Pipeline

Let's call today's blog a preface of things to come.

Today is Saturday, September 28, 1991. It's the beginning of the 15th month of my life here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

Whenever I'm antsy, I tend to clean up my apartment. Not so today. Sometimes a guy just needs to do laundry.

I also head out to the post office to mail some letters home to family and friends in Toronto. At that time, being the famous gaijin (foreigner) that I am, the clerk says he has some mail for me. Usually, they deliver it - and all other mail written in English, to my apartment mailbox. I guess I just got there ahead of time.

That type of stuff would never happen in Canada... they have to deliver it to the mailbox.... I like that they know who I am. In fact, I'm willing to bet that the post office even knew I was coming there today, as it seems like there is some sort of underground gaijin spy network going on here in Ohtawara, where everybody gets a 24/7 update on just what their favourite gaijin is doing. Sorry Matthew... I'm the favourite. It's my blog.

Regular readers will know that Matthew is the other assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme who lives in this city (he teaches junior high school at the school outside of the city, and I teach at the seven within the city. He's my best friend here that I'm  not sleeping with.

The posties find a large envelope for me that I crack open immediately, as it's from Susan St Cyr, a JET head... who announces in her letter to me that she is resigning her position... aw, too bad (heavy sarcasm). At least she sent me 34,000 yen (US/Cdn $340) to cover my expenses for mailing out the prefecture JET newsletter The Tatami Times.

I rent some videos and continue to clean up a bit and then invite Ashley (my ex-girlfriend and current friend with benefits) over to watch Uncle Buck before we head over to the 4C bar for some drinks.

Tomiko, the cutie Japanese female bartender, asks me quite pointedly if Ashley is my girlfriend.

"NO!" I tell her quite emphatically.

The whole place hears my response but may (or may not) know what I was saying 'no' to. They probably all knew what the question was. It's that underground hotline.

I have no idea if Tomiko was asking for herself, for one of the six Japanese women in the bar, or all six Japanese women in the bar. Perhaps they were having a bet. Perhaps someone wanted to date me. Perhaps someone wanted to date Ashley. Maybe because everyone knows she was with me, but I've not heard of anyone wanting to date her. I'm sure there are men who do, however. Hmmm.

Despite me now after 14 months having sex for the first time in my life (thanks, Ashley) and having done so with more women than Ashley has ever had prior to meeting me... I feel jealous... for absolutely no reason.

Ashley and I have a couple of drinks. I constantly look around the place trying to gauge the actions and reactions of people to see who wanted to know about my social status... but can't figure it out. I assume now that the question was solely for me... I mean, they could have asked Ashley the same question.... but then again, she has always told anyone who will listen here in Ohtawara that she and I have only ever been just friends... while I have always done the opposite and said we were boinking as boyfriend/girlfriend.

Is that the opposite? Probably not.

Anyhow.. we leave the place at around 12AM, as she has to get home to clean up her place early... as she has a guest coming over.

It's Karen. The new senior high school assistant English teacher in Yaita-shi (Yaita City). The woman who wants to be MY girlfriend, and begged me to slow things down. I only ever wanted sex. Not another girlfriend... I figured it would be a better way to avoid a rebound... Karen wanted to slow things down between us... and suggested some space so that she could get used to Japan.

Fine... but she was the one who accelerated things with me. I hate that. Start me up, and then jam on the breaks. My advice for anyone is to not start what you don't intend to finish. Especially sex! Do you really think that endears men to you? We really do want sex. We'll take the relationship after... after we see if the sex is any good.

I haven't really talked with Karen too much these past few weeks since my mother left Japan. My mom had come for a few weeks to sight-see, and Karen glommed onto my mom and became her best friend. I have to admit that though cute, it kind of pissed me off.

As it turned out, my mom preferred Karen over Ashley... one who wanted me over one who only wanted me for sex... though my mother didn't know that.

Do mother's know best. In this instance, my gut says no. Karen has a lot of baggage, and while I am man enough to help carry it for her, at this point in my life I think I'd prefer to have my cake and eat it too... get laid as much as possible.... but ideally when the time is right, have a girlfriend with less baggage.

While my back is indeed better after seeing a chiropractor here, I don't need to hurt it again with a heavy burden to bear.

So... anyhow... Karen and Ashley are going to Nikko for a few days. I assume just the two of them... though it might actually involve a few other female AETs. Karen, though only here for two months, already went to Nikko with my mom. Ashley and I have been a few times already, and often go to a particular antique shop to pick up knicknacks... masks for her and pre-1867 ukiyo-e (Japanese wood block prints) for me. The proprietor of the shop has taught us many things on our two subjects.

Karen and Ashley going out to spend a few nights together out of town. If I had a dirty mind I'd think manly thoughts. And I do have a dirty mind.

Still... this meeting of the ex and the pre... well, that can only mean trouble for me sometime later.

I ride Ashley back to her place, get a nice kiss and then ride back to my apartment, ditch my bicycle and walk back in to the 4C, to see if anyone (female Japanese babe) wants a piece of me. They better hurry. I get t he feeling after Ashley and Karen's trip to Nikko, there won't be much of me left to screw with.

Unfortunaletly, when I get back... none of the six female patrons are still there, and Tomiko isn't flirting with me. Damn.

Oh well... I suppose someone somewhere is happy that I am here at the 4C by myself. I just know it isn't me.

Somewhere the noose is tightening,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Ventures: NOWORDS
PS: I know that that a pipeline in this song is a surfing term. I'm using it to denote a means of transferring information.

Rocket Man

Cripes. It's Sunday, September 1, 1991 - school starts tomorrow. I live in the small city of Ohtawara in Tochigi Prefecture in Japan. I've been here for 13 months, and I have greatly enjoyed my time here in this strange but wonderful country. The only thing that screws me up is the woman situation.

It's true that I came to this country nearly 26-years-old and still more virginal than a Catholic girl's school, but quickly got over that - though I wonder if I could become a born-again virgin, y'know, just for old time's sake. I've already hit double digits, despite having an unsteady relationship with Ashley for 10 months. Every time we were off again, I was on again with some woman who would literally throw herself at me. Crap like that never happened back in Canada. Never... I could have been on fire in my Toronto-area high school cafeteria or university or college, and not one single woman would have even noticed. Sometimes Canada is a really stupid country.

Even now in 2011, how come I never get hit on? Are women that lazy here - sit back and let the men come onto them, shoot them down and choose the one guy who looks super good but knows it? Welcome to Toronto's bar scene.

In Japan, it's a rare event when I don't have some woman try and talk to me at a bar. It's even rarer that I don't have a girlfriend or regular or even semi-regular sexual partner - but that's what is going on in my life here in Ohtawara. As such... I'm moody and agitated.

Up at 10:30AM, my friend Matthew who lives five minutes away comes over to my apartment. We then walk over to his place and get a ride from his girlfriend Takako to the Asian Rural Institute in the north end of town. They are hosting a picnic at Shinoyama Koen (Shinoyama Park). The Institute is a place for farmers from India, China, Pakistan, Indonesia - heck - Asia - to learn Japanese farming techniques so that they can go back home and apply it there.

Ohtawara, despite only having 50,000 people in it, seems to have a plethora of foreigners living in its boundaries. Along with the 12 people at the Institute (I've never seen so many brown people in one area before - I'm actually from white middle-class suburbia in Etobicoke - a city within Metropolitan Toronto and as of 2011 am still pretty much the only visible minority on the block... some 37 years after I first came to the area), there are also a lot of Japanese businesses (technical types) that have a few gaijin (foreigners) working at their plant for short contracts (from Canada and the US mainly). And there's Matthew & myself who live in Ohtawara, a few New Zealand bartenders, and others scattered around... it's no wonder this burg has an Ohtawara International Friendship Association!

And yet... despite the preponderance of foreigners, most of Ohtawara still seems stunned when they see me, as I am still often the first foreigner they have ever seen. I guess I get out a lot. (Matthew, too!).

At the picnic: It's hot out today. Bloody hot. India in August hot. Hovering at around 39 Celsius.As soon as I get there, I go for a beer and relax. It's a good thing I never (ever) get hang-overs, or I'd be a dead man every day in this country!

As I sit by myself, I overhear people from the Institute talking with Business foreigners with some Japanese locals (there are a few in Ohtawara) about me. They talk in Japanese and in English. I can't speak Japanese worth a damn, but it appears as though I understand a heck of a lot more than I should. When the heck did that happen?

These people are gossiping about me with me sitting maybe 15 feet (4.6 meters) away! They are talking about the number of girlfriends I seem to have.

I don't correct them on that, but do state that I currently have no girlfriends, and don't want one.

My friend Naoko.

Naoko, a Japanese lady friend with the Friendship Association, is ever nearby and asks me 'Why?" I tell her it's because people are always spying on me or gossiping about me, and how could I do that to another woman. Naoko quickly runs off and disappears in the crowd. And it seems like there is a crowd of maybe 100 people.

Suddenly the party-goers at the park, part like the Red Sea for Moses, and I see Naoko talking with Shoko, the very pretty, shy and quiet Japanese local who likes me and me her. Shoko is one of the students in my extra-curricular night time English conversation class I teach (and get paid handsomely) for the Friendship Association.

Feeling stupid from the alcohol and the heat, I want to get away from the gossipy gossipers, so I move off and try and hide. But, Matthew, ever-concerned for my mental health, follows me to ensure I am not by myself. Apparently I yelled my responses back to the gossipers.

Then Shoko comes over and quickly asks me out on a date!? God I love this country. I had always been reluctant to go out with her because I was afraif of the language barrier. Shoko was too, or maybe she just always figured I had a girlfriend and didn't want to be part of the revolving sextrade I had going for me in my apartment building.

Cool. Next Friday she and I will go out for drinks over at the 4C, if I am not too tired from my daily routine of working three hours a day team-teaching (with a Japanese teacher of English) at one of my seven junior high schools (chu gakko).

Despite this bit of happiness injected into my bloodstream, I still act and perhaps feel quiet, shy or aloof. I don't mingle much. I guess I'm still upset about people talking about me within earshot expecting that I wouldn't hear or understand them.

Even back in 1990 and 1991, I had always threatened Ashley (and others) by stating: "Never, ever piss off a writer." Twenty years later, I guess I'm proving my point.

After the picnic, Matthew and I head back to my place and watch some Sherlock Holmes episodes I had taped on my bilingual television and VCR (video tape recorder). We then go to some place called the Orient Club to exercise for three hours. I have no idea why Matthew even knows of this place, but he knows a way more about Ohtawara than I do, as he seems to have more of an explorers spirit, and a greater Japanese language ability than I will ever have. I guess that's why he has a Japanese girlfriend, and I only have a first date with a quiet, shy and reserved cutie pie.

The Orient Club has light cycles, treadmills, stair masters and some other stuff. It's a smallish place, but very clean and well run. We go for a swim, a sauna and then an onsen (it's like a hot tub but a bit bigger). I weigh myself when w start. It's 76.45 kilograms (168.45 pounds), and when we are done, I'm down to 75.85 kilograms (167.22 pounds)! My blood pressure seems a little high at 143/80. My body is hurting, but with the weight loss (I'm not fat! Yay!) I feel good.

Matthew and when finished, go over to the fastfood restaurant Mosburger. It's my favourite comfort food, and Matthew seems to know that. Give me convenience or give me death! Of course our supper blows all of our training, but who cares?!

My mom and dad call me at 12:30AM to let me know she arrived home safely in Toronto after mom came out to visit me here in Japan. Despite the lateness of the hours, I don't care - I couldn't sleep anyway... thinking about Karen, Kristine, Ashley, Shoko and my threesome with two hot Thai women a couple of weeks ago. That's why I'm so moody!

For five days in Thailand, I was getting sex four plus times a day for five days. Now I am not. Karen wants to be boyfriend girlfriend (and I just want sex); Ashley offers sex when she wants to as a friend-with-benefits (I also want a relationship); Kristine - I want a relationship, but she lives 500 kilometres away, and I think she's probably too good for me; and Shoko who I assume wants a relationship with me (but I'm unsure what I want with her - sex, yes, but a relationship with a nice Japanese girl would be a step up for me here in Japan - I am concerned about how we are going to communicate with each other when we have a language barrier. A physical relationship is fine, but I do want more.

Hmmm. Karen is offering me that (and my mom likes her; didn't like Ashley; probably would have loved Kristine; and been luke-warm with Shoko due to communication difficulties) but something about Karen is off-putting. Probably my need to have Ashley back as a girlfriend. I am so screwed up in the head still.

Hey Matthew - I don't think there is enough Mosburger in the world to make me feel better.

Somewhere restless,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Elton John: BLAST-OFF!
PS: I don't sleep well again - a recurring event here in Japan... either due to me thinking too much or not enough.

Bohemian Rhapsody

By the way... sorry about the other night (yesterday). The guys building a monster home across the street hit some cables and down went my Internet, television and telephone... for almost 24 hours!

The guys at the cable company were surprised to learn that people in my neighbourhood were without service. They asked me why I didn't call them sooner. I told them I didn't have any telephone service (again). They asked why I didn't use my cell phone. I don't have one, I told them. This stunned the person trying to help me, as apparently I am the only person in Canada without a cellphone. Hey! No one is belling THIS cat, Roger that!
(Bell and Rogers are two of the bigger telecommunications companies in Canada). They then attempted to sell me on a new cell phone and plan - rather than work at resolving the main problem of me not having any services. Idiots.

It's Friday, August 30, 1991.

I have to go into work -- the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) - I do, and spend it putting together some of my prefectural newsletter for the English-speaking teachers in Tochigi-ken (Prefecture of Tochigi).

I leave at 11AM and head back home.

My mom is leaving Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara) to go back to Toronto.

I change clothes and then carry my mom's two suitcases downstairs. The taxi comes at exactly 1PM, per my friend Naoko's orders.

We travel via Shinkansen (bullet train) from Nasushiobara-eki (Nasushiobara train station) down to Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in Tokyo, and then hop aboard a Skyliner shuttle train to Narita airport in Chiba-ken (Chiba Prefecture).

My mom is talking a lot to me, but I have to admit I am kind of stunned, and I have no idea what she said to me. While the first part of our vacation together worked out great for me (we met in Thailand where I abandoned her in the evenings after sight-seeing together, to go and hook up with a security guard and waitress at our hotel for awesome fun sexual times). The middle part I was moody, but luckily she went off on her own to see Japan herself. When she got back - well, let's just say the last three days were great thanks to the efforts of Ohtawara International Friendship Association, friends Naoko and Tokunori, and the OBOE. Without their help I fear she might have had a crappy time with me. Instead I have memories to last a lifetime--and now after putting it here in this blog, it will last until we get hit by an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) that could wipe out computers and thus civilization as we know it. EMPs are usually caused by nuclear weapons et al. Let's hope that never happens.

At the airport, we have our last snack together: an apple pie and an espresso for her, and a banana choco-pie and a beer for me. I just love that you can get such a wide mix of stuff at a kiosk in Japan.

Then we say our good-byes. See you next year... maybe. I really do like Japan a lot, and am already thinking of staying a third year. I wish I could even stay longer, but the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme only allows participants to stay a total of three years--if their educational office wants them of course.

I'm not sad or depressed or anything... but rather glad... glad I got to spend some time with her. I didn't realize she would be dead in two years.

I go out and purchase some magazines--one of which I will utilize in a blog tomorrow to explain a few things about Japanese culture and language (I hope).

Heading home via bullet train, it's packed and I have to stand all the way... probably making some Japanese person a little afraid that the big gaijin (foreigner) is looking down her top. I was, but she had no reason to be afraid... I mean, it's nothing I haven't seen before - especially since arriving here in Japan 13 months ago.

Back at the train station, I'm too tired top bother going down to a closer train station and then catching a bus home, so I just take a taxi all the way.

Arriving home at 9:30PM, I fry and egg or two, drink a Coke and watch some videos of Tiny Toons that my brother, Ben, had taped for me. Ben, by the way, won an Emmy award for writing for Roly Poly Ollie, a kids cartoon/computer-generated show that won best children's television program... all of the writers got one. That was maybe 10 years later. I do recall that at home, we had to enlarge all of the doors at the top so he could fit his head through there! I kid. I'm proud of my entire family.

Back in Ohtawara-shi, Matthew - ever the good friend - calls to see if things went well for my mom's departure. I assume so. After chatting for a few minutes, I suddenly hit a wall and get very tired and am actually in bed at 11PM.

Somewhere in my apartment by myself,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Queen: EASYCOMEEASYGO.
PS: It is speculated the song is about lead singer Freddie Mercury personal demons with relationships. I'll just leave it at that and not speculate any further... but I think I just figured out that personal demons with relationships - that's what my ramblings of my past are all about. I'm not gay - not that there's anything wrong with that in my opinion... but really, life is all about relationships. Work, home, whatever. I can't write a cool song like this, so I do this blog. It's not in the same  league, of course, but one does the best one can.
PPS: Lots more to come.

My Back Pages

(L-R: Iso-san; Hanazaki-san (standing), pear farmer and wife, my mother Lynda Hyacinth Joseph

It's been an exciting past two days, as the people of Japan have really taken a shine to my mom, Lynda, as she visits Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan from Toronto.

I've been here 13 months already, so perhaps I am old news to the people of Japan... but then being invited to participate in - not just watch - the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri (Sakuyama Festival of the Dead)... well, it's nice to feel good again. I've been on a major downer lately as my girlfriend or woman troubles have really taken their toll on me. I'm not clinically depressed or anything, but I wonder if anyone I know is? Hmm. I'd ask, but I'm too much of a coward.

Yesterday, the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) took my mother and myself all around the outskirts of Ohtawara to see sites I've not even seen before. I'm unsure if that was because my mother was with me or if it was because I brought a large bottle of good Canadian whiskey for the OBOE superintendent.... I'm sure it was my mom!

It's Thursday, August 19, 1991, and I go into the office again in the morning. My vacation is up, so even though there is no school for me to teach due to summer vacation, I am still expected to be at work at the OBOE. That's fair, of course.

At the OBOE, I try to sort out the upcoming issue of the Tochigi JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme newsletter, The Tatami Times. I'm the editor-in-chief, which means I have to put the content together. Because a lot of new people have just arrived in Japan (and Tochigi-ken) one month ago, I need to make sure that I present them with interesting and useful materials along with the usual mindless comedic crap. The magazine is a mess... as I have no idea what to include or where to put it. I actually have too much material.

I head home at lunch and then pick up my film (or rather my mom's film) from the Iseya department store. When you receive your film back (remember, this was 1991!), the clerks open up the film envelope and show you a photo so that you can assure them that it is your film.

At Iseya, the place is essentially run by pretty young Japanese girls in their early 20s. They took great delight in opening up my mom's entire set of photos and placed them out for me—and the other young girls they called over—to see. I am always an object of great amusement for them. I wonder why I've never asked any of them out? I guess I need to gain greater Japanese language skills.

They ask me all about the places in the film, and who is taking photos of me. They giggle with delight as I try to explain that it is my mom's film and that I do not have a girlfriend right now.

I head home totally bedazzled by all of the female attention and chat with my mom a bit before heading back to the OBOE at 1PM. Hanazaki-san asks me with a pained look on his face of I am busy.

"No."
"Then let's leave."

So we do, dropping my my apartment to pick up my mom. I love surprises!

Iso-san, the gentleman who usually drives us around in his white van, joins us, but this time we are in Hanazaki-san's white Jaguar... what he calls his Toyota Camry. I'm telling you, I got lucky! My office crowd has a wonderful sense of humour... I've heard of other offices for AETs (assistant English teachers) are often rather dour.

Oh... and juts so you know, I had already given Iso-san (and Hanzaki-san) a present earlier, to thank him for looking after me here in Japan. It's nothing great, but it's from the heart.

We first go to the Sakuyama district (in Ohtawara) pear farm I visited last year (photo HERE) and get to load up on free pears and grapes. Okay, I do the loading up, as my mom is leaving for Canada tomorrow. Remember mom - don't tell Canadian customs you visited any farms!

Catacombs with 100's of Buddha statues.

Then we drive out to Yawn, sorry, Yaita-shi (Yaita City) to the Sawa Kannon-ji (fountain spring-goddess temple). It's about 400 years old and is in really great shape. We head down into its catacombs where there are hundreds of Buddha statues! Back topside, my mom and I load up on good luck charms (all of which I lost in my house fire three years ago).

It's raining now. What with Ame Otoko (Rain Man = me) and Ame Oka-san (Rain Mother = my mom), how could it not?

Iso-san then takes my mom over to the kimono school across from the Nozaki-eki (Nozaki train station) that is currently the only JR (Japan Rail) station in Ohtawara. To me, it's actually farther away than the one up at Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town) to the northwest of Ohtawara.

My mom tries on a kimono... photos galore via her camera, and just to prove that it's not really a mom-thing, but a camera-thing, it runs out of film. I can see now in 2011 why digital cameras are so awesome.

Kimono school teacher and my mom.

My mom bought a kimono - just not this one... hers was purchased while out west. I'll see if it still fits me and take a photo. Not.

The school has a scale there to weigh bolts of cloth, so I get on and weigh myself, coming in at 77 kilograms (which is just under 170 pounds). All right! I've lost 3 kilograms (~6.5 pounds) since arriving. How the heck did I do that considering all of the booze I've been imbibing?!       

We then head back to the office, as I'm supposed to meet the new English teacher taking over for Nozaki Chu Gakko's (Nozaki Junior High School's) Ishihara Norko-chan (surname first), who was a good friend of mine. She introduces herself as Mrs. Hiyama... so I have no idea what her given name is.

Her English is rusty, but she's really nice and we chat for an hour. Why won't she leave and go back to her school?!

Hanazaki-san then drops us off at my apartment, and by US, I mean myself, my mom and Hiyama-sensei (Hiyama teacher). I guess bevause it was raining, I left my bicycle at the office - and it is now, in fact, pouring like someone should be building an ark and gathering the animals.


I was supposed to have dinner in Nishinasuno tonight with all of the other AETs in our northern section - including Karen, the new girl in Yaita who wants to be my girlfriend. I just want to get laid. I don't want a relationship. Anyhow, since it's my mom's last night here, I stay home and eat a burger and fries dinner.

Naoko and Suzuki Tokunori (the gentleman who allowed me to participate in the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri) come over to make their good-byes to my mom. I think she wishes I would have hooked up with Naoko, as she really took a shine to her.

She shows Naoko some photographs of her trip to western Japan, making sure she sees pictures of a guy she met that she thinks would be perfect for Naoko. Ah... my mom the pimp.

Everyone wants to talk to my mom - including Hiyama-sensei who is still there and joined us for dinner. I have to admit, it was nice to not be--or want to be--the center of attention for once.

Naoko, ever the classy broad, phones for a taxi to come and pick us up tomorrow. Nice.

Somewhere wishing these past three days could have lasted forever,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is originally a Bob Dylan song: This VERSION is sung by Roger McGuinn (The Byrds, whose version of this song I love), Tom Petty (& The Heartbreakers), Neil Young (Buffalo Springfield; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - he's Canadian),  Eric Clapton (The Yardbirds; John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers; Cream; Blind Faith; Derek & The Dominoes - his dad was Canadian), Bob Dylan, George Harrison (The Beatles). Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
PS: The photo up above is indeed one from my mom's camera - I took it. Hard to believe my mom is Indian with that complexion, eh? Plus, she's 52 in this photo. I refrained from posting a photo of her until this moment, her last fun day in Japan... she died two years later of a disease you only hear about on the television show House. It breaks my friggin' heart to look at her photo, let alone write about her. I know she would have laughed her head off reading every single one of my Japan - It's A Wonderful Rife adventures. She missed me getting married, having a fantastic son, and would have been there for me when I needed her the most. It hurts everyday knowing that and living in the house where she died. Crap. I'm tearing up now.

Eat It

After the physically tiring and liver-sapping day of yesterday at the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri (Sakuyama festival of the dead), I figured I owed myself a relaxing day off.

It's Wednesday, August 28, 1991 and I'm here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. My mom, Lynda, has flown in from Toronto to visit me, as I am currently in my 13th month of living, loving, screwing, drinking and simply enjoying myself here in Japan. I arrived here an incompetent virgin and along with hitting double digits and simultaneous double female partners, I have learned how to cook, clean, shop, do laundry and iron. I even was taught by a Home Economics teacher at Ohtawara Chu Gakko (one of the seven junior high schools I teach at) how to sew. I'm only so-so at that, however. Sorry for that crappy joke. I usually do better.

So... even though I am on vacation still, I get up early and drag my mom  into work at the Ohtawara Board of Education (which I have dubbed the OBOE... I have no idea why I only did that back in 2009, and not back in 1990-1993!).

I take the Superintendent a large bottle of Canadian whiskey as a present - to thank him for allowing me the honour of working for him these past 13 months, and for another 11 future months, as well as to thank him for looking after my general well-being. To be honest, he had nothing to do with that, though he may have appointed the two men —Kanemaru-san and Hanazaki-san—that job... but, that's Japan. The boss gets the glory and the booze. Not to worry... I'll take in something for those guys later - when I don't have to embarrass the rest of the office when I don't provide presents for everyone.

I really wish I could... but I'm not a rich man—only in the things that count, and I'm pretty pissed off about that—I can only afford a few presents for those that really looked after me... though, to a person, each one in that office played a major role in my survival this past year.
  
As expected (okay, I didn't really expect it), but the whole OBOE goes ga-ga over my mom!

As a special treat (and thanks for the booze), my mom, Hanazaki-san (who speaks much more English than Kanemaru-san) and I are chauffeured around in the Superintendent's air-conditioned limousine. The Superintendent joins us, as we first visit his family home that actually belongs to his older brother now.

Located in Yuzukami-mura (Yuzukami Village), the place is over 200-years-old, is larger than any home I have ever been in here except a castle, is made of solid spruce wood and looks like it was built last week.

His sister-in-law serves us kuri (cucumber) and nasu (egg plant) salted overnight in a brine. It's fantastic, and I can't believe how much I eat considering neither vegetable is amongst my favourites. It's just that tasty!

We next head over to the Tengu Jinja  (Tengu Shrine)... I have no idea where I am... but Tengu is a large-nosed spirit  who can be better described by seeing rather than me writing about it... click on Tengu above for a lookie-loo. Unfortunately the shrine is closed up for repairs, but we can still see through a window.

We then drive out to the small town of Bato! Great! This is the third place I've never been to today - and guess who doesn't have his camera? Yup. Me.

At Bato, to thank him for his even greater generosity, I buy the Superintendent a lovely piece of Bato pottery - a vase. He was going to buy it himself, but I snatched it from his hands and paid for it myself. He seemed completely shocked, but I think he loved the fact that anyone would dare do something so strange and generous.

I don't know if that's what he was thinking, but the strange grin on his face showed ME that I was probably the first person in this country to ever do something like that to and for a boss. I think he originally thought I was going to buy it for myself and wanted it badly enough to rip it from his hands! Fooled you!

In retaliation, he buys my mother a pair of "His & Hers" coffee cups and saucers. I still have those cups - no photo though, as my wife took the camera with her to the cottage just this morning... me? I have to work!) My mom buys herself a large plate to put into her collection back in Toronto.

Next we head over to Ungonji Komekami (Unganji Temple) in Kurobane-machi (Kurobane Town - where Kanemaru-san happens to live). I have been here before, but nestled up against the Nasu mountain range's Higashi Yama (Eastern Mountain), I finally have perfect picture taking weather. mom as is her fashion in Japan, runs out of film... again.

At around 1PM, we stop off at Naka Gawa (Middle River) for an ayu (Japanese sweetfish) and to see the yana (bamboo ramp used to catch the fish).

They drop us off at home at 2PM, but I head out to go shopping while my mom relaxes a bit. My mom is making a tuna casserole.

She had me invite Matthew and Ashley over for dinner, curious to see why I was hung up on this girl. However, since I have kyudo (Japanese archery) tonight, the dinner is at 5PM.

Today I do go to kyudo with Kanemaru-san (my sensei/tecaher). Ashley who does archery with me decides not to go because she is sleepy. If there is one thing that really bothers me about Ashley, it's her inability to stay awake.

She was quiet during dinner, and acted like she didn't want to be there... but she and Matthew are my two best friends here in Japan, and I really wanted them to meet my mom. Screw Ashley - my ex-girlfriend and perhaps still friend-with-benefits... at least Matthew was the life of the party. I couldn't even look at her during dinner.

At kyudo, I hit one target out of four - alright! It's my first successful hit from the proper distance, and my form is perfect! because of that, they make me sign up for a kyudo tournament on September 8. Aaaaarrrggghhh! I have no idea how to say no, I'm a stinking coward in Japanese!

On the plus side, with my hair in a pony-tail, I feel like Robin Hood... if he had a ponytail and was a real person.

However... during archery, my stomach begins to churn and hurt. Everyone thinks its that Thailand dysentery problem I just got over. Me? I think it's either my mom's cooking or nerves hitting about the tournament.

As such, I need to leave early. Kanemaru-san who drove me there says it's okay to leave, and then sits around talking for a while. All I know is that the gurgling in my stomach is a forerunner to my gut exploding all over a toilet... and I've not seen one at the kyudo club!  Someone's going to be sorry!

When he finally does deign to take me home, I rush up to my apartment and barely make it up to my third-floor apartment. Kanemaru-san follows close behind and waits to see if I am alright.

My mom gives him some take-home tuna casserole. I told you someone was going to be sorry.

Matthew was still there when I got home, though Ashley was long gone. My mom was showing him some of my baby pictures.

I survive.

Somewhere wondering why my mom has my baby pictures with her on a trip to Japan,  
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Weird Al Yankovic. BURP
PS: No offense to Ashley in 2011, but my mom did not like her that much. It's probably because she wasn't as effervescent as Karen - the woman who wants to be my girlfriend, and who started sewing stuff for my apartment with my mom. I think Ashley had her baggage, but it still wasn't as heavy as Karen's. I think Ashley was just more shy, and I really did nothing to nurture her breaking out of that - expect to hope that my new-found brashness would rub off on her. I always figured that since I am the life of the party nowadays, that if she hung out with me she would be part of that party life, too. She may not have cared for that. I thought I did, because I had never been popular before thanks to a killer shyness. Regardless, Ashley preferred her own friends, most all of whom I found bitchy and bossy. She could be with her stand-offish crowd, and I could stand with my non-stand-offish crowd. At this time, I am unsure if I need to be with her or not. Same with Karen. Maybe I need someone new. Maybe I need to just freaking relax. I can't do anything with my mom around anyway... and besides... I haven't heard from Karen in a while... I wonder if she is expecting me to call her.  I don't. 
PPS: Okay... I just listened to the words to this parody song Eat It (イート・イット... this reads: ee-to it-to) (it's a parody of Beat It by Michael Jackson)... it mentions starving children in Japan!; and it mentions tuna casserole! Trust me! I had no idea those words were in this song, as I haven't listened to it in maybe 25 years! I love it when a plan comes together!

Shout At The Devil

Just a quick shout out to all my American friends - Happy Independence Day!

Let's read about another party day in Japan:  

So... It's Sunday, August 25, 1991. My mom has returned to my apartment in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan after spending the past week traveling around the country by herself. That in itself is pretty amazing, as I usually get lost crossing the street. In any country.

I have zero sense of direction.

I'm in my 13th month here, flying over from Toronto as part of the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme) to teach as an assistant English Teacher to seven junior high schools in the city. That's how many there are, and that's how many I teach at - one per week for four days. It's an easy job, and despite some internal belly-aching about things, I really do love my job and love the people and the culture.

Today, I get a peak at some of people and culture.

My mom and I are up early. Suzuki Tokunori (surname first!) comes by to pick us up at 9:30AM. He's a farmer of everything from vegetables to flowers. He's a fine English speaker, tall, strong, intelligent and good-looking with a wicked sense of humour. He's also the leader (at least I think he is) of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association, a group that likes to get together with gaijin (outsiders/foreigners) and make them feel welcome so that each can learn about different cultures.

I may not have fully appreciated it at that time, but I did enough to know that I liked the people in this club.

Suzuki-san takes us over to his farm and house first, where he dresses me up in the appropriate matsuri (festival) garb.

Today is the Sakuyama Obon Matsuri ... it's a Sakuyama district festival of the dead where according to Buddhist traditions, the spirits of those passed are allowed to leave Hell where they reside to come up and hang-out with family for three days. It sounds totally wild - and I wonder how many people really believe that... but then again, this is part of Japanese culture so who the hell am I to even question what they believe - and besides... it's not like it's offensive or someone gets hurt... they have other festivals that do that! More on those later!

I'm wearing a blue hoppi coat with a yellow ribbon and shorts that, for lack of a better term, look like diapers.

God but it's hot outside - 37 Celsius (98.6 Fahrenheit). Hotter than hell, I'd wager.

We walk over to a shrine near Suzuki-san's home. People are praying while a ton of kids are running around screaming at the top of their little lungs. The kids are totally oblivious to the solemnity of the ceremony, though  none of the adults seem to care.

There are no teenagers around and thus, no one knows who the heck I am. Not really, anyway.

My mom, Lynda, talks with Suzuki-san as he takes pictures around the shrine. His kids are hanging around me like flies for some reason... but I'm cool with that, because they are nice kids.

We then walk over to the district chief's home (he's one of eleven). Four men carry around a large portable shrine to his house. Two men dressed as dragons run through the house to chase away the evil spirits. I think that's in case some of the evil dead leave Hell and try to bother the nice spirits and the living.

The chief gives everyone (me, included) a lot of food and beer. It's only 10:30AM.

Thirty minutes later, we're off to the next house. It's more of the same - but it is very cool. I am always taken aback (not surprised though) by the generosity of these people welcoming a pair of strangers like my mom and myself into their home and then plying us with food and booze. I know I'm drunk by 11:15AM. Oh god... only nine more chief houses to go... or are we just hitting everyone's house in the neighbourhood? Why does my liver hurt?

The folks let me carry around a huge banner between a few of the houses. Honour yes - heavy - holy smokes it's heavy. I think we the guys wearing the hoppi coats take turns doing stuff for the matsuri!

Round about the fifth or sixth home, Suzuki-san go and I visit the home of a local ham-radio set. We contact a guy from Moscow - wow - it's just three days after the failed coup attempt! He tells us that things are crazy over there right now with people wondering if there is going to be a civil war.

We head back over to the festivities (after the ham operator gave us more food and booze). The booze, I should mention could be anything from sake (rice wine), beer, or whiskey. I never eat breakfast... but I think I wish I had today.

It's a good thing the dysentery I picked up on vacation a week or two ago seems to not be bothering me at the moment.

By the way... it was only Suzuki-san and myself who visited the ham-radio operator. I have no idea where my mom is, and presume her to be hopelessly lost here in the Sakuyama district (a major farming section of the city) of Ohtawara. Except for Suzuki-san, it doesn't appear as though anyone here speaks any English.... at all.

I'm not knocking the intelligence of farmers - Suzuki-san is proof that they are smart - but it is often true that many Japanese farmers are not exactly highly educated. But even if no one speaks any English, they are smart enough to see a guy large enough to be a small sumo wrestler (a normal-sized gaijin) as a means to help carry around a heavy shrine.

And so I do. But... I do present a bit of a problem for my new friends. I'm about four inches or more taller than everyone else. At least my shoulders are a lot higher... which means that while I can easily carry my load of the shrine, my height will tip it down onto the smaller people.

I learn how to crouch while carrying a heavy load... I am  sure my chiropractor is going to get a visit this week.

We head down with the shrine atop my broad shoulders to another district chief's place. With the shrine, we turn a few circles, sing a song (I don't - I'd love to, but I certainly don't know the words!) and then place the shrine down in his home.

Then it's food and beer time (again!). It hasn't stopped - and I'm so hammered that I'm pretty sure I could lift the shrine up all by myself. Bets are taken and I get to work. Let me tell ya... just because you are drunk, it doesn't mean you are any stronger than usual. I definitely have to see my chiropractor!

Next, I get to play the part of a dragon. Actually, I get to play the rear of the dragon. Figures. To me, this is still the ultimate cool thing, regardless of whether or not I'm a dragon's ass or not. My name Andrew is translated phonetically into the katakana alphabet of An-Doh-Ryu. For my hanko (signature stamp) and meishi (business cards), I use kanji (a Japanese alphabet based on the Chinese pictographs) to make my name mean something in Japanese: An-Doh-Ryu is translated into "Peaceful-Leader-Dragon". Joseph - or in katakana/kanji is Jyo-se-fu means "Help-World-Walk".

I was also born in 1964 - the Year of the Dragon... so if I was to ever get a tattoo, it would be of a Japanese dragon (ryu)... but everyone does that for some reason... even if they don't have as many reasons as myself.  Buggers. It's why I am still tattoo-free.

So... dressed as the rear of the dragon (not the year of the dragon), I run into every single house in the district and shout "Ongiri!" At least that's what they told me to say. I assume it means demons out... but while writing this up 20 years later, my dictionary says the proper way to say 'demons out' is to say: "Oni wa soto". Perhaps these guys were just having fun with me and I was actually shouting for some rice balls (onigiri)!

As I am running through the house yelling for the demons to leave the house, I am expected to toss off my sandals while I continue running around. Fine by me - I have a wicked blister on the top of each foot from sandal's strap!

Oh - there's my mom. She's wandered into the house I am currently in. The men (like men everywhere) are pigs, and are ogling my mom saying she has nice tits (that I did understand in Japanese - having used the term myself on quite a few young ladies here these past 13 months). Everyone is drunk, so whatever.

After the 11th party of food and booze, my mom, Suzuki-san and I slip away to Suzuki-san's home to relax. We get plied with even more food - but this stuff is substantial - onigiri,unagi-no-kabayaki (grilled freshwater eel) on rice and yakitori (grilled chicken chunks on a skewer) ... ahhhh, it helps take some of my buzz off. Not all, mind you, as it was one heck of a noisy day.I love it!

At 8:30PM, we head out to see some of the bon odori (obon dancing). Despite being in Ohtawara, I am told the Sakuyama district does not do the Ohtawara bon odori, but rather chooses to do the more famous Nikko bon odori, complaining that the Ohtawara version is too new at a couple of hundred years versus the 500+ year-old Nikko one. Nikko is a very old city about 45 minutes west of Ohtawara, and is famous for being the birth place of the three wise monkeys (Hear No Evil/See No Evil/Speak No Evil). It sounds funny to me.

As I sit and watch the dancing, little kids find me and begin crawling all over me, grabbing my hands and playing with my long pony-tailed hair. A few little girls grab my hand to make me walk around with them - so I do. Some of the kids started giving me presents and then gave some to my mom, too once they found out who she was.

Whomever said that the Japanese are afraid of or don't like foreigners is an idiot. And not the type I am.

We go home at 11PM with a ride from Suzkui-san's wife, as it appears as though every single man in Sakuyama is smashed drunk! Man, I love this place.

Somewhere hell is blistering hot,
Today's blog title is by Mötley Crüe: SHOUT
PS: In the photo above... I'm the tall brown non-Japanese fellow. See HERE for more photos!
PPS: Oh... and read my other blog! I just added a new entry a day or two ago: FEELTHEHEAT

Power To The People

Saturday, August 24, 1991 - second attempt.

I'm still here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I'm in my 13th month here. I'm a happy go-lucky person but I've been out of sorts lately... women problems... umpteen guests... lots of demands on my time.

Party-party-party. So many parties, man.... my liver hurts.

Dysentery. Blah.

Did I mention women problems?

Whatever. Today I get up early get some medicine for my gut and then head out for a haircut. Ohtawara is a funny little city. You just never know who you are going to meet.

the pharmacists and the barber are both members of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association and speak decent enough English for me to get what medicines I ned and to get a haircut that won't make me look like Moe from the Three Stooges.

Nakamura Muneo (surname first) is my hairdresser. He's my age - 26 - friendly, reserved, charming and witty. His barber shop is large, well-lit... and I swear it had a copy of a Penthouse magazine there to read while I waited my turn. This place is classy! Nakamura's! Visit and tell them Andrew sent you!

Along with getting my hair washed, cut and styled, blow dried, I got a neck, shoulder and scalp massage. I got shaved - as well as nose hairs plucked, ear hairs mowed back, forehead scrapped, and a hot towel on my face. I got lotions on my face, neck, ears and hair and when he woke me up, I felt like a million bucks.

As Muneo-kun (kun is a title given to boys/chan to girls, and allows you to use the first name in a  fashion that doesn't sound overly formal... as the Japanese call their friends by their last name quite often) puts my hair into a pony-tail, we chat more about his trip to America, having just returned a few days a go after visiting Santa Monica, California, Las Vegas, Nevada and the Grand Canyon - I think it's in Arizona.

Again - I feel great! Energized and ready to take on the world. Or at least my mom who is returning after spending a week traveling around Japan by her self. She's visiting me for a few weeks from Toronto.

I guess because I haven't had any free space or time off to myself in months, I felt a tad grumpy. Okay, I could have killed people. Is that still considered grumpy?

I go home, clean up the apartment a bit and await the return of the all-powerful MOM.

She arrives at 8PM, just as the Malaysian Fashion/Beauty Show is about to start. Oh well... can't win'em all.

We chat as she eats the remainder of some killer chili con carne I mad, and raves about all of the wonderful people she met.

Let's look at that last paragraph for a second. She raved about all of the wonderful people she met. People. Not the sights. People.

That is what she and I would always talk about after this. People.

It struck me so hard, that I have little memory of where exactly she visited. I assume it was Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Osaka and Kyoto.

She met a guy who she wants to match up with my friend (only my friend) Naoko. Naoko is a tough as nails, independent woman who is kinder and nicer than almost anyone I know. She doesn't take any bull crap from me - and that's something I have always appreciated.

It's funny... I know about five or six Japanese women who are tough as nails and independent, and not one of them was interested in sleeping with me (no problem there, but I was available should they have changed their tune) but all of them were having a hard time finding a mate. I think they scared off a lot of the Japanese men who wanted someone more domesticated and docile. That's just a guess, of course.

Anyhow... good luck to that poor bugger my mom wants to introduce! Ha!

What I do recall, however, is that my mom remarked at how often it seems to rain in Japan. Ha! I begin calling her Ame Okasan (Rain Mother) as it seems to rain whenever she travels... just like me, the Ame Otoko (Rain Man)!

I crash at 11:30PM (long after my mom has gone to bed)... but still 11:30PM? I'm exhausted! It must be the dysentery more than anything else. has to be. I haven't done anything else.

Somewhere people watching,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by: John Lennon: RIGHTON! I know the song is a revolution song, but it's my salute to the people of Japan who showed my mother a good time, even though she didn't speak any Japanese - none! And she never got lost either. I have no idea how she did or does it!
PS: In the photo above, you can see my mom showing off the kimono she bought.
PPS: In the photo to the right, here's my mom and Naoko together... my mom is proof that a strong, independent woman can get by in the world just fine. My dad did alright for himself.

I Don't Like Mondays

So... I finally have the girl of my dreams over at my apartment. She's looking even more spectacular than I recall... it's been a couple of months since I saw her last... why is she getting better looking?!

I'm 26-years-old. Single. I'm tall, reasonably good-looking, in shape. I'm a Canadian, born in London, England of Indian parents (dot, not the feather), and I'm living in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan. And I'm horny. And she—Kristine South—likes me too. In fact,  she has come 500 kilometres from the west to visit me and see the sites of nearby Nikko-shi (home of the 3 wise monkeys).

We're both AETs (assistant English teachers) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching Programme)... it's August 19, 1991... a Monday.

Oh... and I'm sick as a dog, compliments of dysentery. Not exactly a sickness that makes a beautiful young woman want to hang around you... hormones be damned.

Despite spending last night at my place, we spent it in separate rooms. I know what I was thinking when Kristine asked if she could use my place as a base... I was going to pitch a tent for her.

But... the best laid (unlaid) plans of mice and Andrew often go awry. It's why I usually never make plans and try to go with the flow. Who knew that would imply going to the toilet eight times a  day for six days? 

Feeling my pain from a goodly distance, Kristine got up bright and early and went out to get me some medication. Kristine has only been in Japan as long as myself (almost 13 months), but she speaks Japanese quite well. She may have the advantage of being half Japanese and half American, but she's also quite smart. Smarter than she looks.... that sounds like an insult. Just remember, however, that she is drop-dead gorgeous... so I'm paying her quite the compliment as far as her sexy brains.

I sure would like to suck on her intelligence. 

The medicine helps a little bit... at least my toilet frequency is now every two three hours instead of every two. Small victories, eh.

Kristine leaves my place at noon to go to Nikko. I would have loved to have joined her... and gone to Nikko as well, but doodie calls.

So instead of walking along the ancient temples and shrines of Nikko arm in arm with the woman of my dreams, I instead sit on my balcony (west one), and soak up some sun rays in the hopes of getting that wonderful copper tan I get.

But... when it comes to me and the sun, I never seem to win... at least not here in Japan. The clouds come rolling in - but it does not rain. So, I go back inside and sit around watching a video I had rented (It Happened One Night), a fantastic 1934 romantic comedy with Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable, that was the first to win all five major Academy Awards (Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress and Screenplay). Considering my mood, health and Kristine, I probably shouldn't have watched that one.

Kristine's ex-boyfriend Rory calls me up from Tokyo to tell me that the U.S.S.R's General Secretary of the Communist Party (ie: the leader of the country) Mikhail Gorbachev had been overthrown. Holy smokes!

As well, there's also a hurricane brewing.

Hmm, I hope my mom will be okay. She's here visiting, and is currently on the road out in western Japan... by herself. I don't know how she does it. I get lost crossing the road.

Kristine comes back, tells me all about her wonderful trip, and on any other night I would have taken her out and got us both dinner and drinks... but today, I'm just not very good company. I don't like Mondays.

Sorry Kristine.

Somewhere sitting alone on his throne,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog is by the Boomtown Rats: TELLMEWHY

Feeling Alright

I'm back... sorry for the interruption.

It's Sunday, August 18, 1991. And I have recently begun my second-year of my wonderful rifde here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

Today is an eventful day, as I say good-bye to one guest, and welcome another.

My mom has been visiting from Toronto, as has my friend John.

My mom is out of my apartment at 5:30AM (apparently there IS a 5:30 in the morning... who knew?) to go on a trip to Kyoto out west.

John? He's heading home today. We leave my place at noon. It's super hot (37 Celsius), and if I thought hos bags were heavy when he arrived (he brought me a 12-pack of beer bottles), it's incredibly heavy now after souvenir hunting these past few weeks.

I'm still sick from dysentery (picked up in Thailand last week - at least I hope it's dysentery, as I had carnal relations with two beautiful 21-year-old Thai women... usually one at a time, but before I left both at the same time), and I'm feeling very weak from all of that wiping of my butt. As such... I'm not in the best of moods... not that it matters, as I haven't been in a good mood for a few weeks (Thai sex excepted).

John and I have a non-eventful ride to Tokyo's airport, Narita, arriving at 4PM. As we are shopping for crap souvenirs, I run into Brian, an American who works in Ohtawara for an electrical firm (he's on a real exchange). He's there to see off his brother - and I agree to meet up with him around here at 5PM. Small world, eh?

I dump John at 5PM. I slap him on the back and tell him to "look after that job-thing first" and then say
"See-ya" and leave. I'm not sure who goes on a vacation half-way around the world when they are out of work, but that's my John.

Speaking of john's... I need to go to the toilet, but I know if I open up the floodgates, it will never stop. Instead, I have intense intestinal control. 

Guess who I am meeting? Kristine South.

That's right... the awesome American girl of Japanese descent who has been the object of many a real-life fantasy. She lives in Shiga-ken (Shiga Prefecture) some 500 kilometres away... kind of where my mom is heading today.

I don't know if it's a Florence Nightingale thing, but on my first night in Japan, Kristine saved my life. I looked left to cross a large street in Tokyo, instead of right. She pulled me back from certain death... so I guess we all have Kristine to thank (or blame) for this blog. Yay!

Kristine is gorgeous. But that's not even her strong point. It's her kindness, generosity, intelligence and sense of humour all tied for number one. That's how much I like and respect her. It means that though I do want to sleep with her (and I think she with me), I don't think I'm good enough for her. To be honest... with her, it was never about a one-night stand. I wanted a relationship.

Now Kristine doesn't know that. She thinks I'm playing hard to get. It might even surprise her in 2011, as she is know to read this blog every once in awhile. But, she did say that I always seemed to have a woman on the go... and she wasn't impressed with my taste in women. Though she did not meet the Thai girls, I'd have to say she might be correct. It's why I don't think I am good enough for her.

Still... she is coming over for a visit!

Did I mention I am sick?

I'm supposed to meet her at Ueno-eki (Ueno train station) in Tokyo at 6PM. The phone message I left on Rory's machine was for her to meet me at the Shinkansen (bullet train) ticket machine. I forgot, or didn't know, that there were two of them spread quite far apart.

By the way.. Rory is an ex of Kristine's... and I like him, as we seem to be quite similar... so maybe Kristine and I could be an item... if only she didn't live 500 kilometres away!

Anyhow, Brian and I are late. We arrive at 6:30PM... and hang around the ticket machines until 7PM, and then leave. We go to a McDonald's for dinner... and all I can think about besides not pooping my pants is that Kristine and I just aren't destined to be together... like two ships sailing past another in the night.

The McDonald's - I have a McTerriaki burger - lasts five minutes in my stomach. Did you know that McDonald's toilets are the same messy experience all over the world? At least that one was after I got through with it. Oh my gawd!

We then head for home. I am so sick and depressed now, it's not even funny.

We we are talking on the train, I notice Kristine walk by on the platform. I run out and yell for her to get on!

Hugs and a kiss on the cheek... and major apologies by myself.

See? I told you she was smart! She was going to get on the train and make her way to my place. She had my address and phone number and was going to stay in Ohtawara even if I wasn't there! And then give me grief later! What a woman!

Kristine and I take a taxi back to my place - Brian a taxi back to his. He doesn't really live that close by, and I suspect he figured Kristine and I could do with a bit of privacy.

Kristine - back at my place - is now fully aware that I am even more sick than I suspect... so after we talk for a few hours, we crash for the night. I don't want her to get sick... so we spend it in separate bedrooms.

Figures.

By the way... you may have heard me whine about how I haven't had a day to myself in weeks, and how it was killing me? Well... this was one night when I wish I had closer company.

The gods are conspiring against me...

Somewhere I have until Tuesday to get better,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Joe Cocker: REDCROSS

Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me & My Monkey

It's not all about the sex. It's just mostly about the sex. This blog is mostly about the part that is not about the part that is mostly about sex. I get it, even if I'm not getting it today.

It's Saturday, August 17, 1991. I'm living in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. My mom has come to visit from Toronto. Karen, who is newly arrived in Japan  (three weeks), wants to be my friend before we embark on sex.

She and I are assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. I'm on my second year here. I've also just come off a break-up with my girlfriend Ashley of Augusta, Georgia, and subsequent friends-with-benefits equation. It's sex without the hang-ups of ... well, everything.

I recently returned from Thailand where I was lucky enough to have become the boy toy for two hot-hot-hot Thai women who are 21, work at the hotel I stayed at, and were cool with me dating the other girl. Dating should have been in "quotes". My last night there involved a Thai sandwich, that was both filling and satisfying, but has left me wanting more... and that doesn't seem to be something I can pick-up here in Japan. But... never say die.

And here's Karen who wants to slow thing down so that we can have a relationship before we have sex. She obviously doesn't know who the heck she is dealing with. 

My mom and Karen went to the famed historical city of Nikko together yesterday. Nikko is famous for its "Three Wise Monkeys"... you know the ones: "Hear No Evil; See No Evil; Speak No Evil".

There should be a fourth one: "Touch No Evil, with the monkey grabbing his groin area. Matthew actually got me a statuette of the Four Wise Monkeys... and I'll be damned if I know where it is. Probably got taken out in the house fire a few years back.

Karen rather than going back to her apartment two towns south when the trip was over, came back to my place. She and my mom talked. I think I just touched myself while remembering Thailand.

Anyhow... at 8:30AM, Karen comes bounding into my room and jumps atop me, puts her arms around me, kisses me good morning, waiting until something pops up between us before hopping off. Damn... now more monkey business for me later.

She wants me to get up and fix her some tea and toast. I'm exhausted both physically and mentally. I haven't been alone in weeks and I've had dysentery.

By this time, my mom is up and sees Karen following out of my bedroom, arches an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. I don't even bother trying to correct her mistake, as she already thinks I slept with all of the female staff at our hotel in Thailand, and that I probably got the stewardesses pregnant on our return flight home.

Why tell my mom she's wrong? besides, she knows that even if I was doing what she suspects I am doing, that I would be smart enough to use all of the condoms she sent me.

I am.. but if the past week in Thailand has taught me anything, one can never have enough boxes of condoms.

Because  I seem to have misplaced my bicycle key (to unlock it), I call up my boss, Kanemaru-san, at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE). He comes over, and I introduce him to everyone. He raises an eye at Karen and then looks at me... like 'what the hell are you doing?!' I shrug my shoulders back at him as if to ask 'What the hell am I doing?!' We then take my bicycle over to one of the 347 bicycle repair shops that are apparently all located on a single laneway called Bicycle Repairshop Street.

I'm making that up, but it's not really that outlandish. I just have no idea what any of the streets are, as there are no street signs denoting it.

We leave my bike there - as they will apparently either create a new key or put a new lock on, and then drop it  off at my place tomorrow. 

Back at my apartment one hour later, Karen and my mom are sewing pillow cases for my sofa. You've got to be kidding me? It's almost the last straw. If it wasn't for Karen's awesome sweater puppets, I would've blown a seal... and then got angry when the seal wouldn't call me the next day.

I hate this! I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to feel obligated to anyone I'm trying to boink.

I head out onto my western balcony for some fresh air, and to read Sherlock Holmes, as Karen, my mom, and now local girl (and only friend) Naoko plot out the details of my mom's trip out to the western part of Japan. Holy crap... my mom is going to see more of Japan than I ever will!

Why am I not going with her? Oh yeah... I'm 'busy' and have no money.

Karen wants to go with my mom (please god, no), but I don't think she realizes just how expensive it really is.

At 4PM, I take a bicycle trip out to Ashley's place to water her plants while she is away in the U.S. No, my bicycle is not yet back, however, I borrowed Ashley's bicycle for Karen to ride a few days ago... lucky... so at least I have something  - a girl's bike - to make the 20-minute trip (by bike) to Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town).

Of course, pretty much every single one of my students in seven junior high schools happens to be out that afternoon, and sees me riding a girl's bicycle. Most laugh their head off, while others gasp as they know it's Ashley-sensei (Ashley teacher's) bike - and what happened to her.

The all-seeing Eye of Agamotto, which sees all and knows all, only watches my life. Perhaps it's because Ashley lives in Nishinasuno (northwest of Ohtawara), that people don't seem to know much about her life... or perhaps it's because she doesn't tell everybody everything. Whatever... she told me, so therefore, everyone should already know everything about her!

You know... I warned Ashley many, many, many times to never make a writer angry.  See? I told you not to make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry (or apparently when I'm not angry).

Unlike my friend John who left my fridge empty for me when I came back from Thailand, I restock Ashley's fridge with some bare necessities, as she is returning on Tuesday.

Back home, my mom's reservations for tomorrow's Shinkansen train ride out west, and for her hotels... they are all set. Karen has indeed found the financial waters at tad too deep and has correctly decided to get out.

Naoko drives Karen to the train station so she can go back to Yaita-shi. That leaves just me and my mom... and she's in the bedroom packing for tomorrow. I enjoy the quiet for exactly 30 minutes... that's when John arrives back at my place.

I make him, Naoko and my mom a super hot chili dinner. It makes them all sweat, but at least no one bitches about the heat. I don't eat because I know the food won't stay in me. One, if you'll pardon the pun, solid week of dysentery.

John's trip to Fuji-san was a partial success. He apparently got down to Tokyo without a hitch, but then got on another train that went east instead of west. By the time he discovered the mistake and actually got to Mt. Fuji (I don't believe it actually exists), there were no buses going up to Level 5 (a place where most people actually start the climb so as to not tire themselves out too much when trying to reach the summit. 

So... he either had six-hour hike or the option of a taxi. He took the taxi. I don't blame him... but how much did that cost?! The cab driver gave him a walking stick with all of the levels he would have physically climbed if he hadn't taken a car. The stick, actually contained a few more levels and had a stamp for the peak.

Still, John made it all the way up to Level 8 - and then crashed. He awoke cold and hungry, but did get some really good pictures. That's what he said. I never actually saw the photos... more proof that there is no actual Mt. Fuji. You can read my explanation for this HERE.

Anyhow... everybody loved my chili... especially my mom, who had no idea that I could cook. I can't. This was pretty much the only thing I can make.

after John packed and got ready for his flight back home tomorrow, he and went out for four beers apiece at the 4C bar. We run into another local gaijin (foreigner), Kevin... and both he and John chide me for being too quiet. Hell... I'm sick. And tired.

Am I loud enough for you boys now?

Somewhere touching my monkey,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beatles: COMEON 
PS: I was actually quite impressed with John for trying to climb this imaginary mountain. He did good.
PPS: The image above is NOT the one Matthew gave me... his was a white plastic and maybe about 4 inches high per monkey. I can still picture it perfectly.

Where No Man Has Gone Before

It's Friday, August 16, 1991... I'm up at 8AM and feeling sick from dysentery--I can't stop going to the toilet! I'm living in the small city of Ohtawara, Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan... and have just started my second year here.

My mom is visiting from Toronto, as is my friend, John. I haven't had much time to myself--and that's something I think I really desire... even if its for a couple of hours alone every night, just to get my thoughts in order so that I can survive another day. I'm not depressed or anything... at least not clinically... I just need space. Star Trek got it right. Space is the final frontier.

I'm here in Japan to seek out a new life (for myself), a new world, and a new civilization. To boldly go (or to be grammatically correct), to go boldly where no gaijin (foreigner/outsider) has gone before. Trouble is... I don't feel like Captain Kirk in charge of my own spaceship. I feel more like that poor sucker in the red suit who knows he's going to die when beamed down onto a new alien planet.

That's what dysentery feels like. Plus my butt hurts from the lousy thin toilet paper here in Japan. I try to buy the two- or three-ply stuff, but it just seems too thin! When will someone invent toilet paper extra thick in the middle so your thumb doesn't break through and get crap all over it?!

Ahhh, but I digress.

I'm too sick to go with my mom, Karen (the girl who would be my girlfriend), Naoko (the girl my mom wants to play matchmaker with having met plenty of eligible bachelors on her sojourns around Japan) and Mr. Suzuki (the president of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association).

John leaves at noon to go and climb Mt. Fuji (Fuji-san). I still think that is a waste of time. I don't believe it exists. I've traveled by it five or six times and have never seen it. I've also climbed nearby Mt. Nasu (Nasu Yama) and used the telescope to supposedly view Mt. Fuji... and every single time there is some sort of weather thing obscuring what the Japanese say is Mt. Fuji. Fog. Clouds. Rain. Snow. Godzilla. It's just never been visible for me.

As John leaves, I get up out of bed  - free at last!!! - and fix myself up. Kanemaru-san (Mr. Kanemaru), my boss at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE) calls and asks me to come to work in the afternoon, as there is some heavy busines they need to discuss with me.

I'm on vacation, but what the heck. It's only a five minute bicycle ride away from where I live at 307 Zuiko Haitsu in downtown Ohtawara. It's the tallest building in the City, and is also supposed to be the most luxurious. I don't know about that, but my apartment certainly is large... three bedrooms, LDK, full bathroom, washer/dryer, and a pair of balconies... one to the west and one to the north. The north is lived in by Mothra-sized spiders that come out as it gets dark. Ick. I hate spiders.

So... at the OBOE, the earth-shattering work they need from me, is to hanko (sign) a single document. That's it. Whatever. I know it couldn't wait, and it's not like I was doing anything important. At least they all know I'm sick, as I have always told everyone exactly how I am.
"Kyo-wa, ogenki desuka? (Today, how are you?)"
"Ma-ma desu (So-so)."

Then the dictionaries come out and everyone determines what's wrong with me. Trust me... in this country where you don't know the language, system or anything, it's best not to keep too many secrets. Not like I can anyway. There is some sort of grave vine network in place in Ohtawara that lets the populace know where I am and with whom; what I am wearing, eating, drinking, purchasing or whatever.

I know this sounds stupid, considering I like being alone sometimes, but it's nice that the whole city seems to have taken a shine to me, and seems to be looking out for my best interests when it's obvious I don't do that for myself, what with being a recently deflowered virgin and current idiot.

At 6PM, my mom arrives back from Nikko... oh, and look who she brought back with her... Karen.

Karen and my mom are best buddies now, and enjoy the camaraderie. Me... I love my mom, but even back in Toronto, I sat alone in my room in the basement and watched Star Trek by myself (see THIS video).

Karen wants to spend the night. Schmoozing with my mom. They chat until 11PM when my mom finally packs it in.

Karen, with her head in my lap wants to know if I expect anything tonight. She says she'd like to be my friend first.

So, who the heck said anything otherwise? I just want sex. Not with my mom in the place, of course. My apartment is big - just not that big!

Karen says that sex can wait until later.

What? I have not said anything about sex... but there are certain expectations. I just nod my head and say okay. I certainly wasn't expecting her this evening, and I wasn't expecting anything tonight. I do have dysentery, afterall.
 
Karen sleeps in the living room on my couch. My mom is in my room on my queen-sized bed, and I'm sleeping in John's room, which is a bloody mess.

Somewhere beyond my rim of the star-light,
Andrew Joseph
Blog title is by Alexander Courage who wrote the theme song to Star Trek: WARPFACTOR.
Here are the original words to the song that were not used - written by show creator Gene Roddenberry. Sorry Gene... it sucks.



Beyond
The rim of the star-light
My love
Is wand'ring in star-flight
I know
He'll find in star-clustered reaches
Love,
Strange love a star woman teaches.
I know
His journey ends never
His star trek
Will go on forever.
But tell him
While he wanders his starry sea
Remember, remember me.

Get back

Crap. First off.... Happy Father's day.

Second... sorry for being late with the blog.

Third... sorry... I screwed up, and skipped ahead a day. Thanks to all who pointed that out. Okay... no one did. I caught the mistake myself.

Fourth... I had a few rum & cokes... then I realized I forgot to blog, and that I skipped a day. When it rains it pours. I hope my typing is up to speed.

Here is the missing day. It's Wednesday, August 14, 1991. Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

Karen... the new kid on the Tochigi-ken (Toichigi Prefecture) block calls early and says she'd like to come over.

Karen and I met a week ago when she first arrived in Japan. She's a young, attractive redhead with big boobs, pale white skin, freckles, a couple of pounds overweight, funny, articulate, intelligent... so what's wrong with her? She seems to have a lot of baggage. That's just my opinion, though. While she likes me (a lot!!), she wants to slow things down so we can have a proper relationship.

To be honest - and this isn't fair to her - I don't want a relationship. I do... just not with her. I want sex. Sex would be good. But what I really want is a relationship with my current friend-with-benefits, Ashley... who also happens to be my ex-girlfriend here in Japan.

She broke things off with me claiming I was suffocating her. Maybe. All I know is she was over at my place five times a week. Maybe she liked to eat my food. She was able to save enough money to go back home to Augusta, Georgia a couple of weeks ago, while I had to rely on my mom to buy me a ticket to Thailand, where I met her last week before heading back here to Japan (with mom in tow) two days ago. Someone is being used.

Life is complicated here in Japan. In Thailand, I was banging two Thai women at different points in the day... and on the last day there, both at the same time. Okay... that's physically impossible, but you know what I mean. There was no jealousy at all. No complications... just sex without the hang-up of emotional baggage.

Oh... did I mention my friend John has flown over from Toronto to spend some time in Japan? Sure I have a 3-bedroom place... but man... I need my space, baby. I'm a loner. Always been, probably always will be. I need my own downtime. My very good friends back in Toronto, Nigel, Rob, Kevin... they know this and are smart enough not to constantly call me. I still love them all - even when I'm incommunicado (hint, hint)... sometimes, I'm just tired, over-worked or simply down on myself and need time to think. I wish I could be that social guy... you know the one who wears the mask here in Japan pretending to be the social butterfly... but I'm not. I'm a pretty damn fine actor when I have to be.

Japan kills me sometimes. Slowly by degrees.

No wait. Scratch that. Japan is fine. It's uplifting and exciting and I learn something new every day. I kill myself a little every day. I'm just a tad too introspective for my own good. I'll have to do something about that one day. Maybe soon. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall where they may.

Maybe the threesome thing in Japan taught me that I should just say 'screw this' and have some fun! I owe it to myself. We all do, don't we? Why should I always have to be responsible?

The answer to that one is actually quite easy. Prior to arriving in Japan... I wasn't responsible. At all. Japan has forced me to grow up. But it comes with a price. I'm conflicted. I mean I had to grow up literally overnight. I didn't get to grow into it. I moved from Toronto to Ohtawara, and had the opportunity to re-invent myself.

Why didn't I reinvent myself into someone cool? Probably because I didn't realize the reinventing was going on while I was reinventing. I was just rolling with the punches and trying to survive being a stranger in a strange land.

Holy crap... I'm getting maudlin here. Damn rum and cokes.

Anyhow... Karen. She calls and wants to come over... so, like a good little obedient sheep, I ride over to Ashley's place in Nishinasuno-machi (Nishinasuno Town) and then take her bicycle over to the station. Yes... I have her bicycle key. This way, Karen can ride Ashley's bike from Nishinasuno-eki (two stops north of her town in Yaita-shi), over to my city of Ohatawara.

Karen doesn't know about Ashley and our current or previous relationship...

Karen is waiting for me on the wrong side of the train station... and it takes me 20 minutes to notice.

We ride back slowly to my apartment. Chatting, occasionally holding hands, having a good time like couples are supposed to in the television commercials. What the heck am I doing?

Karen and my mom get along like long lost friends! Cripes! They just sit on the couch together and talk and talk and talk.

My mom, Lynda, to her credit, knows I was a whore in Thailand, and that I am sleeping with Ashley and apparently half the female population of Ohtawara... but doesn't say anything untoward to Karen. She really likes her. Could I be mistaken about Karen? I mean, if my mom likes here... shouldn't I? I do... but I'm conflicted!

I make a lot of tea and toast. My mom likes tea, and Karen is sick. Did I mention they were knitting together? Fawk! Who does that? Someone is is trying to ingratiate herself in with my mom, I suppose.

I ride back with Karen to the train station at 6PM. I miss another back doctor appointment - its been four weeks! I am stiffer than a 13-year-old in a whore house!

Suzuki Tokunori (a local farmer and head of the Ohtawara International Friendship Association) calls and invites myself, John and Mom... and the new people, like Karen, to travel with him to the historical city of Nikko on Friday. That should be fun.

While I have been to Nikko some 10 times now... it would be nice to have a tour guide who spoke English to teach me everything about this wonderful old town. Suzuki-san is a really fun and nice man.

However... at this point in time, I am really sick after contracting dysentery from my recent trip to Thailand. I haven't been able to keep anything in me for a couple of days now.

Somewhere my life is in the crapper,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by The Beatles. I like listening to The Beatles whenever I'm down or confused... like today. It's like they have a song about every single one of my emotions. I could easily use a Beatles song for every single day of my life here in Japan. JOJO.

Angry White Boy Polka

It's Thursday, August 15, 1991 and I'm living (barely) in Ohtawara-shi (City of Ohtawara), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

I am sick.. with dysentery... courtesy of some ice in my drink up in Burma (Myanmar), a few days ago when I was there and in Thailand with my mom.

My mom, who has accompanied me back to Japan, is now off visiting Sendai (yes, one of the areas devastated by the March 11, 2011 tsunami) with my friend John (also visiting from Toronto). Great. Leave me alone.

I find time off the toilet to do some laundry and some more shopping for food. I also head out to the local video store and rent a couple of movies before lazing around my apartment.

When I head downstairs from my third-floor apartment in the centre of town, the old man who runs the convenience/sake shop directly below me on the ground floor offers me a beer.

What the heck? I'm here in Japan to internationalize... and it's free beer.

His 30-year-old son starts pouring out glasses of beer for all three of us. Man! I haven't eaten anything all day thanks to the dysentery, as I'm afraid I might poop my pants... but still... free beer.

We talk slowly, because the old man speaks zero English, and his son, just a little. My Japanese language skills are only slightly better than my French, which as a Canadian for whom French is one of our two official languages, is pitifully bad.

Still, I find out the old man was a sergeant in the Philippines during WWII. He was part of the occupancy forces. He also said that after that, he was a POW (Prisoner of War) for six months after being captured on some tiny island nearby when the Allies came to liberate the Philippines.

He said he was actually glad to be captured, because constant Allied bombing had left him and his platoon without proper clothing or much food.

Then the old man goes and gets some sake (rice wine) and begins pouring out boxes (?) for us. I guess they didn't want to spend good money on sake in a bottle.

Still, I don't have the type of pallet to know good sake from bad sake... if I don't go blind, it was good. We also eat a lot of chips. And... best of all... I don't feel like going to the toilet!

At about 9:30PM (4 hours after we started drinking) John and my mom intrude. I guess they heard me laughing and came around to see what was the matter.

I'm having a great time with my Japanese friends! I'm laughing my head off and now my mom and John want to know why. I want to say it's because I'm finally by myself.

The old man fed these two something that he called sake residue, as well as some cognac - and both get drunk quickly.

My mom then makes some snide comment about me not being able to speak Japanese! John quickly intercepts me and tells me not to be mad at her, because it was him who told her that. I appreciate his honesty, but you bastard! Just leave me alone!

Finally, by 10:30PM after the store was supposed to close, the gaijin (foreigner) contingent from Canada leave.

I'm glad they got to see me having fun with the locals... but when we go upstairs, I explode at my mom... I swear my head off and tell her to mind her own business... blah-blah-blah, Ginger... of course, she's passed out unconscious on the bed... too much booze, I guess.

Lucky I guess.... for both of us.

I don't hate my mom... I just need some space... and I finally got some, and then had it cramped up again.

Anyhow... I'll have to find out more about the old man's days in the army soon.

Oh yeah... I can't find the key to unlock my bicycle, so all of my travels have been on foot.

Somewhere alone in a crowded room,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Weird Al Yankovic: ACCORDION
The image above is from Gary Larson's Far Side comic strip... and is one of all-time favourites!

Johnny Carson Theme Song

With apologies to novelist Charles Dickens... this blog is about Great Expectations. 

It's Tuesday, August 13, 1991. After meeting my mom in Thailand (she flew in from Toronto), and spending a few days there, we are now back in my town! Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan.

Despite the raunchy sexual time I had with a pair of Thai women, it's still good to be back home - and that's what Ohtawara is to me. Home.

My friend John - also from Toronto - has spent the past week here in Japan by himself or hanging out with his friend Barb, who is apparently living in Tokyo. I have no idea who she is or what she does. The brief meeting I had with her left no indelible mark on my life except to think that she's a twit. I think I meant to put an 'a' in there, instead of an "'i".

John is apparently out seeing the country, and he left no food or drink in my place (except for a couple of eggs and tea) before departing.

So the first thing I have to do today is go shopping for food at Iseya. With my mom, Lynda, as she wants to see what a Japanese supermarket looks like. I hate to say, folks... but it looks like any other supermarket in the world. Brightly lit, lot of aisles and food placed in places you'd never expect to find it.

My temper with John is growing to legendary proportions. I guess it's because he's come here with expectations for me. He expects me to be fluent in Japanese; to be able to know where every place is in Japan; how to get to every place in Japan; and even know my way around Tokyo. Remember... this is 1991. No World Wide Web yet. Heck... I've only been down to Tokyo maybe five or six times myself.

He expects me to do this, do that... and I hate it when people expect me to do anything... that's when I rebel.

Before we go out, I do laundry for my mom - which I think blows her mind, as she has never seen me do laundry... as I always expected her to do it for me back before I left home.

Still, despite it being MY place... my mom insists on cooking dinner for us. Old habits, I suppose... but I appreciate a touch of home cooking.

Just as she finishes cooking the meal and we are about to sit down to eat - Here's Johnny at my doorstep.

I am not amused. My mood is rather sharp the rest of the evening.

Great expectations. I hate'em.

Somewhere expecting a headache,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is the theme song to The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson. The show's instrumental theme is a rearrangement of the the Paul Anka song called 'Toot Sweet'.