reader Bill Chancellor

Match the picture to the invention ....

Standing Aid for Sleeping Commuters; No More Runny Noses; Get Rid of Your Butter Knives Forever; You Won't Get Splashed by Passing Cars; Eye Dropper for Dummies; Noodle Cooler....

Pushers, Sleepers, and Gropers

The Famous Bullet Train

The train is essential for travel in Tokyo. Here are some tips that can make it a more pleasant experience.

Tip A: Don't take the train when it is crowded.

OK, let's get real, the train is always crowded.

Tip B: Beware of Pushers, Sleepers, & Gropers


1. PUSHERS are the people whose are hired to squash more people into the train. The train is properly packed if (a) You cannot read a book because you can't turn the pages (b) You cannot itch your itchy place (c) You can sleep standing up.

2. SLEEPERS are everywhere on the trains. There is even a book about how to assess the seated Sleepers on the train - so that you can be in position to nab their seat when they reach their stop.

Some of the book's general guidelines are:
(1) If the head is down and they are drooling, they are not near their stop.
(2) If the head is back with open mouth, they are not near their stop.
(3) If they are looking straight ahead with eyes closed, they could be getting close.
(4) If they begin to straighten their hair, they are very close.
(5) If they begin text messaging after sleeping, they are very close.
(6) If you can, listen to their conversations - maybe they will mention their stop.

Once you have found a potential "Seat-Leaver" stand very close to the person but position yourself in a place that does not block their exit. At the same time, position yourself to block other "Seat-Grabbers" who want to get to the seat before you. Move quickly as they stand up to further block the seat.

Sometimes SLEEPERS don't wake up till the end of the train line - either because they are sound asleep or because they are drunk. If it is late at night, the only way home is by taxi and that can be very expensive. To accomodate these wandering carousers, the Japanese have come up with pay-by-the-hour "Capsule Hotels." Imagine a giant Tylenol PM capsule. Now imagine crawling inside of it. I have been assured that they are very clean and comfortable. Somehow though, when I think of people sleeping in capsules, I am reminded of very cheesy Sci-Fi movies with the Queen Bee waiting for the lavae to hatch from the hive.

3. Last, but not least, are the GROPERS. The trains can be so packed that it is very easy to "accidentally" grope unmentionable body parts of fellow passengers. This phenomena has gotten so out of hand (no pun intended) that, during rush hour, there are separate train cars available for women only. The men like this as much as the women because, unfortunately, there are unscrupulous people who are in need of a little extra cash. It takes several people to set up this scam. First, the young woman yells "wolf." Then her companions back up her accusations and threaten to turn the so-called Grouper in - unless he pays them for their silence. You get the picture...To combat this, you will see men traveling with their hands up or crossed over their chests - and all this time I thought it was some esoteric Eastern meditation pose....

998 Earthquakes To Go and Wardrobe Malfunctions

Picture in Motion...


There are 1000 earthquakes each year in Japan. We just had two today. Greg and I woke at about 4 am and realized that the pictures and light fixtures in our room were swinging back and forth. It's a little like being at sea - except that your're on the 11th. floor of a hotel instead of a cruise boat. All of the hotel rooms here are equipped with flashlights ... now we know why. Once I figured out how to turn on our flashlight, and we had called to alert Adrienne and Reagan (who were sleeping in the room across the hall), I began to try to convince my family that they should assess their wardrobe choices carefully before going back to sleep - "Greg, those shorts are totally unacceptable," and "Girls, do you really want to run screaming out into the street and be photographed by a BBC reporter in those clothes?" Sort of gives a new meaning to the words "I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit."

Not Exactly Lost In Translation ... How About Enhanced in Translation

Two translation enhancements that I have run across....

By the Americans:
Town of Fukuoka is often misprounounced as Fuk U O K ???

Misprint in Flight Manual:
Take-off preparations "1. Cock in place"

McDonalds Part I: You Deserve a Break Today...................................................... and McDonald's Part II: SuAnne Big Crow & Geronimo

SuAnne Big Crow & Geronimo



Sometimes when you are in a foreign country, you need a break. You need a break because:

1. You have not been able to get in or out of a door for the entire day without two or three tries - Is this a push, pull, tap, hit, bang, kick, or "minor explosive needed" door-opening device ?????

2. You urgently need a ladies room and you open the door to find a ceramic hole in the floor - and you really don't have the time to figure out what you're supposed to do next.

3. You have been playing Japanese Roulette at the restaurants one too many times and ended up with a plate of crispy baby sea-creatures that are looking up at you with their sad little eyes...

4. You went through the Exit at the train station and some big gate thumped you across the kneecaps. You made it through anyway - and nobody caught you - but there was all that adrenalin rush and fear - like what if I can't get back out of here because I've gone in the wrong way without a ticket...I can see the headlines now..."Texas Cowgirl Arrested for Gate Crashing: She Must Be Attached to the US Diplomatic Corps"

5. You need a break because you are not used to "thinking" so much. Do realize how much of our day revolves around auto-pilot????? There is no auto-pilot in a foreign country....

That's when the little jingle goes off in your head...."You deserve a break today at McDONALD'S !!!!!!" OK, I know this is bad - I've been here barely a week and I'm hiding out in my sunglasses behind a book at McDonald's - hoping that I don't see anyone I know - no joke, that would be just my luck - here I am ready to bite into a Big Mac and someone says "Aren't you Greg Smith's wife??? " Of course they'll tell him later - "I saw your wife at McDonald's today." That's as bad as having the Donut man know your name.....

McDonalds Part II: SuAnne Big Crow & Geronimo

(PS - As I told Dwooley, this excerpt actually relates to the birds and shops I have seen in Tokyo - I promise I will warn you if I start copying chapters of War & Peace for your entertainment)


Anyway, I work through my anxiety attack about being discovered at McDonald's and begin to read my book. (That is the other way to get a break in a foreign country...read a book that has nothing to do with that country - or so you think at the time - I am finding that everything is related.) I am reading "On the Rez" by Ian Frazier, who was the author of the National Bestseller "Great Plains." For you "Honkies" out there (or "Gaijin," as the Japanese would say)"Rez" is short for "Reservation."

I am reading the chapter about SuAnne Big Crow, a high school girl from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, who was a basketball phenomenon in the late 1980's. Here is her tear-jerker of a story with excerpts from Frazier's book. I have left the name of the South Dakota city out of the story - I have good a good friend in SD and want to keep her - you hear that Rita?)

"In the fall of 1988, the Pine Ridge Lady Thorpes went to (-----)to play a basketball game. SuAnne was a full member of the team by then. She was a freshman, fourteen years old. Getting ready in the locker room, the Pine Ridge girls could hear the din from some of the fans. They were yelling fake-Indian war cries...As the team waited in the hallway leading from the locker room, the heckling got louder. A typical kind of hollered remark was 'Squaw!' or 'Where's the cheese?' (The joke being that if Indians were lining up, it must be to get commodity cheese); Usually the Thorpes lined up for their entry more or less according to height, which meant that senior Doni De Cory, one of the tallest, went first. Today no one remembers exactly what was said but Doni looked out the door and told her teammates, "I can't handle this." SuAnne quickly offered to go first. She was so eager that Doni became suspicious. 'Don't embarrass us." SuAnne said, 'I won't embarrass you.' Doni gave her the ball.

SuAnne went running onto the court dribbling the basketball, with her teammates running behind. On the court, the noise was deafeningly loud. SuAnne went right down the middle; but instead of running a full lap, she suddenly stopped when she got to center court. Her teammates were taken by surprise, and some bumped into one another. SuAnne turned to Doni and tossed her the ball. Then she stepped into the jump-ball circle at center court. She unbuttoned her warm-up jacket, took it off, draped it over her shoulders, and began to do the Lakota shawl dance. SuAnne knew all the traditional dances, and the dance she chose was a young woman's dance - graceful and modest and show-offy all at the same time. And then she started to sing in Lakota, swaying back and forth in the jump-ball circle, doing the shawl dance, using her warm-up jacket for a shawl. The crowd went completely silent. 'All that stuff the fans were yelling - it was like she reversed it somehow,' a team-mate said. In the sudden quiet, all you could hear was her Lakota song. SuAnne stood up, dropped her jacket, took the ball from Doni, and ran a lap around the court, dribbling expertly and fast. The fans began to cheer and applaud."

"In an ancient sense which her Oglala kin could recognize, SuAnne counted coup on the hecklers...'It was funny,' Doni De Cory said, 'but after that game, the relationship between (----) and us was tremendous....Later, when we went to a tournament and (----) was there, we hung out with the (----) girls and ate pizza with them. We got to know some of their parents, too. What SuAnne did made a big impression and changed the whole situation...."

In later years, SuAnne went on to lead her girls' basketball team to win a state championship. (When interviewed by a reporter, with her usual sense of good humor, SuAnne quipped that the story needed to be titled "Tragedy at Sioux Falls" ... a tongue-in-cheek reference to Tom Brokaw's recent bleak reservation story called "Tragedy at Pine Ridge" that somehow missed any reference to the good things happening on the reservation.) SuAnne was chosen to be part of the National Indian Basketball Team and performed in the USA, Europe, and Australia... She was an excellent student with scholarships to top schools across the US. Unfortunately for all of us, in February of her Senior year, SuAnne died, reservation-style, in a car accident. She and her mother were on their way to Huron, South Dakota, for the Miss Basketball award banquet. The award is the state's most prestigious for girls' basketball, and SuAnne was one of the nominees.

SuAnne's vision was to go to college and return to Pine Ridge to help her people. She had often talked of an ideal place she called Happytown - where kids could go and hang out and have fun and not get in trouble. In the year following her death, her mother, along with support from the tribe and private contributors, established the Big Crow Center which is now affiliated with the Boys' and Girls' Clubs of America - the first chartered on a reservation.

"To count coup means to touch an armed enemy in full possession of his powers. The touch is not a blow, and only serves to indicate how close to the enemy you came. Counting coup was an act of almost abstract courage, of pure playfulness taken to the most daring extreme. There's magic in what SuAnne did, along with the promise that public acts of courage are still alive out there somewhere..."

...Now flash back to the fact that I am reading this to you from McDonald's in Tokyo and I am trying to keep from bawling - because there are NO pigeons here in this part of Tokyo - I am surrounded by BIG BLACK CROWS - SuAnne Big Crow has counted coup here in Tokyo today - I get up, walk back toward my hotel, window shopping along the way - and there is a Geronimo T-shirt in the window.....

Counting Coup:
US = McDonalds & CocaCola
Japan = Toyota & Sony

Icky what????

Imagine a flower pot shaped like an alien space ship - then have the aliens hanging out the windows of the space ship waving at all the folks in Roswell - and you have a very unique flower arrangement - or what the Japanese call the art of Ikebana.

Yesterday I took a one hour train/subway ride to the Institute for Ikebana. Getting there was sort of like tryiing to find Area 55 (or whatever that top secret testing ground out in Nevada is called).

This is how Ikebana classes work. First you take a number, then you inspect the rows of flowers, sticks, and branches that are available for the day's class. Whoever gets # 1 gets first pick - if you get a high number, you have to be really creative because you're going to end up with some weird combinations. There are mainly housewives in the class and this is what they do instead of drink coffee and play bridge - so they all know each other. Just add the margaritas and it would be the St. Michael's mom volunteers...

Back to Ikebana: It starts out with a demonstration by THE MASTER (who is a woman). Each class has a theme - I never could figure out what it was. THE MASTER puts a big, black, pyramid shaped vase on the demonstration table and, with a theatric flourish, inserts ONE huge flower into it. Then she chooses someone from the audience to come up in front of the class and choose a second plant stem to add to hers....This is really high drama folks .....The person in the hot-spot chooses from a huge array of options, then carefully snips and bends their choice and places it into the vase with THE MASTER's stem. THEN they are given a microphone and have to explain the emotions and feelings that they wanted to portray in the Ikebana....it is better than Doctor Phil...Thank goodness they did not call on me. I just felt like throwing up - I think I had heat stroke from the train/subway ride in the 99 per cent humidity.

Now if that was not enough, the next thing on the agenda was that we got to arrange our own flowers. I had a teacher to help me because I had never done Ikebana before. I did pretty good - especially since she did most of it for me...The next part of the class was fun. We all wandered around and looked at everyone else's arrangements. All I can say is WOW. I have never seen so many beautiful flower arrangements. They were breathtaking.

Just when I thought it was safe to get back in the water - THE MASTER shark comes back. The grand finale of the afternoon is just getting started. THE MASTER will now inspect each arrangement and offer her personal critique of the work. One very nervous girl that I met was being tested that day on her Ikebana. (In Ikebana, there are levels - like in Karate). She said she was hopeful she would pass because THE MASTER seemed to be in a good mood. Anyway, the students follow THE MASTER around and congregate around the arrangement to be critiqued. THE MASTER pulls off a leaf, moves a branch here and there, and everyone "oooo's and aaaa's." What is amazing is that THE MASTER is right - it really makes a difference. When THE MASTER came to mine she took pity on me, snipped a few leaves, moved a branch, and said something nice - she probably knew her assistant did all of the work for me - and she didn't want to loose a good assistant. I got my First Belt in Ikebana - a little sheet with a red stamp on it - I can now defend myself against muggers with a sunflower stem.