Asahi Buying Calpis for $1.5 Billion

I know why they did it, I just don't understand why they did it that way. Surely there are better ways to blow one's money.

Asahi, a Japanese brewer responsible for many a great binge drinking night for myself back in the1990s, has confirmed it will purchase softdrink manufacturer Aijinomoto Co.'s Calpis brand for Cdn/US $1.5 billion (~¥120 billion) which will make it the #3non-alcoholic beverage maker in the Japan.

With your author no longer residing in Japan, and combined with a crippled Japanese economy, the brewer was searching for ways to supplement its revenue.

Enter the Calpis.

Calpis is a milky-drink that is supposedly popular with young kids. Calpis (カルピス Karupisu) is a uncarbonated beverage with a milky, acidic flavor that makes it taste like (my opinion) spoiled plan yogurt. Its ingredients are: water, non-fat dry milk (I think that means powdered) (yes, it does!) and lactic acid, and is supposedly produced by lactic acid fermentation - which is the way one might make yogurt, if you wanted to make yogurt.  

The Calpis brand is also available in a pre-diluted drink called Calpis Water (you can't dilute enough for my liking), as well as a carbonated version called Calpis Soda (this was also just wrong). 

I've had all three Calpis brands, and I'm a big kid and like sweet stuff, but there's a reason why I call Calpis: cow-piss. It's awful, in my opinion. Of course, that's just me, and despite me not liking Calpis, the beverage manufacturer still managed to grow the company.

Of course, if you've been following the news - I haven't - but this new $1.5 billion deal comes on the heels of a total of $3.7 billion in deals for Asahi over the past five years.

If the brewer was hurting, you sure wouldn't know about it from the way it's tossing around the cash. Personally, with a crappy economy, you figure more people would try to drown their sorrows in an alcoholic haze. I'm not saying it's the right thing to do, of course, but hey! who doesn't want Asahi to become an even bigger entity?

In case you forgot, Ashai also recently purchased beverage-maker Schweppes' Australian biz, Independent Liquor (a New Zealand company), and China's Tsintao Brewery (a damn fine beer, actually!).

The New Zealand deal was for $1.2 billion - the highest amount Asahi has yet bantered about - not bad considering I had never even heard of Independent Liquor before that last paragraph. 

Says Asahi president Izumiya Naoki (surname first): "Calpis is a top dairy product with a bright image as a safe and healthy product and strong brand recognition. We do not have dairy products, so it will be a good compliment to our product portfolio.

"If you have a brand that is number one, or a strong number two, in its category, the strength of that portfolio will allow for growth, even in a tough market."

The deal for the Calpis brand should be completed by October once Asahi raises some borrowing money and stops paying for turd art (see photo below).

My photo of the Ashai Flame beside the foam-topped Asahi HQ in Tokyo.

With the purchase of Calpis, Asahi will move ahead of rival brewer Kirin Group Holdings and tea maker Ito En in Japan's soft drinks market - but it is still behind Coca-Cola Enterprises and Suntory Holdings.

As for Ajinomoto, what to do with $1.5 billion? Perhaps a trip to Hawaii, and maybe buy a new Ferrari? Oh... and get laid. Divorce the wife and then get laid again. At least that is what I would do. But apparently Ajinomoto is looking to use the money to create mergers and acquisitions with seasonings, food and biotech firms. Borrrr-rinnng!

Anyhow... I've slagged the hell out of Cow-piss, I mean Calpiss, I mean Calpis (sorry, I have no idea where the backspace button is!), but it must have a loyal following, and it must be something decent for Asahi to have over-paid for, but it must figure on making its money back in the long-term.  

Files compiled by Andrew Joseph

Cherry Blossoms in Nishinasuno

Because the cherry blossoms are starting to appear in Tokyo, I thought I would sort of honor that event with the photo up above. 

It was taken in Nishinasuno-machi (Nichinasuno Town) back in 1992, 20 years ago.

It has my classic photographic elements - a real image across the middle, a reflection below, and an over-hanging branch in the foreground up above. What is odd, is that the sky is blue rather than filled with ominous, dark grey rain clouds.

After all of that, you may also have noticed that the photo is not quite in focus... that it's not as sharp as it should be. No... it's not your computer monitor. It's the photo (sigh).

For those who know (and those of you who don't), during this epic time if the year, one's office often sends a couple of representatives out to a park to stake out prime real estate under a cherry tree in bloom. They could be sitting out there all day until the mid- to late-afternoon when the rest of the office shows up to begin the hanami enkai (flower viewing party - though for the Japanese, it's usually cherry blossoms that are viewed). 

I'm unsure how much actual cherry blossom viewing goes on after the first few minutes upon arrival, because very quickly alcoholic beverages and a modicum of snacks and food are brought out.

After way too much drinking of wobbly pops (beer) and o-sake (Japanese rice wine), people get drunk. Bums get pinched. Promises get made. Friendships are cemented. And someone probably pees themselves in laughter after the gaijin (foreigner)  - let's say me - makes everyone laugh with some stupid Japanese line he picked up from watching Shimura Ken on television.

Like I said...  people are drinking... and drinking, and for a change of pace, there is more drinking.

Pretty soon, everybody's vision gets blurry.

And that is what this photo represents. Really.

Or... as is more than likely, I may indeed suffer from astigmatism, which means I have trouble completely focusing my eyes from time to time, and what I thought was a great photo, is really just a blur... much like the drinking party. Ahem.

Like I said... this photo was taken by myself in Nishinasuno... I live and work in the big city next door of Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken. My OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office party would not be held in Nishinasuno. It would be held, more than likely on the grounds of the ruins of Ohtawara-jo (Ohtawara Castle)... if there were any actual ruins. It's just a big park. I've been sitting on a blog about this place for a month now...

Anyhow... after my office party in Ohtawara - you should NEVER bring anything that takes a photograph to any sort of party where there may be drinking, by the way - the next day I rode my bicycle out to Nishinasuno and found this wonderful vista by getting lost - something I could do with remarkable ease in Japan. That's when I took the photo above. I need to get my eyes looked at.

Cheers (kanpai)
Andrew Joseph

Japanese Speed Drinker

Whenever you are ready to stop staring at the gorgeous ta-ta's of the poor hot, sweaty and obviously thirsty woman to the left, I urge to to... are you done oggling her yet?  I know, I know... I can't blame you. I would leave your wife for a shot at her.

Anyhow... when you... christ... I'll wait... okay? okay.

Feel free to check out the video below showing off a young Japanese man drinking a 1L bottle of water in 4.88 seconds.

H2OMYGODO or just click on the video below and watch it!

It looks pretty impressive. The speed is cool, but what I found particularly amazing was the fact that after sucking back the water, at no time did he appear to belch!

THE dress that nearly blew a government.

I've never timed myself, but I've been know to suck a whole bottle of beer in a glass down in seconds. I don't open my throat up like the professionals speed drinkers or women I know, and unfortunately have to gulp it down... but you can all probably tell that with my large amount of writing, I can hold a lot in my mouth...  certainly more than Monica Lewinski who could not completely even swallow a liter (did I spell 'leader' correctly?)  

If any one is buying, I'm dying... to meet you that is and take up arms in a battle of witless drinking. With the way 2012 has been going, I feel I have more than earned that right.

Anyhow... isn't Japanese TV cool? This program It's like America's Got Talent (or it's poor cousin, Canada's Got Talent), except that there are a lot of Japanese people with talent - except for the television talents who 'host thee types of programs.

Somewhere thirsty, my friends,
Andrew Joseph     

Lay Down

Today is supposed to be my first official day at the AET (assistant English teacher) JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Conference in Gunma-ken, where, to be honest I have no idea what city I am actually in.

Really.

You can already see my level of commitment to this event.

It's December 17, 1991 and I've been here in Japan since late July 1990 and I'm feeling a whole lotta burned out, as evidenced by the fact I used the word 'lotta' without a Led Zeppelin reference - oh, there it is.

After last night's debacle of being called a 'player' by other guys who were proud to call themselves a player,  I wasn't in a great mood. Other people I mentioned this too seem to believe there is nothing wrong with being called a player - especially since I have slept with a lot of women.

Yeah... I have. But I didn't promise anyone anything except for a good time then and now. I never pretended to be anyone other than myself and was always open about it. There's nothing wrong with that, and no woman has ever complained about it  - so why the hell does the opinion of three drunk guys bother the fug out of me?!  

Yeah, I'm probably still drunk and and very tired now at 7AM, but I'm only 27. No big whoop. I've woken up drunk many a time since arriving in Japan. Since I am able to function in a normal manner, and I don't make a habit out of getting drunk, I don't believe I have a problem. Again... I'm 27 years of age and away from home for the first time in my life and only since arriving here did I lose my virginity some 14 or 15 women ago.

I've let my hair down and am sowing my wild oats. My hair looks good - it's down just past my shoulders, but I wear it in a ponytail with a stretchy band that matches whatever solid colored shirt I wear. Yes... I do think about these things. (2012 Andrew here: I believe I was a meterosexual before the term was coined.)  

After the probable breakfast of watery scrambled eggs, extra crispy and salty bacon, dried baked beans, a glass of orange juice (which recalled the vodka that went with it last night and caused my stomach to grumble in anxious retaliation),  I went to sign-in for attendance to a conference session.

Tragedy struck as I discover, much to my tightening sphincter, that I was not actually on the Conference List of attendees, and that I actually did not have a room to my name.

I suppose I could have paid for yet another hotel room as I did last night when I arrived early.  I mean, I know I'll get whatever money I spend legitimately back from the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office for whom I work, but that won't be for a month. But I'm going on vacation very soon, and I need to not spend too much money between now and then.

Anyhow.... the conference people - as they tried to figure out who's fault it was, stuck me in a hotel room with some Saitama-ken guys who were actually nice enough considering there was a strange drunk gorilla-like fellow in their midst.

They know I snore right? Loudly, right? Which is further amplified in proportion to the amount of alcohol I can breathe in, right?

Poor, poor, Saitama-ken AETs. I would feel sorry for them, but at the time, it never even entered my thoughts because I don't actually know that I snore except from a having a room of Tochigi-ken AETs threaten to kill whomever was snoring like a jet plane with asthma at an overnight stay at on a mountaintop onsen getaway last year - and from Matthew who says I get sort of loud - like being at a Who concert. I like Dr. Seuss.

Ashley, my ex-girlfriend with whom I recently broke up with as my friend-with-benefits, has never complained... and she and I usually sleep on top of each other.

Whatever.

I get into the conference meetings and instantly wish I didn't. Booooooorrrrrrringgggg.

To break up the monotony, I decide to ask a lot of questions of the speaker, which has the crowd mumbling in agreement or anger at me delaying the end of the event. To quote Bugs Bunny, "Ain't I a stinker?"

I hang out with my buddy Matthew for a while until he decides to go for a nap, or ditch me to go and scope out some Japanese women to practice his skills on.

Me? I find our mutual buddy Jeff and get stinking drunk with him...then go out to a movie theater and watch Home Alone (or were we in a hotel room watching it on TV?)... and then push our way into the Head Teaching official party and sing and drink with all of these Japanese teachers. Lo and behold - there's Matthew.

Now, maybe the alcohol is making me melancholy, or it was the movie Home Alone or maybe it was even this morning's bacon that was as salty as the ocean's tears, but I was feeling a bit down (I had written the word 'depressed' originally, but that is not accurate).

I'm down about Ashley and talk my head off to some poor middle-aged female bureaucrat with a prefectural board of education, whose name I never learned and who made the mistake of asking me "How do you like Japan?"

So I tell her. I'm not just the type of person to tell you I'm fine if I'm not. I used to lie. Lie all the time... but when I turned my life around at 18 and stopped being a small kid who was picked on all the time, I grew up physically and mentally. The emotional part I am still working on in 2012.

I know the poor woman wants to escape, but I can see it so I don't let it happen until I tell her my whole story... and when I finish... I have a small crowd of Japanese gathered around me, and perhaps because they are bored, they ask me a lot of questions.

In return, I get a lot of sympathy and drinks poured for me. I'm sure that poor woman wonders how her question about Japan garnered my response about some poor woman named Ashley - but that kind of sums up this whole damn blog. Of course... I was getting a good buzz on by this time... or maybe I just enjoyed playing with people since I am considered a player now.   

At the end of the evening, rather than go to the room belonging to the Saitama-ken guys (where my luggage is!), Jeff invites me to crash in his room. The only problem is that he is sharing a room with Susan Dixon, another AET from Tochigi.

No one is sure why reservations were lost or why men and women were sharing a room with people they didn't want to, though I do suspect that when Sue was asked by the hotel staff if she liked Jeff Seaman, her answer of "Who doesn't?!" probably meant she only partially understood the question.

Anyhow... Jeff's room was also lost, so they stuck him in with her, because she likes Seaman - that's just a guess, of course... I have no idea if she does - so when Jeff invited me to crash for the night, Susan was pissed off royally at Jeff and now she hates me and my Seaman. Probably one of the few times I can say that and actually mean it.

Still... Jeff won out despite Susan's protests, more than likely because we were too drunk to care what she said.

I slept in the bathtub with a pillow and a couple of towels draped over my arms to keep the chill away that was being emitted by Susan as she grumbled about someone snoring like the gates of Hell had burst forth from their fiery hinges. Hunh... I always though fire could melt ice, but she proved me wrong.

B-b-b-b-b-b-b-itch. That's all folks.

Somewhere not impressed with Gunma-ken,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Canadian metal group (sounds more like Rock, though) Priestess. I love the music, and the title seems to fit.:

Stuck In The Middle With You

Today is Monday, December 16, 1991. I spent a half-day at the Ohtawara Board of Education Office (OBOE) in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan before I left and met up with my buddy Matthew.

The two of us are assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.

We rode to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station) and took a JR (Japan Rail) local train down to the capital city of Utsunomiya so he could get his Sony Walkman fixed.

We then took took a slow train to Omiya and caught a connecting slow train to the conference place in Gunma. Just another lazy day... arriving there at 7PM.

The hotel was pretty nice as we drop our stuff off in Matthew's room and then as we are walking around to get some food we are immediately set upon by Mr. Arakawa, the head of the JET Programme in Japan (I think).

He asks me why I quit as editor of the Tatami Times - and I tell him how I felt cut-off from the other AETs. He said it was too bad because he said the newsletter had never looked better or been more fun.

His partner in crime Mr. Kamioka also stopped me to ask the same question, but was really more interested in seeing if I wanted some sake (Japanese rice wine), that he knows I can drink like water. For some reason, I figured I should eat first.

First rule of power drinking - make sure you have eaten so that there is something to throw up. I kid. It's true, but I have only puked three times while here - and I think it mostly had to do with a drink called a Flaming Blue Lamborghini that the local bartenders in Ohtawara make to try and see if I will go blind, or die.  I have lousy vision.

After paling around with Matthew at dinner, I spent the first night getting pissed drunk with the crowd of AETs from Ibaraki-ken. I hate cliques now  - like the Tochigi one - mostly because I'm not part of it. Not cool enough, or perhaps they are just too stiff - most of them - for my liking. I have no idea where Matthew went, though.

Within the Ibaraki group, I meet Laura who is the editor of their newsletter. She's very cute and I'm sure I could have made a successful pass at her, but even Mohammad need not climb every mountain he saw. But, I decide not to be the slut I have become and give us both a break from my stand-up comedy act.

Near the end of the evening, I have a drink or seven with Tyson and Ian and are joined by David Turner who starts whining about how he hates Japan... but we somehow turn the conversation to our favorite topic - women. These guys are first years, and I'm in my second-year year here in Japan. We talk about women.

The guys suddenly do a toast - like they were planning it before I arrived: "Here's to Tochigi-kens four big players!"

everyone laughs, except me as I crack a polite wry smile. I wonder just what it is they heard about me to say something like that.

It bothers me... I mean, yeah I like women and I have slept with more than my fair share, but I never 'played' a woman to get sex. I was just around, and was picked up by the women. I've been pretty honest with the women I've slept with. I don't think I've ever promised them anything other than a good time... so, me as a player? No.

One of the guys actually brags about how much money he has 'borrowed' from women. He actually did the finger quotes, implying he wasn't actually borrowing, but taking with no intention of paying them back.

I can't stand this, and after the toast I make like I'm toast and head for bed. It's 2AM.

Somewhere I feel like I've been played,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Stealers Wheel, which if you listen to the lyrics seems to fit in perfectly with how I feel some of the JET AETs are.

   

When The Music's Over

It's Sunday, December 15, 1991 and I'm a junior high school English teacher in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan hired via the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.

I've spent a strange weekend so far with my ex-girlfriend and ex-friend-with-benefits, Ashley, also an AET, but one who teaches at the Ohtawara Boys High School (and Girls school, too!), and who lives in the nearby town of Nishinasuno.

I get up at 9AM and wander around getting her sunglasses fixed - I have no idea why I did that, except perhaps to prove that no matter what I am still a nice guy. I am. Really.

Matthew comes over at around 1PM and the two of us search Ohtawara for Christmas cards - and actually find some in a small shop that sells foreign artsy-fartsy stuff situated about five minutes between our two apartments.

After moving to his place to watch television and eat some pizza, Matthew and I ride out to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno station) and ride down to Yaita-shi (Yaita City) for an AET Christmas party hosted by Usha Persaud.

I had called Ashley earlier at around 1PM to ask if she wanted to travel with us, but I woke her up to make her suffer upright from a nasty hangover from the large amount of sake she and I had imbibed last night. Ha.

Lucky me can get drunk but has never, ever had a hang-over. People say it's because I haven't drunk enough, but truthfully, I never met a bottle of booze I couldn't suck back. I just don't get hangovers. Maybe it's my genes. My uncle Harold Joseph used to be able to hold his alcohol, too and also never got a hangover. And he was famous in India as the conductor of the New Delhi Symphony Orchestra. Harold wrote the closing ceremony music for the 1982 Asian Games, and was the Director of India's Military Music. I suppose he was the reason I had to learn the accordion and piano, and can play all brass, woodwinds and keyboards - I even taught the clarinet and piano and brought a set of keyboards and my clarinet with me to Japan. Harold died in the mid-80s of Myasthenia gravis, which if you watch the TV show House in 2012, is always an incorrect guess by the team of doctors for the impossible illness of the week. His drinnking ability may also have contributed to his death

Ahhh, but I digress.

Will Gardner was there to meet Matthew and I at the Yaita train station. He was with Karen, thebubbly redhead who would like a chocolate boyfriend (moi), but doesn't want to share me with Ashley, with whom I still "date". Me? I'd rather just sleep with her like I do with Ashley and keep my options open. I've always been honest about that fact, too.

Anyhow... Will Gardner and I have been pissed off at each other (and in 2012, I no longer recall why), but all of that is forgotten Matthew knowing of the tension keeps things light as is his wont, and everyone starts chatting amicably.

At Usha's place, all of the local AETs from the northern part of Tochigi-ken were there - though there were two Japanese people joining us... one of Usha's Japanese teachers of English and a high school student who was extremely hot and kept staring at me.

For dinner we had turkey, pate... cranberries, stuffing - the whole works... everything that I had purchased for Ashley a few weeks ago for US Thanksgiving (I'm Canadian, eh), but she 'forgot' about our date and instead went out whoring or hanging out with guy friends in Utsunomiya. Riiiight.

Hey... I may be an idiot as far as women goes, but I'm not stupid and usually think the worse, and thankfully have yet to be disappointed. Thankfully?

All evening, Karen is trying to be slutty and dominating to me - to perhaps impossibly convince me I am an idiot for not wanting her as a girlfriend. Riiiight.

So I dragged her off to a quiet room and told her off, which completely caught her off guard because I think she thought I was going to make a bold move on her. She's still trying to get me, but I'm not having any of it.

Dinner was great. Jokes galore and heady conversation. I'm unsure when I became able to dominate a crowd with my sense of humor, but it happens without me actually trying, and I notice it's happening as its happening, and i swear I always try to squelch it. But try being known as the guy with the ever-present smile who can quickly add a witty comment to any conversation - I'm simply just not allowed to wallow in self-pity by the others who like being entertained.

Let me just state, that a part of me likes being the entertainer, but I like it best when its my idea and not simply people hanging on for dear life to hear just what outrageous thing will pop out of my mouth next. It's never a plan. It just happens. I guess it comes from 25 years of considering oneself a shy person. I exploded.
    
Maybe it's because I actually want to entertain the hot-looking high school girl.

She just keeps on looking at me with her big brown eyes... listening to every word I spew... and laughing her  head off. She has no hidden agenda, except to have fun. Boy would I like to screw her brains out. But... teenager. I have morals, believe it or not. But she will be 18 in a few months...

I'll have forgotten all about her when the next pretty woman comes walking down the street anyway.

As the party ends, only Matthew and I are presented with a doggie bag each, which is appreciated. I'm pretty sure Usha knows about me throwing that uneaten turkey dinner out a couple of weeks ago and feels sorry for me.

Yes... Ashley was there. No, I didn't spend much time talking with her, but I did not ignore her either... I just left her alone to talk with whomever she wanted while I took over the room.

Arriving back at Nishinasuno, Matthew and I ride Ashley back to her tiny apartment. She gives me an ear warmer as a Christmas present, but there's no kiss. That's either because I've done something to piss her off again (not tonight), or because she is embarrassed to offer any public display of affection with Matthew around. Does that bother me? It always has. But apparently even when we were boyfriend/girlfriend, no Japanese people were supposed to know we were a couple. She said she was single. I always told the truth.

But know when we are supposed to be broken up, I can certainly understand why she definitely doesn't want to be seen kissing me.  (Whoops! In 2012, my cat just jumped up on my keyboard at 2:30AM, as she wants me to go to bed. Bad kitty!)

Matthew and I ride back to my place before he rides off home.

It's 10PM... I eat the leftover food and pack my clothes while I listen to some CDs. Tomorrow I'm heading off to Gunma-ken (Gunma Prefecture) for some AET meetings with other foreign teachers from Fukushima, Ibaraki, Gunma and Tochigi.

It's supposed to be a conference where we learn some new teaching techniques. That's all well and done, but shouldn't the Japanese teachers of English be invited to this so that they will allow us to incorporate some of the new stuff? My teachers don't like change and instead enjoy the simplicity I bring. Yes... I know what I wrote.

Somewhere tuning out,
Andrew Joseph
In 2012, I hardly drink anymore... and haven't been drunk in nearly 13 years. Still.. in 1991, I hadn't realized that yet, as it was all very much a challenge I enjoyed participating in.   
Today's blog title is by The Doors:

St. Patrick's Day in Japan

Kiss Me I'm Irish...

To be honest, with St. Patrick's Day being celebrated on March 17, I took a wild stab in the dark that there might actually be something going on in Japan. Something official... and not just a gathering of drunk gaijin (foreigners) at the local bar.

But a real St. Patrick's Day celebration in Japan?

Sure... why not? Any excuse to drink, right?

If you are in Nagoya - Japan's fourth largest city by population - check out the 8th Annual St. Patrick's Day Festival in Osu Kannon, a Budhist temple for the Owari Thirty-three Kannon of the Shingon sect in central part of the city.

Yes... that is an official poster for the fun up above.

The fun starts (officially) at 12:15PM with live music, with what Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife can only assume will be a wobbly parade beginning at 2PM from in front of the temple.

That's not a lot of time for drinking, so be sure to start early and often!

There is also some evening activities for you thirsty buggers, as there is an official after-parade party to be held at Shooters Bar and Grill.

Shooters Bar and Grill? It makes one wonder just where in the green hills of Japan I actually am. Green hills of Japan? Ye wouldn't be drunk now, boyo?

Anyhow... you obviously don't have to be Irish, or even a foreigner - it's a day of drinking and having fun... unless you are a Protestant, but I'm just guessing you'd probably rather wear orange than green ye heathen bastards.

I'm kidding of course. But when drinking, it is always a good rule to keep religion and politics out of any conversation.

And should you wish, more information might be found at www.stpatricksnagoya.com. I said 'might'.

So... come one and come all. You can be Irish or Irishi, but just have fun. And wear some Kelly Green! Olive green is NOT an acceptable substitute! Okay... maybe people cared about the shade of green once, but not anymore... don't worry about the shade of green - at least ye tried ye blind sodomite.

Now some of you might actually be asking just who is this St. Patrick dude and how did he become synonymous with heavy drinking, feeling up redheads (my favorite part of the whole day), and puking your lungs out over into the Protestant part of town.

Here's some background on the wee bastard.

Patricius was born in 387 AD when the Romans were conquering the British Isles. That's why he has the cool Roman name! Now... depending on who you believe, Patricius was born in either Scotland or Wales - not Ireland!

His pa and his pa's pa were priests in the Christian church - so our boy Paddy had a head start... and yet, despite his holy-holy family, he was, at the age of 16, kidnapped by Irish pirates.

I know... Irish pirates in the 4th century do not sound as fierce as the vikings, but who knows?

Patricius prayed to god for help - and received a message from god that should he try to flee, he would find a boat on shore waiting for him.

A boat on the shore? What were the odds? Anyhow... thanks be to god, Patricius made it back home and studied to become a priest, and after doing so he made it his life's work to convert the heathen Irish from polytheism to Christian monotheistic faith (not including worship of the virgin Mary, of course).

In order to explain the holy trinity to the confused savages or Ireland, Patricius used the plentiful clover as an example.

"Y'see here... each one of these clover leafs is actually one entity... the faaaather, the soooon, and the fecking hooooly spirit, and like the clover's three leaves, it's still part of the single clover... three made into one."

"But Faaaather Patricius... Oive got me a four-leaf clover!"
"Yeah, me, too."
"What iffin Oi pulls off a leaf from the clover - then oive got a twooo-leaf clover - which one dies, Faaaather Patricius? Oim going ta guess the oley-spirit cause its a bloody ghostie already."
"Is the oley spirit a wailin' banshee, faaaather?"
"The oley spirit is from Wales? Feck that! Oi though everyone was from Ireland like this four-leaf clover!"
   
Anyhow, after about 30 years of banging his head against the Heather (I don't know if she minded), a tired Patrick died on March 17, 461 AD and was buried in Downpatrick, Ireland.

Do you think it was named that before or after Patrick was laid down?

By the 9th century AD, Ireland thought Patrick was grand and celebrated his death - or rather celebrated him converting them from their heathen ways, though it wasn't until 1600 that St. Patrick's day was added to the Church's calendar.

You'll love this part. In 1903, St. Patrick's Day became an official holiday in the Republic of Ireland. But, after that first event, the government set up a law that would close down all bars and pubs on that day (March 17) to stop the drunken rowdy behavior (but not the pinching of buttocks of the Colleen's and Heather's).

This bar ban continued until the 1970s!

No wonder so many Irish left to start a better life in other countries!

While Canada, Australia and the U.S. love to celebrate drunken rowdy behavior (and the pinching of buttock's of the Colleen's, Heather's, or anything wearing a skirt  - Scott's men beware) with parades, bar hopping (and later bar crawling), you might want to visit Argentina.

Yes, hot women and excellent soccer to be sure, but they have all-night parties in great weather that last to 8AM, when it's time for a siesta before the soccer matches start. There is always a soccer match in Argentina. 

Faith and bejabbers and the fist of God,

Andrew Joseph

Ahead By A Century

It's been a while since I wrote one of these personal blogs.

Today is Friday, December 13, 1991.

I am an assistant English teacher (AET) selected by the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme to teach junior high school English for the city of Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan under the auspices of the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education).

But that's usually not what these type of blogs are about.

Having been virginal until I arrived in Japan from Toronto, I have made it my business to ensure that near 26-years of futility never happens to me again.

Today, I was supposed to be at the OBOE - and I was. But it was soooo boring, that I won't bore you with how boring it was.

I will tell you that the office expected me to join them at the bonnenkai (party) tonight, but rest assured I assure them that the 20,000 was a lot of money and that I could not afford it.

I probably could afford it, but I'm heading out to Singapore in a couple of weeks for a vacation with my friend James Dalton, and I need to watch the way I throw it around.

After work, I ride my bicycle to Ashley's place in Nishinasuno-machi - about a 25 minute ride.

With me, I have a couple of condoms (why?) because I also take a bottle of sake (Japanese rice wine) to heat up (her). I also bring along three videos: A Clockwork Orange; Good Fellas; and a porno flick in case I can interest her into watching or trying out some moves.    

I also bring my contact lens case because I know I am going to spend the night - even though after 16 months here, I can count on one hand the  number of times I have spent the night at her place and still have enough digits to thumb wrestle (and cheat!).

For about one year, Ashley and I were boyfriend/girlfriend. She broke up with me claiming that I was smothering her. Apparently the fact that she came to my apartment 4x a week (or more) and was fed by myself was all my fault.

Whatever. You know what? Despite being a social animal who craves acceptance, I grew up being exceedingly shy, and as such I am used to being by myself.  I don't like it, but I can handle it. What the hell, eh? Why should I be around someone who says I cause her discomfort?

I have no idea... I like getting laid, I suppose... but if that's not happening, then all I am doing is letting her leech from me.

Since then she decided I wasn't all that bad of a guy, and that she would let us be friends-with-benefits. Wait. I get to have sex, but not have to buy her crap? Like dinner, flowers, stuff like that? And... I still get sex? I'm in.

However, I haven't been laid in months. From Ashley, that is. I don't consider being jerked off getting laid. It's more like getting jerked around - besides, I have a far better grip than Ashley. Do I need her?  Let's see what happens tonight...

At Ashley's small apartment, we talk and eat a decent spaghetti dinner with garlic bread. Eating garlic bread is perfectly accepting behavior as along as both of you eat some.

We kiss a wee bit, watch the videos and drink the sake. Hint: Never cheap out and bring a small bottle of booze if you are trying to get laid. Hell... if it doesn't work, you will still have plenty of booze to drink yourself stupid.

After watching A Clockwork Orange, she's drunk and horny and jumps me. I am unsure how that über-violent movie made her horny AND drunk, but I don't care. We're naked in a flash and she guides me inside her - and the... something happened... she remembered something... that something being, I figure, that she doesn't want to screw me...

So, she made an excuse to go to the washroom, and when she came back she said: "Let's watch another video."

She stopped touching me. Stopped drinking the sake. Stopped being interesting. I however, started drinking a lot more sake. See?

Honestly... my mind is bloody racing. I'm not dumb, but I can't understand. I have no idea what the other video was that we watched... doesn't matter anyways...

I stopped the movie half-way through and asked her to explain herself. By the way... I'm not drunk or even buzzed. Being angry... it burns the alcohol from my brain quickly. I know that doesn't make sense, but that's what it feels like. Controlled anger. My cursing is my gift.

So... Ashley talks. Finally. I hate people who can not communicate. I can communicate - and then some. It probably makes me come off like some sort of grunting animal. Feral.

Ashley talks to me in slow, halting, but measured phrases in a style that I recognize 20 years later. 
 
 She says that one of the reasons she broke up with me was because I jumped her every time  I saw her.

Yes... feral. I wanted to hump my girlfriend. I am such an animal. I had no idea that men should not want to screw their girlfriend. I'll have to file that away for future reference.

I tell her that since she never initiates sex, I had to constantly try and see if she was interested.

She was interested sometimes. She was not interested sometimes. Since she never gave any indication other than ambiguity before I tried something, I, the recently deflowered virgin, would try and jump my girlfriend to see if I could interest her in sex.

She said what I said was true.

I told her that if she and I were to have any sort of relationship, I still wanted sex. She said okay.

I did not tell her that have a sexless relationship with her kind of defeats the purpose of having a friend-with-benefit if there are no friggin' benefits. But I was thinking it. Why would I need someone - female or otherwise  - if there was nothing in it for me? Ashley was a nice person (mostly), but she couldn't entertain me. Amuse me. Not unless sex was involved... and that may have just been me mostly getting my ego fed. No idea what the truth or reality was. I still don't.

Anyhow... I told Ashley that I would try not to jump her every time I saw her.

I'm unsure why I decided to tell her this, but I did: I said I once contemplated marrying her, which completely blew her away, saying "I don't know what to say." 

But... she added: "For the first time since I met you... I understand."

That means she realized just how much I loved her... or at least just how fervent my emotions are.

Although no sex was forthcoming, we did go to bed naked beside each other... warm, comfortable... and at least for myself, at ease.

But I am never at ease. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be at ease... taking every perceived slight or action or inaction as something that needs to be dissected and examined. I don't want to do that, but I fear I must or I will go further insane than that which I appear to be.

I had a dream....

The house I lived in was a former army barracks. My dad was there... he had a book and a map... the map showed the way to a coffin that held a special surprise inside. That's what I was told, as he pointed to the un-named book. My mother, father and younger brother Ben entered my bedroom in the basement, I sat on my bed, as my father led them past me towards the furnace. Beside the furnace, there was a wooden fence surrounding a storage area there, which they pulled away...My father looked at the map and said that the coffin was there underneath a guitar case... he moved the guitar case, and sure enough... there was a beautiful polished wooden coffin. I got off the bed and helped - probably because I was the strongest... and to see myself in this dream, that wasn't saying much. 
Grabbing the coffin, all four of us hefted it out of the furnace room and placed it down onto a second nearby bed. Prying it open, there was a mummy inside. Dad clapped his hands twice. The mummy sat up in the coffin. I jumped in shock and ran over to my mother and brother - not to protect them, but to be protected.
The mummy began to talk and offered a plethora of worldly advice, all of it pertaining to Ben: "I know you just wrote many exams and tests and are worried about them. Forget it. You did your best. You can't do anything about the past, so don't worry."
That's when I noticed my dad asleep on my bed. My brother called to him. Dad woke up saying, "I'm awake,' but then went immediately back to sleep. Ben shook him. My father sat-up in my bed and said, "I'm awake," and dropped like he fainted back down onto the bed. I then moved towards him and grabbed him and moved him onto his feet and woke him up with louts of yelling and shaking of his body. That's when I noticed the mummy faint away as my father woke up. Then as my father crumpled in my arms, the mummy resumed providing advice - this time to myself.
The mummy had some control over my dad.
Do you want to know what advice the mummy gave me? I'll tell you. He said...
"Andrew you need to listen carefully..."
He talked for what seemed like hours, but it was of course, far less time than that... 

And then I woke up.

Somewhere knowing I'll let you all know about what the mummy told me eventually,
Andrew Joseph
It seems stupid to say this, but when I slept beside Ashley, I always had colorful dreams that felt real. By myself... it was rare that anything stood out. Or perhaps I only remembered the dreams after being emotionally exhausted. To this day, I still force myself to go on very little sleep in order that I try and have a vivid dream. In 2012, since I suppose everyone dreams, I rarely remember any of them, but still wonder if I do dream. I do so badly want to live in my dreams... but what if I don't have interesting dreams anymore?
Today's blog title is by Canada's own The Tragically Hip because I had a feverish dream...

Teenage Beer Drinking Party

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!

When Love Comes To Town

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:

         

Killing Me Softly With His Song

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:

 

Running With The Devil

It's Valentine's Day...

It's Wednesday, December 4, 1991. I'm teaching at Nozaki Chu Gakko (Nozaki Junior High School) this week.

Yesterday was perhaps the best day I have had in Japan in a non-sexual manner, of course, as the students in the 2-1 class and I were involved in a food fight.

And no! It wasn't just everyone versus the gaijin (foreigner) or against the teachers (myself and a homeroom teacher) - it was everybody for themselves. Truly a major bonding experience.

Thank goodness these kids had never seen a real food fight before or else bowls of liquid goop would have been poured over everyone and everything. It was just the tossing of food at each other - though some of the little buggers (Grade 8s) can really toss a fast riceball. Some of the girls were using binders to serve up an ace of face of diced carrots.

It was nothing malicious and it was terribly fun.

You can read more about that HERE.

Anyhow, today I decide to take in my 1880s Genji comic book (Background data HERE in a blog or TWO) to show Nagashima-sensei, the head English teacher at No-chu (the school nickname).

She is impressed by either the way I can spend a lot of money or at the funny little book that has scribbles seemingly impossible for even her to read, or the fact that I even know who Genji is. I tell her I was educated a bit by Takemoto-san at his antique shop in Nikko.

(Hunh. As I write this out in 2012, I recall that he - Takemoto-san - was a high-school teacher in Nikko. Hmm, my long-term memory is far better than my short-term... unless this is Alzheimer's setting in - whatever that is). 

Unfortunately, she is unable to provide much information for me, as she simply can't decode the scrawls that pass for lettering in the book.

Gods... can you believe I only have one class today? The last one - 5th period?! It's okay, I'm actually a lazy bastard and if I can get out of working, I would.

I do want to talk to as many teachers as possible, but the teachers are pretty busy, prepping for parent-teacher interviews. Hey! Someone has to work. I would glad do five classes a day if that was what they wanted. Okay, maybe not gladly, but you know what I mean.

Luckily I have my Clive Barker book - Books of Blood - to read, but even that bores me quickly. Sorry Clive... but perhaps I am more of a visual guy for horror. I mean... if you had the thoughts in my head....

I don't even feel like studying Kanji (Chinese-style letters) or Japanese... but I do feel like studying thoughts.

My own.

MUSIC: (Add pipe organ scary music here).

(SFX: Bats squeaking and flying; Door slamming. A woman screaming. A pirate ship dashing itself against the rocks - sorry, I got carried away.)

Anyhow... I look inside my head at the events of this past weekend:

The disappointment of being stood up by a woman who is not my girlfriend or significant other, but is merely someone I am supposed to be able to sleep with as need be - a friend-with-benefits - only, I haven't been getting any from her in a couple of months. I had spent a small fortune to get a turkey dinner for her here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan (and actually had to have my boss help me get one from a nearby city, as my city just didn't have a turkey anywhere - except for yours truly.

I wanted to do this U.S. Thanksgiving - just for her. Consider if you will, that I am Canadian, and I already celebrated Thanksgiving a month earlier. By myself. But when she recently confided to me that she was homesick, I thought I would giver a slice of home when she might be at her nadir.

She pissed me off. I hate her effin' guts. I hate being treated like I don't matter. There's nothing wrong with being honest and telling someone you can't make a date - that's cool, but don't say you'll do something and then change your mind without informing the affected party.

This is 1991! Do people still act this callous in this day and age?

I know she's young, but she is supposed to be highly intelligent. A good communicator. It's why we're here in Japan on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.
 
And why is she homesick?! For what? Mom and Dad? Geezus. You just went home over the summer. Suck it up. I haven't seen anyone from home in 16 months - and this is my first time to have ever left home! I didn't spend years living away from home for university like her - or a year in Salzburg, Austria before coming to Japan.

But hey! She said she had a boyfriend before she met me... back in Georgia, I assume. Hmmm, do you suppose she saw him again last summer, and that's why she's been so distant with me?

And what about spending the weekend at Ian's place? I mean, what single woman spends a weekend sleeping at a guy's house and doesn't sleep with them?

Okay... Kristine traveled 500 kilometers and spent a couple of days at my place and despite the fact that I want to wreck her badly - and I'm sure she would let me - we do not sleep together. But that was because I had a stomach disorder that was making a whole lotta pooping for me. Effin' timing! I hate being sick! But I had a painful and legitimate excuse.

But Ashley and Ian? He's a weasaly guy, and not that good looking - certainly lacking in the personality department... oh geez...

I always used to say that Ashley and I had a personality difference: I had one, and she didn't.

They are perfect for each other! She did sleep with him!

But why wouldn't she sleep with me? Despite her having more sexual experience than myself, the virgin, when we first met, I may have had more sexual knowledge, and have only expanded upon that with a larger amount of sexual practice in the past 16 months. I've taught her how to do things... things she has heard of, but never tried.

Oh well... maybe she couldn't stand the limelight. People tend to remember me (I'm just talking about meeting me, now), and if you are with me, people tend to remember you too. Sort off.  Whatever.

Okay... enough pandering to my own dark thoughts. Who cares if she did or didn't sleep with some other guy? What bothers me is the fact that someone else was chosen instead of me. Ego? That's your opinion. I call it self-confidence... or at least it would be if I wasn't so caught up in this emotional eddy.

Make up your mind, Andrew! Figure it out!

At least Ashley won't be coming over tonight, as I warned her that Nick would be coming over. He wants to hang out with me!

She doesn't like Nick, and apparently a lot of assistant English teachers (AETs) on the JET Programme agree with her. And that's fine.

Nick doesn't care what people think about him - or if he does, he doesn't outwardly show it. He's a rogue, but a charming and highly intelligent one - the best kind or the worst kind depending on whose side he is on.

I'm unsure why Nicholas Strachan has taken a shine on myself - but perhaps he just saw another outsider like himself who had a wicked sense of humor and some smarts.

Nick earned my respect by being my first literary critic... telling me that I was a fantastic writer, but that I would keep shooting myself in the foot if I didn't learn how to keep the grammatical and spelling mistakes to a minimum.

(2012 Andrew says: I'm still learning!)

I wanted Matthew to join the visiting Nick, but he has to teach a class tonight. Ashley - well, I'm sure she doesn't want the company, as we broke up because of my 'smothering' ability - I swear, people come to my place, not the other way around!... But it doesn't matter, those two wouldn't be able to keep up with our drinking. Hell, I'm unsure if I can keep up, but it'll be close.

School was the near the station, and I lived near City Hall.

 At school, I write out a good copy of a letter for teacher Rika Fumiya - it takes two hours. Job done, I join a volleyball class. I play a little with the girls, but mostly I just watch. It's a great sport, but I was 5-foot tall until I was 17. When I turned 18, I had to learn how to move again with a frame nearly 12-inches taller. Volleyball was always a sport for tall people, and I still feel short sometimes.

At lunch - I tried to make the kids laugh again in the 2-1 class. I have no idea why I am here again in this food-fight class, but apparently the kids begged to have me come and eat lunch with them. I was requested? Someone wants to hang with me? 

After clean-up time, I stick around and chat with some of the students. One of the kids has the nickname of Gyu = Bull. I thought 'gyu' meant cow, but that's what the kids said. Like a dinkus, I race around the class fingers protruding from my head and pretend to be a bull, but when no one laughs, I'm thinking this big boy may have the nickname for another reason.

A couple of pretty young girls who will be able to stretch some pants in a few years come over to talk with me. Guess what we talked about? That's right - sex. Figures. Just one touch. No!! Damn morals.

Anyhow, the teachers soon gather for a meeting, and I am stuck here in the teacher's office because I am apparently a teacher. Since the meeting doesn't involve me and is in Japanese, I try to read my book again, but I soon fall asleep.

Apparently I began snoring immediately - and no one woke me up for 45 minutes! And that was only because there was a phone call for me!

Apparently I forgot to leave my apartment door open for the visiting Nick.

Nicholas Strachan

I go home early - with school permission - ride the 10 kilometers exhausted before I start the ride, and with a piercing sleep-deprived headache, all the while knowing I am going to be partaking in some heavy drinking later tonight.

Hell, did I say tonight? I meant as soon as I got home.

Immediately after shaking hands, I drag Nick out to Matsuri for beer and food and then upstairs to the 4C bar (all owned by the same gentleman) for more booze, and then over to a snack shop owned by a sexy mama-san who looks no more than 21-years-old, but has boobs each the size of my head. Yowza! If I wasn't so drunk and with company, I'd make a play for her... though I'm guessing she's probably been hit on by every single guy in the town.... and to quote Shakespeare's Touchstone The Clown (From As You Like It):

"Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut were to put good meat into an unclean dish."

The dirtiest words ever from Shakespeare! And the truest!

Nick and I have about five beers apiece, and nine glasses of bourbon and soda, a couple more glasses of sake (Japanese rice wine) and then chase that down with two more beers back at my place.

On the way back to my place, I point out all of the bonsai trees people keep outside, and how easy it would be to steal one - so he does - a big beautiful pine tree.

We run away as fast as our drunken legs can wobble. He tosses the damn plant to me, but fortunately my reflexes have improved in my inebriated state, so I make the catch.

Don't worry... I returned it the next night... I'm only a rogue-wannabe.

Back at my apartment, Nick and I have some damn serious political discussions about China, languages, and literature. He was on the attack early, but I was just using him to find out his thoughts first before killing him with a counter-attack. He admitted defeat when he acknowledge he liked me because I have my own views.

Cool.

I have no idea what we actually talked about, but his compliment is all that matters.

I let Nick pass out at 2AM after watching an episode of The Simpsons, and am soooo  drunk, I pass out asleep on my bed before I can take out my contact lenses.

Somewhere deep in my cup of thoughtzzzzzzzz,
Andrew Joseph

One

It's Saturday, November 30, 1991.

The day after I spent a ton of money (¥40,000 or $520 US/Cdn) to impress my ex-girlfriend, but current friend-with-benefits with a Thanksgiving dinner. You ever eat a turkey in Japan? Near impossible... but I did it with the help of my boss Hanazaki-san (Mr. Hanazaki). Thank-you internationalization.

Ashley - who had said a week earlier that she would come by - did not.

I am concerned. Is she hurt. Dead? Sick? No clue... Out on a date? With friends? It could happen...

Am I worried? No. I have an alibi. Mr. Hanazaki helped me get the dinner and all the fixin's and helped me get it to my apartment from another city! Yes! We had to go to another city to make the damn dinner (Yaita) because my city (Ohtawara) had no restaurant that knew anyone that 1) could get a turkey, and 2) knew how to cook a turkey. Me? Apparently I knew 3) how to pine for a turkey.

Also, Matthew came by at 8:30PM and while I may not have been my usual chum bucket of pal, I was still a decent enough friend who made him eat left-over lasagne while the turkey dinner chilled in my fridge. I said I was sorry, buddy!!!!

I'm up at 10AM because Hanazaki-san is coming over to pick-up my 'fan-heater'... this is a gas heater. I don't want the damn thing as apparently after you start up the kerosene heater, you are supposed to open up a window or sliding door so that you don't die from the fumes... but doesn't opening up the door or window let in more cold? Yes. Sometimes Japan's insistence on things is a little wonky to this gaijin (foreigner) from Canada. I, of course, rather than freeze to death, chose the risk of dying from gas poisoning. It didn't work, but at least I felt warm. My extremities feel a little numb, though.

Still... Hanazaki-san can have it. I'm getting a new AC/Heating unit soon! And my poor boss - he says he always feels cold in Ohtawara's winter. I didn't want to correct him by saying it's not winter yet - after all, it's on his say-so that the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) is buying me money allotted for me via the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme). Though never confirmed, apparently the rumor is that one's board of education is allotted ¥100,000 (~Cdn/US $1294) a year to spent on their AET (assistant English teacher) any way they see fit.

My office likes me and often buys me stuff I want. I have a bilingual stereo TV so I can watch TV in Japanese or English. You need a bilingual TV as some stations will transmit two signals of the same show... so I can watch The Incredible Hulk (1970s), Knight Rider (1980s) all I want. Fortunately, they have the excellent Sherlock Holmes show on for me to wrap my murderous little hands around. I also now have a Queen-sized bed after complaining about how the futon was bothering my weak back. It's much better now, and I no longer get tatami (grass mat) burns on my knees when I have sex.
 
Before he comes over... I clean up and try calling Ashley's place. No answer. Still no call display as of 1991. Someone should invent it. Maybe I should and become a thousandaire!

Where the hell is she?

Hanazaki-san arrives, and immediately asks me how my surprise date with Ashley went. I tell him everything. He sucks a lot of air through his teeth in shock and dismay. He really wants me to be happy and wonders if we should call the police.

Oh god, no, I think, perhaps a tad out loud. Instead, he calls her bosses... who also know about my troubles with her. She mistakenly believes her lie that she and I have only always been friends. You know what impressed me? Hanazaki-san knew her bosses' phone number by heart.

They hadn't seen her either but promised to put out calls to others to see if they knew where she was. Oh god... what have I done? What if she's just out with some other guy? She can - we're supposed to be friends-with-benefits - though she should have canceled our Friday night together if she had other plans. It's stuff like this why I wasn't overly broken up when she broke up with me claiming I was smothering her - despite her being at my place 4-6 days a week. This is not an exaggeration. It is reality, despite my attempts at humor. 

I help Hanazaki-san take the heater to his white car. He smiles weakly and says he will let me know if he finds anything out about Ashley. Dammit! Now he has me concerned. A lot. Though I secretly wish she just forgot about her agreement to be at my place for dinner. It would finally drive home the point that I can do better and deserve better than her... and then I really can move on.

I go inside and call again. Nothing.

While  I am busy eating an 8-piece bacon sandwich at around 4:30PM,  Mr. Endo calls me up and asks if I want to teach an English class for ¥5000 (~Cdn/US $64.70). Sure what the hell. It will take my mind of Ashley, right?

I call her place every 15 minutes.

In my head, should she be all right, I plan on playing it cool... saying how I was expecting her to come over... gentle like... before casually saying that I had a dinner specially made for her... I play it over and over in my head until I am sure I have the coolness factor down pat.

At  the night school English class - it's advanced adults - so I talk about Canada and myself and my family... and then ask if I am so different from themselves. Thankfully they all say we are all quite similar. Thank-you internationalization.

I go home at 8:30PM and phone Matthew and then Ashley - no one answers.

Alone, I go to the 4C bar about a five minute stagger from my apartment. I have seven beers and some French fries in a little over an hour - obviously I have no plans for picking up a woman and screwing her brains out in anger or frustration.

I leave the 4C after giving the boss a ¥2000 (Cdn/US $25.90) tip... something that is never done in Japan - but I told him I needed to feel like I was home, and I needed to give him a tip. Humoring me, he allowed it - though I'm pretty sure he under-charged me by ¥2000 anyway. Everybody wins. Thank-you internationalization.

I go home and open my fridge and stare at the uneaten turkey dinner as I sway in drunken confusion about what the heck is going on with Ashley.

Somewhere feeling numb,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by Three Dog Night: