Nuggets of Gold!

IT'S A BIRD, IT'S A PLANE, IT'S THAT GUY FROM THE OFFICE

Didja ever have one of those days when you're sitting in a traffic standstill cursing your luck, only to find out later that all the while someone you work with was saving a stranger from the burning car that was causing the backup?

http://www.estripes.com/article.asp?section=104&article=27396

Kinda makes you feel bad for complaining about the traffic.

BLUE

Oh my God, no. No no no no no. No. No no. No.

I just learned that the Jayhawks are done. "Dead," as Gary Louris termed it.

Dead. Jayhawks. Done. No.

No.

TEMPTED BY THE FRUIT OF ANOTHER

So today I strayed a little. I tucked Ruthie, my overweight and cantankerous first-generation iPod, as deep into my bag as I could get her and, hopefully without her seeing, checked out the Napster Web site. All because I saw an ad last night that said for $15 a month -- the price of one CD, mind you -- you can download AS MANY SONGS AS YOU WANT from Napster. Thinking that looked like a pretty swell deal, but thinking maybe Napster has a crappy selection I wouldn't want more than 15 songs a month from anyway, I went to their site's search engine to see what they have.

I've spent the last 15 minutes trying to stump it, and, dammit, it's hard to stump! They have BR549, they have Old Crow Medicine Show, they have Rick Astley, for pete's sake (not that I care, mind you, but it was interesting to type in for the sake of stumping). They have Railroad Earth, they have Mindy Smith, they have Ol' Dirty Bastard (may he rest in peace).

They also have a less-exclusive mind-set than those bastards (those wonderful, wonderful bastards) at Apple. Their software works with LOTS of MP3 players -- except iPod, which they say they want to support, but Apple won't allow it.

Now, I love my iPod, but as she advances in years (and declines in battery life and functionality), I realize one day Ruthie will have to be replaced. And two months ago I would have said I'd definitely replace her with another iPod. But now I am not so sure.

Am I wrong to consider my options? Would it be better to remain faithful to my iPod and not eyeball other MP3 players when she's not looking?

Signed,
Tempted in Tokyo

KILL YOUR TELEVISION

Living overseas, it doesn't take too long to catch on to how easy it is for non-Americans can form distorted (?) opinions of Americans. TV, of course, is the main medium through which many foreigners see Americans, and man, that is NOT good.

My TV situation is a little different from that of most people living in Japan. I get Japanese networks;  the American Forces Network's channels, which cobble together American programs from various U.S. networks; and taped feeds from some American cable channels, among them VH1, MTV, Cartoon Network and Comedy Central -- all of them about two weeks behind what you see in the States. Anyway, my viewing is not altogether representative of what an average Japanese TV viewer might chance upon, but still, it is reasonable to assume that some Japanese cable companies might carry some of these shows.

Yesterday I did some channel flipping, and watched a few minutes of the new MTV show "My Super Sweet 16," which I think is basically a camera following amazingly spoiled rich kids planning their Sweet 16 parties, which are approximately akin to weddings in terms of expense and hoopla. Anyway, these kids buy Prada dresses for their parties (some of which involve "costume changes"), pass out engraved invitations at school, and cry and cry when daddy doesn't buy them a Jaguar for their birthday as promised. After about five minutes of watching this, I got disgusted enough to continue flipping. Next I get to TLC, which is airing a show called "Plastic Surgery Beverly Hills." Yes, I know what you're thinking. I should have known better. You're right! After This episode featured two Michael-Jackson-looking female office workers from the featured plastic surgery office talk about their upcoming surgeries (job perk: they get one surgery a  year!), with the side plot of one of the women's daughters, age 18, wanting a boob job, something her mom has had multiple times but is opposed to for her daughter. The daughter, who looks like a Barbie doll left too long in the oven, brings up the good point of her mother not being consistent in her opposition to surgery -- especially since the mom made her get a nose job when she was 13! I don't know what ended up happening, as I turned the TV off immediately thereafter.

I caught myself shaking my head and thinking: "Man, Americans suck." I caught myself, and had a talk with myself, saying, "Now, self, you know full well that the majority of Americans aren't like these people you're seeing on these shows. Americans, in fact, do not suck, and it is wrong to base your impression of them or any people on dumbass TV shows."

But I couldn't help but wonder: If I didn't have the context of being an American who hasn't had a boob job and who probably had her "Sweet 16" party at Dairy Queen or something and having met tons of Americans in the same boat, wouldn't it be easy for me to form the impression that all Americans are like that? I ain't saying it's right, I'm just saying it's so.

But of course, TV shows about Americans driving to work or getting their teeth cleaned aren't so interesting to watch.

Unrelated: I just finished reading Asne Seierstad's "The Bookseller of Kabul," which I highly recommend. It's a pretty depressing book, but a good read and a fantastic antidote to watching too much "My Super Sweet 16."

FREE SPEECH, WITH A COST

Hey Durham (N.C.) Herald-Sun: Value free speech much? Scary. I can't believe this happened at a newspaper, of all places.

(For those of you who want to read that article but don't already have a login to the Washington Post Web site and don't wish to make one, go here.)

NECK FACE!

Japan is a crazy, wonderful place. I have gathered much evidence to support that in the last few days.

Exhibit A: Odaiba.
Odaiba is a fairly new (circa 1999, I think) area of Tokyo that is just crazy. It has lots of shops, an indoor amusement part, a taco stand (crazy!), a ferris wheel that was at one time (but perhaps not anymore) the world's tallest, and a vending machine of cars.

We visited Odaiba on Sunday, with no real agenda or list of things to see -- we just wanted to see whatever, which I'm finding is a good way to approach neighborhoods in Japan. The first thing we noticed getting off the train was a place called Joypolis. Would you be able to pass up the Joypolis? I didn't think so. We investigated and found it was an indoor amusement park, complete with roller coaster and other rides, video games, and -- of course! -- instant photo booths. The rides we only gawked at, because they looked complicated and we figured we might get decapitated if we attempted to ride without understanding the verbal instructions on how not to get decapitated. We did, however, make our first attempt at a Japanese instant photo booth (at least 200 per square mile are apparently a legal requirement in Tokyo), non-English instructions be damned! We successfully got photos of ourselves in a Mushiking setting. Mushiking being THE KING OF BEETLE. Ask Joe and Nick, they know.  This photo, I trust, will be posted on our photo gallery soon. Also at Joypolis, we played much air hockey and totally kicked ass on an arcade game that requires you to beat taiko drums to the beat dictated by some dancing macaronis on the screen. Pictures of that also coming. But I think even without photographic evidence I can safely say that Geoffrey and I are the king and queen of the taiko drum game, no question.

The ferris wheel was a breeze. I wasn't scared, ask anyone. I didn't even care that at the top I could see the moon orbiting the earth below us. Whatever. What extremely small amount of nervousness I might have had (not that I did) was eased by the fact that the seats of the little ferris wheel cars were heated. Yes, heated. Much like toilet seats here (best invention ever), the plastic benches in the cars were toasty warm on your bum. This is something that should be brought to America immediately. Right now.

Next to the ferris wheel was a building with a permanent car showcase, hosted by Toyota. We fell in love with a purple Vitz, which also should be brought to America immediately. Ridiculously small but sturdy, it was lousy with handy storage compartments and neato gadgets. Also, it was bright purple. Maybe even magenta. Also at the car showcase was a many, many stories-high vending machine o' cars. You simply punched a button next to a menu of cars, and the machine would go get the car (not a model, but an actual car) and zip it to the platform in front of you so you could get a close look at it. Geoffrey and I drooled on the carpet a little, we were so slack-jawed amazed at this. Photos of this, too, also will be posted soon.

Exhibit B: Graffiti
Today on the way in to work the expressway was all trafficky, so I bailed out early and took an alternate route through Tokyo, past Harajuku (ref: any Gwen Stefani song on her new album, which is so bad it could be illegal) and down Omotesando Street, which is the fancypants shopping street. Anyway, I was stuck in more traffic on Omotesando Street, just next to Louis Vuitton but not quite to Prada, when I noticed the Best Graffiti Ever on a pedestrian bridge over the road. In perfectly straight letters, it read:

NECK FACE!

Good day.

UPDATE: Oh, boo. It has been brought to my attention that seeing graffiti that says "NECK FACE!" is not very special at all, and it is not to bear witness to a marvelous act of wackiness or perhaps a brilliant secret message. It's just some fucking guy. Sigh.

FOUR IS A FIRST

Holy crap! I just sneezed four times in a row. FOUR TIMES. This is amazing because I have never in my life (that I can remember) sneezed four times. NEVER. And I pay attention, because someone told me when I was very little that you die if you sneeze six times in a row, you die. So I always keep count. I always sneeze in twos. Sometimes ones, mostly twos, maybe twice a year three times in a row. But never have I exceeded three. Not ever.

How do I feel about it? Pretty woozy. And my nose hurts. I was not designed to sneeze four times. Geoffrey, now he can and regularly does sneeze like 28 times in a row. And miraculously, he is not dead, even though he routinely sneezes six times (often more, the fate tempter!). But me, I get the job done. With ruthless efficiency.

Man, the inside of my nose totally hurts. I think I might have ruptured something.

Let the record show: At approximately 2:20 a.m. on the morning of Wednesday, Feb. 2, 2005, I sneezed four times. Oh man, it's Groundhog Day! I'm sure this all has some significance. I'll let you know if I figure out what it is.