Hunkabutta Archives
08.17.03

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I threw my back out last week and I've been hobbling around the house like an octogenarian with a pickle up his ass ever since. For a few days there I couldn't even put my own socks on. I'm starting to get a bit better now, but the whole incapacitation thing got me to thinking.

The funny thing about it, to me at least, is that my back problems coincided with the great North American blackout of 2003. What do the two have in common? They both illustrate how utterly dependant we are on such simple things that we take for granted: One being a constant electricity supply, the other being a young man's obedient body.

It's sadly comic that one of the most widely made comments regarding this blackout was that there weren't any riots or looting. I guess everyone was expecting them. I was anyway. Maybe we're making progress as a society. That's my positive spin on it in these negative times.

But it all makes you think just how close to the edge we really live. How if there was some kind of major, major catastrophe, that society as we know it would unravel at the seams. We go through life thinking that we're so invulnerable, and that the condition of the world is essentially static, but of course neither is true.

I remember one time when I was a kid in Ontario and the power went out in the middle of winter. It was night time, bitterly cold outside, and we were all walking around the house with these enormous comforters (fluffy blankets) draped over us. For some reason there was no heat. I remember trying to make a cup of cocoa from the last of the hot water in the pipes from the kitchen sink. How pathetic is that?

Well, I guess there's not much that we can do about our dependance and the electrical grid. But I think that it's about time for me to do something about my incredibly sedentary lifestyle and try to get back into decent shape. This whole 'slave-to-back-flexibility' thing is really a suckers game.

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08.14.03

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We saw a sweet thing the other night on the way home from the hanabi (fireworks) party. We were on the Yamanote train and there was this young guy who was so drunk that he had fallen off his seat and was sleeping in the aisle, all curled up in the fetal position.

Two young girls dressed in summer kimonos standing nearby, on their way home from their own hanabi party, felt bad for the young guy, so they woke him up and helped him back into his seat. He staggered off the train at the next stop, I'm not sure if he had the presence of mind to thank them or not.

It seems like a lame ass little story on the surface, but it's something that I've never seen before in a big city, and at the time it struck me as very poignant.

Usually, people are afraid of drunks, and this young guy wasn't really in any duress. It would have been easy enough to leave him there until one of the conductors found him and got him off the train (which is what usually happens). The fact that it was two girls who helped him kind of made it that much more sweet. You'd think that a couple of young girls would be more afraid than anyone else.

Anyway, just a little pleasant anecdote to get you through your day.

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08.11.03

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Yesterday we went to a hanabi (fireworks viewing) party at Toshi and Denise's, a couple of old colleagues of mine. They have an apartment in Odaiba, the location of Tokyo Big Site, a convention centre and amusement park area. It seems a bit odd to live there because it's not really a residential area, but it's a great location nonetheless, and you can't beat it for the annual Odaiba hanabi.

All throughout the summer, pretty much every weekend, there are fireworks shows going on somewhere in Tokyo. They usually put on a great show -- dynamic and creative. They seem to take their fireworks seriously here. They're popular events, people often wear traditional summer kimono for the viewing, and you see a lot of young couples going as dates.

As expected, last night's show was mind blowing. Some of the bursts were so huge that they seemed to tower over the entire city, turning the buildings all hot cherry red and jack-o-lantern orange. Somehow they were able to make shapes and figures out of the fireworks. There were stars and swirls, happy faces with different colours for the eyes, mouth, and circle, and even Saturn with its rings.

We were watching from the external hallway of the apartment building, right up above the beach shown in today's pictures. There was a huge crowd on the beach. One interesting thing that Karen pointed out was that there were hundreds of little blue lights scattered throughout the crowd. It took us a minute to realize that they were the LCD screens from digital cameras and mobile phone cameras. I guess you could say that these devices are ubiquitous these days.

So, if you're ever in Tokyo in the summer, try to keep one weekend free for a hanabi party.

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08.08.03

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About twenty years ago when I was a kid going to Catholic school in Mississauga, Ontario, I had an Italian friend by the name a Patty Barbiaro. I remember that Patty once told me a story that at the time I thought was absolutely hilarious.

Patty's grandmother was visiting from Italy. Being an older woman, and not well traveled, I guess that she couldn't speak English very well. One morning while the family was eating breakfast the grandmother came running out of the bathroom spitting and cursing, frantically fanning off her stuck-out tongue. She had just brushed her teeth with hair cream thinking that it was toothpaste. She couldn't read the label.

For ten-year-old Mike that story was the height of humour. What a stupid old lady, I thought to myself with a chuckle. Couldn't she tell the difference between toothpaste and hair cream?

So here I am now, twenty years later and living in Tokyo, Japan. Karen and Jack, my wife and son, are vacationing in Canada, and I find that it's come time to do some laundry. Karen usually does this, but I figured that I could handle it. So, away I went. I sorted the colours from the whites, filled the washer with water, added the liquid soap, and after about twenty minutes the first load was done. 'That was piece of cake', I thought to myself.

While I was hanging the laundry to dry I noticed something strange. My t-shirts still stank of body odour, but now with a hint of flowery smelling chemical. I couldn't figure it out. I had put in a ton of soap. And then it hit me: Was it really soap? I think that I washed two loads of laundry in fabric softener instead of detergent because I couldn't read the label. I felt like such an idiot.

Adult illiteracy is a trying thing, especially being an educated person. Just one of the pitfalls of living abroad I suppose.

Anyway, I hope that Patty's grandmother somehow managed to get a kick out of my misfortune this time.

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In other news, Karen and Jack got back today. Yay! Not much to report about that yet, they both went to bed really early, jet lag and all.

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