The relentlessness which may be felt

The restlessness which may be felt when one hasn't written in over a month is not to be underestimated. It's as if I were scrawling out my thoughts on papyrus and tossing them into a river to dissolve, whilst a few special pieces catch rocks and somehow escape a fate of dissipating in an ever-changing body of water. What few scraps of papyrus I have retained I will share with you here. All I can say is it feels good to be blogging again, equitable to greeting an old friend or busting out the guitar after a week's hiatus.

This morning I escorted my mother to the Ikebukuro Metropolitan hotel, where she took the "Airport Limousine," an express bus that runs to Japan's main international hub: Narita airport. It wasn't a teary-eyed good-bye, but one that felt just right. Me and my Mother got to spend plenty of quality time together and she had the invaluable opportunity of experience a culture more foreign than anything she had ever known before in her lifetime. She was however missing her daughters and her cats and her normal Albany New York lifestyle as any sane person (a.k.a. anyone who is not me) would, and was ready to make the trek back home. I as well was ready to taste the sweet lightness and freedom I have become so addicted to, the stuff that living single in a big city is made of. And coming home to my apartment tonight to greet no one for the first time in over 2 weeks was a welcome change of pace! (love ya Mom)

Our vacation, which I will briefly describe in typical Ben Belcher pell-mell fashion, took place over Golden Week, which is for the uninformed a week of consecutive holidays in Japan where more people travel than any other time of year save New Years or O-bon (the August Summer holidays). Although in reality my mother had a few buffer days where I was working and I set her up with some tours, or some very VERY kind former students or co-workers of mine who saw to taking care of her. One such lady who goes by the name of Junko (once referred to in this blog in fact as my "Japanese Mom") took extra special care of my Mother when I was off doing my new kindergarten teaching gigs in the mornings - which just had to fall at such inopportune a time as when my Mom was in town - mashed together with my regular afternoon/evening job. Junko in fact took my Mother to a Spa, the movies and several restaurants in the few visits they had together, and treated her to the point that my Mother was genuinely a bit freaked out, not being used to such elegant treatment. However Junko's nonchalant response of "it's my pleasure" or "be my guest" may be a rather insightful peak into understanding Japanese culture for all you armchair travelers out there. This much-cherished Japanese custom of "gift-giving" - in the sense of treating one's guest to a "service" of some kind, (which sounds like a bit of broken English or a naughty innuendo) is a good way to wrap our Western minds around such practices. To Junko the privilege of showing around and entertaining "my Mother the American tourist" was just that, and a fun opportunity for her to use her English skills and make a new friend.

Was I talking about the vacation? Side-track, side-track. So that was a prime example of how some of my friends helped me in taking care of my Mom when I had work. There were a few others, most notably my wonderful Japanese teachers Nagasawa- and Yazawa-sensei (the latter of the town I incidentally just got hooked in Ben Folds...) Outside of that, here's a list that runs down how we slammed a full-on cross-country extravaganza into a period of 7 days:

- Thursday: woke up at 4:30am, took bullet train from Tokyo to Hiroshima, roughly 5-6 hours of train travel. Checked in, saw peace museum and beautiful zen gardens. Got "accosted" (or at least preached at) by two Jehova's Witnesses posing as little old ladies. Ate okonomiyaki. Took the wrong tram cars as a result of lack of rest on my part. Enjoyed a good nights sleep (my first in a few days after far too much work)

-Friday: woke up at 7 or so. Set out for Miyajima, a beautiful island off the coast near Hiroshima. Lost money in a UFO catcher (claw machine), but I almost had that damned giant Chopper doll!!! Got stuck taking the ferry with over 200 Junior High snots on a field trip. Saw lots of deer on the island. Saw the famous floating Torii gates. Saw the world's biggest spatula. Ate fried oysters. Went up a cable car to the top of Mt. Misen. Enjoyed it all.

Saturday: woke up early again. Went to Kobe, maybe a 1 1/2 hour trip if I recall correctly. We were rather tired but managed to drop off our bags at the hotel and make it (after some argument with a grumpy taxi driver) to the Sky Buffet, a nice restaurant on the 24th floor of a downtown building. The view of the surrounding Kobe area was quite stunning, and the food was decent too. There we met Akira, a former friend of mine from University at Albany NY who is attending grad school in Osaka. We discussed the blessings and curses of living abroad and having a broader perspective of the world; the downside being you don't really fit in in your home country or the new one. If truer words were ever spoken. Kobe tour was our next stop, it was a dinky thing with annoying elevators but worth the trip. Also went to the maritime museum, which I think the Mom had more interest in than me. Still a fun jaunt.

Sunday: in need of taking it easy for a bit, we left our hotel and shot out to Nagoya where my good friend Hiro (bassist of Condemned and Disconformity, both righteous death metal bands) picked us up from the station and drove us out to his family's home in the countryside. Hiro is a Buddhist monk, practicing under his father at a temple connected to their house. Needless to say the house was beautiful, as was the whole area which was as far off the beaten path as we managed to get all vacation (although where I come from, "the countryside" does not include urban areas a mere 10 minute drive away). The whole family - Hiro's grandmother, father, mother and himself - all treated us with the utmost courtesy and respect. Me and my mother both got the break in action we needed, she read quite a bit and I hung out with Hiro. We had a jam session and he showed me how he could play the entire Final Fantasy theme on his bass (among other things of course). Later we ate his grandmother's homemade miso soup, the best I've ever had, and deliciously fresh takenoko (bamboo shoots) plucked from the garden by Hiro's father. It was of course a fun chance for me to speak exercise my Japanese as well, since everyone in Tokyo seems to want to speak English. On top of everything we received copious presents including a yukata (summer robe) for my mother! As she said: "I felt like we were being treated like royalty." Such is the way of Japanese hospitality, and the especially sweet family that I will most definitely visit again should I find myself in the Nagoya area.

Monday: Visited the Nagoya World Expo Fairgrounds, a place beautifully laid out in the style of an amusement park with no rides (although one could see a Ferris wheel in the distance). There were however indoor ice-skating rinks and a water-park. Countless families went picnicking out in the open fields or just strolled around the area in the way we did, soaking in the beauty. Frankly, I would never want to be there during the actual World Expo for the same reason I ain't going to Shanghai this year: I'm not so fond of crowds. I ate ice cream and drank a beer at 11am. If it isn't obvious already these two days were the break in a flurry of vacation activities, and probably the most relaxing portions. We eventually left, stopped at a kaitenzushi (rotating sushi)
restaurant for lunch, where we tried such Japanese delights as seafood and mayo sushi, hamburger sushi and fresh octopus (among many other items more tasteful to my palate). Downtown Nagoya felt like Tokyo with 8-lane traffic, it seems I really underestimated the mass of this city! Although I've heard that, unlike Tokyo, the nightlife dies around midnight every night there.

Off to Nara! This involved a transfer at the ever-busy Kyoto station, and by the time we got to the hotel we were exhausted. It was however a first-class hotel, and I can't remember the last time I was even in one of those things. Mints on the bed, classy overpriced restaurants, that kind of place. We decided in light of our tiredness to do the only right thing two Americans in a hotel room can do: order pizza! (My mother had been wanting to try the seafood pizza as well) This proved to be a bit of an ordeal, and after about 5 or 6 tries, including one to pizza hut where I promptly hung up when they answered (since I wanted pizza and not microwaved fast food), and also restaurants that looked great but didn't deliver, we found one that worked. It seems that pizza delivery to hotels is relatively uncommon in this country, or the phone-guy was a total n00b. At any rate I managed to convince him to deliver our pies to the untrodden, mysterious ground of... the giant hotel next to the train station. And when it came it was delicious. Incidentally, I watched the movie "Fear of a Black Hat" for the first time. I love cheesy spoofs like that.

Tuesday: Spent the day in Nara. I'll leave this one to your imaginations, but to summarize the place is beautiful and an absolute must-visit (over Kyoto in my humble opinion) if you ever come to the country. The layout, the parks, the famous giant Buddha, the temperamental deer, it just creates an atmosphere. I imagine Nara would be a fantastic place to grow up or live. I felt a kind of liberation being there, despite the crowds (including a 45-minute queue for a special exhibit we happily skipped)

Wednesday: I realized the night before that since Wednesday night we would be returning to Tokyo, a good shot at Kyoto as I had originally planned was infeasible. In lieu of that however I decided we do the next best thing: go to Fushimi Inari Taisha (Great Shrine) on the Southern outskirts of Tokyo. Avoid the crowds and the urban madness of the final day of Goldenweek and get to see on of Kyoto's best and most overlooked sites? Win-win in my book. My mother dubbed the place "the land of a thousand gates," and with good reason: orange to red and every imaginable tint in between-colored gates exist in what must be the 10s of thousands in that place. It's another see to believe kind of Japan-spot, and google the name for some interesting pictures. It does get a bit redundant with all the fox-statues and the gates after a while, but the stone-steps and the great view make it a fun climb (Well, not as fun in the climbing department for my Mom, but she pulled it off!!) Afterward we had some cold soba to stave our hunger on a hot summer-like day, and happened to stumble upon a matsuri (festival) by sheer chance. (The crowds and the horse's butt we saw sort of gave it away) The name escapes me, but we got to see a dozen or so Japanese men drunk and in full matsuri-garb hoist the giant arc-like object on two long wooden poles up in the air. Although by this point I've seen a handful of festivals so they've lost a smidge of the novelty, it was of course the first time for my Mom.

Mom: "What are they saying?"
Me: "Umm, well, the literal equivalent of: 'Good! Go! Go! Go! Push! Good! UGH!'"

A few hours and a crowded bullet-train later (I barely managed to get my butt in one of the non-reserved seats! The dozens left standing in the aisles for two hours back to Tokyo weren't so lucky) we were back "home." Home being my little walk-in closet.

And that's how I spent my Golden Week vacation. So here's to you Mom, as you are in a plane most likely somewhere above Alaska or the Canadian tundratic™ (I made this word up) wastelands whilst I write this. It was a fun time, and I have this strange feeling you'll be back one of these days, assuming I'm still here.

That felt long! I'm putting off shoving my over-sized book collection into boxes for the move. Got to get back to it. I also have a fun-tastic 13 consecutive days of work to look forward too! Although F.I.D. will have a sweet recording session in the middle of all that. Life is still pretty good, but busy. Next month will cool down a bit, I hope.

"There's not much to knowing cuz things change too quickly these days" - Small Brown Bike


P.S. I had this floating for a week waiting for a proofread. I just proofread half of it and said screw it. No one's paying me anyways!! =)

An unfortunate (but not altogether unexpected) hiatus

hiatus |hīˈātəs|
noun ( pl. -tuses ) [usu. in sing. ]
a pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process
ORIGIN mid 16th cent. (originally denoting a physical gap or opening): from Latin, literally ‘gaping,’ from hiare ‘gape.’

It's much to my dismay that I write this post, but as the Japanese like to say: it cannot be helped! しょうがない (shouganai). Due to an impending visit from my Mother - her first time in Japan! - and all the other aforementioned extra work I'm in the middle of: 6 day work-weeks, a weekly morning kindergarten shift topped with a normal until 10pm shift and some business overtime classes, not to mention how I tend to use my free time studying Japanese as much as is reasonably possibly, I can't expect myself to keep up the blog this month. Better to out and say then leave the loyal devotees refreshing the page every couple of days.

There is reprieve for me however; a few days before the week of Spring holidays, properly designated "Golden Week," my Mother will arrive on this fair island. Which means traveling once again across the landscape of Japan, to Hiroshima, Kyoto, Nagoya and beyond. It'll be my first time taking the world-famous bullet train as well, which should be interesting! (I did the sketchy but cheap nightbus last time..... NEVER AGAIN)

I will make quick mention however that I've also decided, after a year and a half in my current location of sunny Tobu-Nerima (a suburb on the north-western end of Tokyo, near adjoining Saitama prefecture), I will most likely be moving within the next 2 months. For the sake of being closer to my work, a bigger apartment, my own private bathroom, and a change of pace. That may also clog things up a bit on the blog-front. I am however quite excited at the prospect of it all! If only I wasn't such a packrat, and didn't insist on keeping all these books, the dresser, the kitchenette, the fairly new acoustic guitar, the 4-foot disco lamp, the persian rugs, the gold-seated toilet... well it would be a much easier task. However I'm possibly going to get a friend to rent a car and help me move, which should help ease the financial burden and also provide fodder for an interesting future blog post.

Another year contract has been signed with my current employer, who I am happy to say I'm quite happy with. It's not every man who can say he has any level of satisfaction with his job. Recently I've pondered getting a Masters in TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language) and possibly going career with it. It's not so limiting as it might seem; not only would I be more apt to get higher paying (not to mention more dignified) jobs in various other countries, Asian or European, but perhaps I could use it as a vehicle for experience. That is how I have seen my current position for quite some time, and I'm sure many others do as well. A vehicle for experience. You get paid to do a job which can be (although it certainly isn't always) fun and rewarding, and get to live in a foreign country and rack massive personal experience points.

Case in point: yesterday I went to Asakusa for the first time. An amazing place with tons of "the oldest _____ in Japan" going on - including the oldest chronologically numbered block,* something like １丁目１番１, which if you can't see it on your computer or read Japanese basically says: "1 city block of 1 numbered 1." Anyhow, the point is this kind of job drives the experience train. There's no predictable end to the need of English education in foreign countries. In a way, I could see the world and get paid to do so. Hmm hmmm hmmm. I'd also like to imagine racking up massive language fluency as well, but realistically I don't think I'll ever consider anything besides Japanese my second language, although I'd like to attain passable Mandarin Chinese. Really I would. "One language at a time Ben!" Another teacher once told me...

*all blocks in Japan are sorted and number chronologically or clockwise around a center block, and there are no street names save for major roads. Sound confusing? It is. Read more here.

This has really all been a cleverly-disguised ploy to put off an eagerly awaiting virtual flashcard deck of 100 cards. Curse this mortal coil and faulty memory of mine!!

Thanks for reading. Until May folks!!

-Ben

P.S. Popular Japanese blog Hello Damage has posted some pictures from the latest F.I.D. show, in case you want to see cute Japanese ladies, dudes in messed up costumes (NSFW - NOT SAFE FOR WORK) or the funny faces I make when I play guitar. Thanks Steve!

Conversations with people in Japan (and the walls)

Many occur, few are documented.

-At the gym one of the older gym rats informs me about a salt-related penalty in NYC (he knows I'm from NY, hence I am obviously responsible in part for this horrendous act). Something along the lines of "without salt, what the hell can you even cook?" I agreed it was crazy and told him I would research it myself. When I did, and discovered that Assemblyman Felix Ortiz had actually proposed the idea of fining restaurants for using salt in the state of NY, I agreed that next time I saw gym rat that it was indeed absurd and a travesty that Mr. Ortiz suggested such a silly notion, but hey, he was the guy who advised banning cell phone usage while driving too, so what can you expect (in my much less verbose or articulate Japanese of course). The conversation ended with:

"This Ortiz guy, is he your Dad or something?"

"No."

-When people stare at me on the train, in the street, etc. (as happens daily), I often respond with a smile. Or a funny face. Or a wtf-eyebrow raise. Or just a return stare. But sometimes I want to grab them, shake them and scream "I'm the same as you underneath, my skin is just a different color and my build is slightly larger and I much more vaguely resemble Bruce Willis, that's all!!!!"

-This isn't so much a conversation as a list of questions and comments I've received countless times. My reaction varies between cute and annoying, in that special love/hate manner that only Japan can bring out in me:

"Those are HUUUUUUUUGE" (in response to my shoe size, 13 or 14 in America, 30 centimeters in Japan). I often respond by telling them I have trouble finding shoes back in the States too.

"How about Japanese food?" Often entangled with or followed up by: "Do you like Natto?" (Natto is a disgusting slop of fermented soybeans that smells like dirty socks and tastes like cat food gone bad, so of course I should be into it but just can't bring myself to like it)

"Why are you skinhead?" (In Japan, people think shaved head is skinhead in English due to their bastardized Japanese English. I've explained the difference countless times but I'm starting to give up on this one....it's because I'm prematurely bald, by the way)

-This one is slightly more serious. I met an older fellow at the gym, past 60, who is always quite nice to me. He smiles and bows and doesn't look afraid of me like I'm going to pillage his family and leave them for dead, so that's always a brownie-point earner in my book. I almost always keep to myself there (same as back in the States) but have a few people I say "hi" to, the aforementioned Ejiro-san being one of them. (Another retired fellow I call Mr. Baseball is among the lot, we've never had a conversation over 2 sentences or that didn't involve baseball or his drinking too much the night before) He would for whatever reason give me candy at random times in the locker room... wow does that sentence sounds terrible, but really it was a gesture of good will. So I allowed him to treat me to lunch one day (the who-pays wasn't my choice; in Japan there is no getting out of a treated meal, and that's a fact). The old guy doesn't speak a lick of English and I like that - Old men are hard to understand and it's something I need more practice with in general. Plus, he seemed like a nice guy who probably had a lot of time on his hands since retiring, so I figured he'd be tickled pink at the opportunity. Turns out he was a gym teacher who also taught the mentally disabled. He coached marathon running for some time, and even worked at camps in Mexico and L.A. training potential Olympics contestants. Apparently the locations were chosen for their air quality, dry air somehow being better for training. At any rate, sadly none of them made the final cut, but I still considered that to be an excellent achievement, having trained athletes in a foreign country. He couldn't understand my passion for music, and I likewise couldn't appreciate his passion for running, but we understood each other well enough.... I'll be honest, at times I couldn't catch a whit of what he was talking about. But for the most part it was good, and I didn't once whip out my phone dictionary for fear of losing face (and looking extremely rude). The dumplings and fried rice were also excellent.

There are more. There must be more. But I'm exhausted, so you'll get no more. This is what happens when real life is really busy. Vacation plans, overtime work, figuring out the new fiscal year, I could list enough excuses to color every stone in the sea with virtual ink, but I'll spare you all and myself of the unnecessary. The blog must suffer a bit. Good night readers.

"I want to take you far from the tethers of this scene, we'll cut our bodies free, start a brand new colony, where everything will change, we'll give ourselves new names" - Postal Service

"It's a battle on my own/machinery you can't control/people always complain about their worst/troubles you wish were your own/as the seasons roll on by you realize you're getting older/it's a battle on my own what have I learned?" - Ignite

It will be mine

I know I've thought countless times in the last week "hey I could blog about this." Sadly my flux of ideas doesn't correlate to the time I leisurely sit in front of my computer typing up entries, so I'm sure much has been lost. I am only human after all.

As for how I think and do things, I've been schooled on my own high-rises and gutter-balls, and it boils down to a simple idea: I'm creative and great at coming up with ideas, but I'm not so great at organizing and executing them. This isn't to say I'm incapable of the latter, but it doesn't flow as freely as the former does by any stretch of the imagination. It comes out in almost everything I do: my erratic yet dutiful studies; my haphazard but relatively effective speaking style in Japanese; my teaching method of the same cloth; my admittedly random, somewhat sloppy but unique(?) take on playing guitar, and so on. Even here, where I post on an unpredictable timetable and a kind of "when the spirit moves me" mentality. And my posts are equally as disorganized as every fiber of my being, as they reflect my thoughts. It's the kind of thing that you don't realize about yourself until somewhat steps up and calls you out on your eccentricities, because you are always too close to yourself to have any perspective or know better. It takes others for me to step back a minute and realize what I'm doing, and I'm glad they do - I'm still trying to figure me out.

At any rate, I blame too much creative learning and my lackluster abilities in Math- and Science-related curriculum. Curse you post-hippy, free-thinking education system!!!

I bought a new guitar today! But why the sudden urge? Another backwards explanation is in order: the weather was so beautiful yesterday (Sunday) that even a nasty hangover couldn't keep me down. In fact in a somewhat sloth-like state, the whole outside world teeming with new life, I swam in sunbeams that semed a surreal paradise which time had forgotten. I looked at the stone bench on the gorgeous verdure-covered walking path near my apartment and thought how I'd love to sit in the shade and play an acoustic guitar in this perfect weather. (before summer comes and turns this whole damned city into a sticky and miserable jungle) I have an acoustic guitar back in the states, but due to obvious spacial constraints refrained from bringing it with me on any journey nigh on 7000 miles. It's a decent guitar, but it's slightly warped from slight misuse and always sounds slightly out of tune anywhere above the 7th fret. So I left the old girl behind, and the mild longing for a new one has been itching at my gut for quite some time. Itch relieved. I'll post a picture? Naa, I'll never get around to it, who am I kidding. It's a 30-year old Humming Bird in amazing condition with only a few scratches that I got in Ochanomizu from a used guitar store for under 20,000 yen (around $200). What a steal!!!! I'd heard that there were amazing finds to be made there, but holy crapoly. One look at that baby and it was like the scene with the Stratocaster in Wayne's World, minus any Stairway to Heaven. I tried only one guitar, and bought it 5 minutes later. No regrets here, my apartment is a much happier place now.

--

I wrote all of the above about 3 days ago (not going to to try and blend it seamlessly together, no point) but knew I didn't have a complete entry. Here goes le finish:

March is crawling to an end, the cherry blossoms are just starting to peak out in places, and there couldn't be a more appropriate time of year to be reading "Hokkaido Hitchhiking Blues." It's a solid travel book, and enlightening on Japan. I recommend it.

Lately I've been thinking of humanity's frightfully minor status in the universe at large, or to quote H.P. Lovecraft: "terrifying vistas of reality, and our frightful position therein." I think it's a combination of being heavy into this Moby Dick audiobook - a lot of philosophizing, sea-is-great-we-are-small kind of stuff, not to mention biblical sh*t goes down in it - and it being spring time. The world spins on and her seasons roll by and we are merely lucky to experience them by circumstance; it isn't like we help cause them, and if anything we pollute them with our humanity. Silly humans. But being one I can't really knock them- er, us so hard.

I've got a lot of real world stuff to do: Taxes, fleshing out Golden Week plans with my Mom coming to Japan, studying super hard for level N1 JLPT in December (and level n2 for kicks in July). As for the n1 test, I'm banking on surpassing a 50% score. The minimum pass is 70%, and maybe if I didn't have to work I could study enough to get that in a year, but it's doubtful. It's a huge leap in difficulty, and a pass = fluency (on paper), so it's no small task. No, my real goal is to pass this almighty personal benchmark by 2011, which would mean I've "mastered" the Japanese language in about 5 years. Then I'd be able to shift my attention to the true pandora's box (and possible money-maker), Chinese!!!

How I wish I had a better grasp of where I was going with my life sometimes. Things are good now, but they can't stay this way forever. Changes have to be made eventually, but it's a "maybe next year" scenario. Every year?? Hrrmmmmm who's got a time machine I can borrow? Some Back-to-the-Future 2 style action is in order... minus the Biff.

Concerning Golden Week, after much hotel-hunting I've managed to string it together: Two days in Hiroshima, one on the mainland and one on the gorgeous, deer-infested island of Miyajima. Followed by a day in the famous port-town of Kobe, then a visit to my metal brethren Hiro's family's home in the beautiful Aichi countryside (a.k.a. middle-of-nowhere Japan), and two days to split between Nara and Kyoto, both former capital's of Japan. back in the dizzay. Before and after that me and my Mom will be doing stuff around Tokyo too, although it's really hard to decide what to the put time into exactly. Got to hit the major stuff anyway, although I secretly long to emulate Mr. Ferguson's aforementioned travel book, purposefully skipping all big cities and seeing more of the real, quaint, reflections-of-the-old-world Japan.

At times I feel like living in Tokyo is psuedo- neo-Japan (which it is). I'm not saying I want tabi (split-toe) sandals and samurai's impaling themselves in the name of honor, just more ricefields and less people who aspire to conquer the world via computer chips, or who want to speak English because it's a business language. Gah. English is such a beautiful, artistic, arbitrary language that to learn it simply for business purposes (without scraping the surface, feeling it or looking into the how and whys, laughing at the gross inconsistencies or punny possibilities) is sadly missing the point in my opinion. Although I would have to say the same for Japanese.... and probably most languages now that I think about it, if I had any right to say that or anything at all about them.

Ramblings. If you want funny pictures of stuff with more wit and less personal drivel, check out my buddy Steve's semi-famous Tokyo Damage blog on the right side of your screen. Good stuff, and he's a solid dude as well with good taste in music.

F.I.D. shows coming THIS SUMMER IN TOKYO! The new jams are off the hook yo. We have a song about "Babies in China, Metaphysics and Men on the Moon." And one called "Mixed Fries."

Until I ramble again, cyberspacians.

"Remember when you said that things would never change / You liar / Because these days things in my life, they don't stay the same / You changer" - Small Brown Bike

March Madness

Before the fiscal year begins in April, chaos reigns over Japan. Deadlines loom something odious, entrance exams are finished, graded and returned to the delight or dismay of parents, and everything is a crush, a rush, a push to get through and make it out alive to see the cherry blossoms bloom. It's not so bad for me as, say, the typical salaryman or office worker, but I still feel the intensity building like a tsunami wave ready to crash the stubborn shores (the whole recession thing doesn't help). I'm doing heaps of extra job training this week for some Kindergarten gigs that should start up in April, so that'll keep me not only busy but also a little less in the poor house. Because the cost of living, having some fun and taking Japanese lessons 3 times a week on my standard salary leaves me without a satisfactory amount of coins to drop in my piggy bank. (You'd think you could just bash your head against some brick-blocks with question marks on them an voila! coins! But it is not so) So I myself am going through the metamorphosis, from teaching kids maybe 6 hours a week to an unknown increase, but I look upon this change with anticipation. The only thing is now it's Monday night and I'm dreading the long couple of days ahead of me. 我慢しかないね (nothing to do but grin and bear it) I just started reading a book called "Hokkaido Hitchhiking Blues," about a Canadian man who does just that from the southern tip of Kyushu to Hokkaido. Looks to be a light and fun read for a change of pace. (I'm getting near the end of Moby Dick on audiobook, and it's great, but it is one heavy mother)

Early night here folks. Between properly responding to backed up e-mails, inputting new Japanese flashcards in my study program and hauling a giant box of oatmeal home from Costco among several other heaps of "rare" goods after my Japanese class this morning, I'm pooped. My days off don't feel enough like days off right now, I need to take one next weekend that involves nothing but being a human sloth. I can't lie though, things have been great the past few weeks, I'm merely feeling the down that had to come eventually. Can't ride a cloud forever... unless by ride a cloud you mean be high as shit on Opium, in which case you can ride a cloud for quite a long time, but will end up a sickly waste of flesh as a result. I think I'll just keep my ups and my downs, thanks.

"We're on a road to nowhere
come on inside
We're takin that road to nowhere
we'll take that ride" - The Talking Heads

"Jokingly said you’d burn all that was mine in your place
With serious written all over your face
So I sleep in my clothes just in case
I feel the flames touch my face I can make my escape with grace" - Blacklisted

Not gonna do it

I'll try really hard to get through this whole post without mentioning study or work. Here goes:

So I'm reading High Fidelity now. Almost finished. I saw the movie years ago and the main character (a vinyl obsessed, relationship obsessed owner of a failing record store recovering from a lifelong series of rejections) is pretty much the same in the book. More internal monologue and motivation and depth, but almost the same. I see a bit of my Father in him, but the High Fidelity guy is of course much more emo. What's interesting to me is that the book raises some thought-provoking questions, like this for example: "Do I listen to pop songs because I'm unhappy, or do pop songs make me unhappy?"

While I hardly listen to anything pop made after 1990, I was raised on 60s, 70s and 80s music nonetheless (again, hat tip to my Father, the only man I know to keep his own top 40 list 30+ years. I'm not being facetious either, I think it's cool!). I can relate a bit to the main character's escapist mentality: he gets in a bad situation, and runs away to listen to some music he can relate to. I've done that many times in my life, although I've been making earnest efforts to be more pro-active and not wallowing around waiting for problems to solve themselves.... even though there are cases where nothing else can be done. What's comforting about this kind of self-therapy - hearing someone else with similar woes or emotions to your own - is of course knowing that you're not alone; Feeling the connection with this person you probably never met, who has swirling thoughts in his head the same as yours. I recall someone as saying Cannibal Corpse was the first music he ever heard that "described what was going on in his mind." I say good for him! (I just can't like that band though, personally)

It's a process more exciting than it has any right to be, cherry-picking songs that fit my current mode. Listening to something depressing while I'm already depressed doesn't do much harm, it just emphasizes my mood but also soothes it in a strange, paradoxical manner... I don't think the ability to relate to others feelings, positive or negative is at all a bad thing. That being said, if I flip on, say, Neglect ("I wish I coulda been a coathanger kid/would've been the best f**king thing you ever did") or Joy Division ("Living in the ice age") I find myself smiling more at the absurdity of the lyrics than actually feeling down about life. It's empowering somehow, to know other people see the futility and desperation and insanity that surrounds our world every day... that has always made me smile. If you ask why, then you're missing the point.

I saw Cocobat the other night. I was blown away by how great they were, they must all be age 37-43 judging by the age of the band itself (almost 20 years), and still put on a powerful, energetic performance. If you can imagine a kind of post-bad brains, pre-metalcore approach to heavy music, with original melodies and unpredictable rhythmic shifts, and tons of slap bass, that is Cocobat in a nutshell. See for yourself:


cocobat live at shelter 2010-2-12 pt3

COCOBAT | MySpace Music Videos

It was kind of a strange night. I had worked until 4:30 at this new school my company opened up, and after changing my clothes I dragged me and my duffle bag down to Shibuya. After some rummaging I found an empty coin locker (hard to come by at that time in the evening, only one was left out of 200) to dump my stuff in. Finally free of that burden (bringing lunch, textbooks, and a change of clothes including sneakers to work then lugging it all on semi- to fully-packed trains can take the wind out of ya) I meandered to the venue, in no particular hurry. As usual the map from the "live house" (japanese-english for concert hall or venue) website was terrible. I later figured out it had the street names wrong - something about the Japanese and street names, eh? - but I found it sure enough. I got a burger from Freshness Burger, the best hamburger chain in Tokyo bar none (I invite anyone to suggest otherwise). I realized I hadn't eaten that kind of greasy goodness since I'd been in the states two months back. I've been eating healthy lately, lots of greens and soba noodles and less meat and all that. This made the experience that much more enjoyable. In short, it was an excellent cheeseburger.

As for the show itself, when I arrived there was a jpop/jrock act opening the gig, which to me seemed downright bizarre. I'm all for mixed bills, but I don't make spaghetti and ice cream sandwiches. I mean honestly, Cocobat is (to use great liberties in appellation) at least an "alternative rock band," whereas Edge of Spirit who played second is complete metalcore, and not the radio-friendly stuff either. Closer to NYC's Irate or Through the Discipline or some such thrash. I though they were great, and had to mosh a bit, even though it wasn't that type of crowd.

Speaking of moshing, and moshpits in general (which I used to be really into and still dabble in occasionally when I'm in the right mood), it's a subcultural phenomenon I could blog about for a while. Let's simplify and leave it at creative expressionist dancing to heavy music, and say it evolved dramatically in the last 30 years, from Slayer-esque pushpits and "slam-dancing" to karate-kicking and dance moves and all that (there is also gang-mentality B.S. that taints it, but lets ignore that for now) I like all styles really - the idea of the pit is to do what you want to the music without any rules or restrictions, so doesn't that make classification somewhat pointless?

Still, for a quick lesson on "mosh," I advise this educational video:



I'm still quite partial to the pizzamaker myself.

This is all of course a late 80s "NY"-slant on things, and there are many different scenes and styles and yadda yadda yadda. But back to the main point: what struck me at the Cocobat show was the pit was comprised 5 or 6 dudes probably as old as the band, all wearing Cocobat shirts and running a no-rules circle pit. They looked they were having a great time, and I had to join them a bit myself. It was that kind of feeling, when the music is so good you can't sit still, that reminds me why I still see bands and go to shows. It's worth it for that experience. This pit was like stepping into a time machine to me, as the style and atmosphere were so far removed from everything I grew up around, more like things I'd seen in old tapes of shows from when I was still a wee one. It was very cool.

And Cocobat is probably one of the best bands in Tokyo still playing. I rank them up there with Slight Slappers. I now have two really awesome bands here I hope to see again. Here's to finding more!

Using colors to describe sounds?

Hey all. It's been busy times, per usual. I have upped my Japanese classes to 3 sessions a week, 2 hours each, 2 of which are on my working days, and have formally began studying for the level 1 JLPT. It will be another long hard road to follow, but nothing that's worth doing is ever easily accomplished. I could complain about how difficult the grammar is or how the test is even difficult for Japanese people, but I am determined to make this happen, so it will happen. Here's the battle strategy: Study hard, take the test in December with hopes of breaking 50% (minimum pass is 70%), take it again in July of 2011 with hopes of passing. As my teachers have informed me, there are many students (especially Chinese, due to the similarities of the written language) who pass the test but can barely speak at all. So I am trying to better my Japanese all around: reading, writing, speaking and listening. If I'm not getting better at Japanese, why the heck would I live in Japan? This seems obvious to me but is of course not the case for everyone. Sometimes (or perhaps I should say often) Japanese people ask me why I bother to learn the language, since it's not the global business language that English is. My answer is two-fold: I live here and it's important to know/understand the world around you; Also there aren't comic books and novels I want to read in any other particular language at the moment.

On that note, I've been sort of/kind of seeing a girl recently, and I found out she also owns and has read all of One Piece. That's a good sign!

Aside from languages and women, I have been sketching out my upcoming Golden Week vacation (a series of holidays in late April/early May in Japan, reminiscent of Spring Break in America). My Mom is coming to Japan for the first time, so we have some sites to say. Those will include (but not be limited to) Asakusa, Ginza, Shinjuku, Shibuya, Hiroshima, Gifu, Miyajima, Nagoya, Kyoto and maybe Kobe. It's going to be dumb crowded everywhere, but luckily my bro Hiro (from the awesome band Disconformity) has offered to hole up me and my Mother for a day in the midst of the madness, so that should be a nice escape from the masses. The better, cheaper places are already booked solid for Golden Week (especially in Kyoto) so I'm scouring the internet for reservations now. It will be a fun time, however I must remember not to overbook allow plenty of time to do things and enjoy them, as it's been my habit in the past to cram too much into one small vacation.

I'm almost finished with Haruki Murakami's "Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World." I've heard from numerous (mostly Japanese) fans that this is his best work. About 20 years old, the translation is not the best - especially compared with the scholarly works of Jay Rubin on "Wind-up Bird Chronicle - but I am enjoying it quite a lot anyhow. It's very, well, weird, surreal and over the top, with intriguing characters. A.K.A. Murakami's style.

This post does not feel exciting to me. I'm falling asleep writing it! I had better ideas yesterday, I swear, but no time to write them down. Grr....

F.I.D. is doing quite well, trudging along throug the somewhat tedious but beautiful process of songwriting. Much like bloodletting.

The weather has been turning to Spring, and February isn't even over yet.

I'm going to see another 20 year old legendary but relatively unknown Japanese metal band this weekend, Cocobats (Thanks to Rennie!). I'm working all weekend, so I consider this the definite highlight. OH, how about last weekend, I can talk about that! (you can tell I put loads of planning into this)

Last weekend I went to see Slight Slappers after band practice and working out. I was really exhausted, and just coming off the end of a stupid-busy week, so I wasn't really feeling the atmosphere; but I had traveled to Waseda (famous college town) and was determined to see this most excellent powerviolence band. From the moment I walked in the venue I knew just being there pissed me off: It was a total crustfest. By crusts, I mean dirty kids who call themselves punks but really they come from well-off families and wear dirty clothes and never shower. Add to this the venue having poor ventilation, no re-entry, being smoky as shit from the beginning and everybody drunk off there ass - well, it would sound like a pretty great time to some people. Maybe even me, but not at that time, I wasn't feeling it. So I watched the first band, Baddirtyhate from Osaka. Typical, by the numbers boring crusty punk. Well executed, but absolutely nothing exciting about them. Next was another band in the same vein, NK6: Shitty, blown out guitar sound, boring and predictable song-writing. At least the singer was kind of funny and had a bit of a weird voice, but otherwise, absolutely nothing special. I literally sat in a dark corner of the venue reading my book, hating all the stupidity around me - "Aren't there ANY other musicians in theis place who see how atrocious this crap is" I thought - not wanting to be there but having paid my money and knowing that Slight Slappers would be good, I stuck around. Also there was no re-entry, and bear in mind the place was packed, stupid packed. I was lucky that they let me stow my guitar and bag from band practice in the band "room" (closet in the corner with no door) without asking any questions.

So finally it came: two guitars with *gasp* coherent, crisp and fierce guitar tones could be heard warming up. And a man with a black stocking enclosing his face emerges from the crowd, takes the mic and says: "WE ARE SLIGHT SLAPPAAAASSS" I was foolish to think I could stay in the back, it made me smile and reminded me that there are good bands out there still, all is not lost. Powerviolence is a genre typified by really fast short songs, and wild showmanship, similar to grind but less technical, I think (someone correct me if I'm wrong here). There was insane dancing on the stage, guitars thrown and rubbed against the floor, the speakers, the drums, and guess what? It was all immaculately executed. I managed to bash my knee against a speaker cab and bruise up the side of my hand real good, but you know what? Despite limping home, I felt so much better after that set. Like I was really alive, and had just witnessed something amazing in the way of intense musical performances. I should mention this band has been doing there thing since 1992. So crazy they're still around, I feel lucky to have seen them.

Another mediocre (but slightly better) punk band called Gauze played afterwards. I know people like these bands, and maybe I'm just not so into punk, but I really can't understand the appeal. The musicianship and song-writing just isn't there for me. So I watched drunk people stagedive like mad from the doorway and left after that. And that was my night in general.

Life is looking up, I gotta say. I will see many more excellent live performances this year than I did last year, no question! Altough I'm skipping Isis and Baroness next weekend. 6000 yen, REALLY?? That's a $15 show where I come from buddy, I ain't paying $65.

Hooray for Cocobats.

P.S. I feel like things are changing. Let's throw caution to the wind and haphazardly begin chapter 9. OK!!!


"The thoughts of anyone but you never crossed the landmines in your mind. You're just pretending to be naive, you can't really believe that this is about you. YouyouyouyouYOU." - Blacklisted

"I'm crazy and I'm hurt, head on my shoulders, it's going berzerk" - Black Flag

"These roads don't move, you're the one who moves" - Ben Gibbard & Jay Farrar

"No one else will break the walls that are in your mind" - Ignite

Important things that children know

which we may often forget:

-How to laugh
-How to have fun with absolutey no inhibitions
-How to express oneself
-How to be amazed by the beauty of the world around us
-How to be terrified by the immensity of the world around us
-How to play games
-How to cry
-How to make someone else happy
-How to make someone else upset (maybe we don't forget this one so much)
-How to rely unwaveringly upon someone else
-How to run with the wind
-How to wish and believe and dream

Pick one of these and try and do it today.

Perhaps it goes without saying, but this is a list of things I've noticed in the last two years of teaching here. For what it's worth, my limited experience with children has exploded exponentially since I took this job. No, I never especially wanted to be a kids teacher, but from the experience I've gained I can now deal with/entertain kids of various ages. I can even identify some of the more subtle things (you know, like when they have to pee or are about to cry). They can smell bad, be annoying, be loud and completely suck the life out of me, but they have their good points too.

And no, I've still never had a Japanese kid kancho me thank GOD - although one tried and was shut down immediately. And if you don't know what that means, google it, I'm not explaining it here.

Life is good at the moment. Taking pleasure in the ordinary stuff and the world around me. I had my first good Valentines Day in, uh, oh yea, ever. Meaning I wasn't in grade school getting fake mandatory ones from girls who never talked to me, or dealing with a bad relationship or being single. Nope, I actually had a date, and it went about as good as they can be. I even got chocolate from said datee and my band members. But in Japan as you may or may not know, girls give boys chocolate on Valentines Day, and boys return the favor on White Day in March. Good thing I still have a sack of recees peanut butter cups I brought from home.

No quotes today. Listen to Cat Power, she's so good, and you need to hear her voice to understand why.

Bilingual Baka Band

note: baka is Japanese for idiot

Today I'll be writing about something that separates my Japanese experience from others: the band. I've done perhaps 5 or 6 bands in the last 10 years, each one carrying different dynamics of personality, interaction and chemistry between the members, ultimately leading to what kind of sound we were able to create. Nothing however could have prepared me for F.I.D., as it has been the greatest collaboration I've had the pleasure to take part in, but at the same time requires the most care, hard work and even multicultural awareness!

(This is starting to sound like a bad PBS special or VH1 documentary, but it gets better I promise.)

I can only repeat myself so many times, but for any random or new readers I joined F.I.D. late 2008, shortly after coming to Japan. The band was originally an all female grindcore act, but they were willing to sacrifice their novelty (which was never their aim in the first place) to get some fresh blood into the equation. Their had a falling out of sorts with the last guitarist, and I filled the gap. Since then it has been a steady uphill climb from 9 months of practicing to old MDs (digital recordings) with no drummer, due to Tomoko's pregnancy, all the way to our recent shows and finally now our writing new songs. It has been a wild ride and I feel like it's still in the early stages. We have all become good friends and there are no egos raging out of control and ruining the creative flow, as has been known to happen amongst bands in the past (firsthand experiences here). I personally have always gotten on well with girls as they tend to be less competitive and self-absorbed than most guys I've met in my life. And they are after all Japanese no less, but attitudes take it beyond all that gender and ethnicity stuff: These girls are in it for the right reasons, namely to write music, play it and have fun. That is first and foremost I love this band.

But it's not all ice cream cupcakes and puppy dogs in the park; Nothing worth doing is easy after all. Anyone who has been in a band knows that to practice every weekend is a lot harder than it sounds, not to mention other sacrifices of free time, energy and finances that come into play. Me and the drummer both travel about an hour to practice every Sunday - carrying our instruments on the subway, which for me took some getting used to but I do like it better than lugging stacks of speakers in my jeep..... though I miss my 5150 and mesa-boogie pre-amp combos!!! Sigh.

And then there is language. Oh what fun it is to interact with people from other cultures, but what a challenge it can be as well. The majority of our dialogues are all in Japanese, and the singer Makiko is the only one who speaks English at a nearly fluent level, hence some things going over my head, some misunderstandings, etc. (not to mention countless times I have to ask Maki to explain what the hell everyone is talking about) If I had a yen coin for every time I wanted to say something simple like: "Ok stop here, then put it some kind of fill, whatever you feel fits and then we will all come back in together for 3 measures until the wawowaw part," but was stopped dead in my tracks by a language barrier, I would have lots and lots of little yens. Granted my Japanese is decent, so I try my best to convey these in my second language, but it's tough and can also (if not often) be difficult to communicate sometimes even the simplest of things. I do greatly enjoy it on the whole, and we definitely make it through, things just take longer.

This segues nicely into another cultural point: Japanese people tend to speak in a vague and roundabout manner and as such are often typified (and not without reason) as indecisive by Western people. I've had my share of Japanese cultural experiences just living here - memories of prolonged conversations to achieve the simplest ends at the bank or the post office come to mind - but nothing compares to the band dynamics. The main difference between this band and my experiences in America is that everything is considered thoroughly before it's acted upon. For example, if I say: "We should speed up that part, what do you think?" It may result in a 5-10 minute debate before we actually just play the part and see how it sounds. While this isn't inherently bad - putting thought into things instead of charging pell-mell into them has merits - it doesn't exactly make for the timeliest song writing. I often find myself (and to be fair sometimes my bandmates are the ones to say it too) saying yattemiyo (let's try it and see). I feel the need to throw around my hasty and arrogant American bluntness at times, while others I flow with the girls in a more Japanese state of mind pertaining to caution, detail and delivery. A mix of both has a lot of virtue I think.

I have to say, it is entirely too cute when Tomoko - who on the surface appears to be the sweetest, most innocent and harmless looking lady you could ever meet - and us are discussing a song, and something comes up like: "you can put a quick fill in there before the next part!" She will sit there and ponder, drum stick or hand lightly touching the chin in a thoughtful manner before blasting out something completely amazing. Kana as well, sometimes a bit fuzzy from doing other band practices, a brutal 6 day work week full of overtime or a late-night drinking party will always put in 110%. She is a bit more tom-boyish, often using the pronoun boku to refer to herself, which is something only tomboys and musicians do and I think is individualistic and also very cute (Japanese are good at the cute thing). She is so much the opposite of Tomoko's seemingly traditional sense of self that it makes for interesting times and great writing. Case in point: Tomoko wasn't 100% after not playing drums for like a year (and who would be after a pregnancy, that's some hardcore stuff!) and I said one day something along the lines of: "Hey, your drumming skills are really coming back eh!" Which doesn't sound so bad in English but was much MUCH too direct and rude in Japanese, to which Kanako said dare omae? (Who the hell do you think you are?) And we all burst out laughing. In fact we have fun interactions like this quite often, and it helps to keep things fresh and interesting when playing a song for the 20th time in one day wears us down.

In closing, let it be known I am in a band with some very talented people and am far luckier than I deserve in that respect. I know I am not a great guitar player, however I am confident in my ability to construct good songs and churn out somewhat original or unexpected ideas. This goes a long way and will ultimately make F.I.D. a stronger band with broader horizons than before, while still maintaining the intensity that it has come to be associated with in the underground music arena.

Whatsoever it comes to in the future - playing shows in Tokyo, recording, possibly even traveling abroad to play a festival or 2 - I am having too much fun to stop any time soon. And I believe the girls feel the same. That is we work our hardest to achieve BBB - Bilingual Baka Band!!


"She she she she's a bombshell" - Operation Ivy

"So you're saying that girls only listen to ballads and love songs? The girls that I know wouldn't think so. But according to you a song should separate all the girls from the boys" - Polar Bear Club

Thank you George

"Scenepoint Blank: Do you think hardcore gets a rep of being lowbrow culture because of the aggression associated with it?

George Hirsch: Naturally my answer would be yes. Anything associated with aggression is almost always automatically labeled as "macho," "jockish," etc. It's sad. In my opinion hardcore is defined by that aggression and volatility. I do not condone unnecessary acts of violence, but I would have to say that hardcore for me stands out musically at its most violent, its most unpredictable. You want something that you can feel and lets you know that you are there. When you are in a room with four-hundred kids and people are just diving off of everything and sweating and screaming every word, that intensity is what hardcore is about for me. So honestly anyone that writes hardcore off as "lowbrow" because of that just doesn't understand it and honestly shouldn't even be checking the music out anyway, At least the music I am a part of. For people like that there is always the cute stuff they can listen to on the radio. If they still have an interest in hardcore they can always go get a crew cut and listen to The First Step."

-Scenepointblank interview with Blacklisted.

I'm not getting into any epic debates defending the kind of music I love, the meatheads who ruin it, those who can't wrap their heads around it or simply refuse to understand it. Not today. But reading this pretty much smacked the nail on the head for me; It speaks to what I love about the music, the style, this community and sub-culture that has been created, and despite being bastardized and turned into a form of big business in safe and easily digestible doses (much the way of metal and its various sub-genres), it still exists in an underground manner that is alive and breathing to this very day. I really need to get to a good hardcore show. I told these guys they need to come back to Tokyo. Here's hoping.

By the way, my life right now = spreading my tentacles out every which way, meeting new people, trying/doing new things and having fun a bit more. Studying will take an official backseat until March or April. This is good, you were right Kyle, I worked hard for a good 6 months so I should play hard for a little while longer. Also, while I'm direct-responding to readers, Tokyo-Working Girl, sorry I'm late on this - why don't you message me on Skype when you have a chance? The only Ben Belcher in Japan. We can discuss jobs and what yours is like there, I'm curious. Also if anyone else is really dying to have a chat with me for whatever reason, you can look me up on the aforementioned program, but I only accept messages from people I know so please identify yourself properly, thanks.

This week I feel like going back to school for a PHD would be a waste of time and a delve too far into academia for my tastes. There must be more options out there in the world of education. Maybe a terminal M.A. would suit me better, though I still don't know what exactly it would be in. The more I think the harder it gets to move, so here I will stay where it's cozy and I am happiest. For now! I can work while having ample time to explore music, books and my own interests. Can't ask for much more, save a bigger paycheck. Except that I remember thinking from a young age that when I finally grew up and got a job, I wouldn't become obsessed with the monetary value, but focus solely on how much I could enjoy it. No point in being a lawyer if it makes you miserable. So by that logic, I'm doing the right thing right now.

In case I'm being to ambiguous: all I want to do is be a teacher. I'd ideally like to teach higher level education at some point, I think. Either way I was right when I blogged it almost two years ago: "here's to being a teacher forever." Maybe I'll feel different 5 or 10 years from now, bitter and old mannish about the whole shtick, but it's hard to imagine.

The human brain didn't evolve with this many decision-making synapses in mind, constantly pulsating and driving ourselves crazy. This is why the modern world overwhelms us all - we are merely animals with far too many extraneous factors besides eating, sleeping and procreation keeping us busy.




"I'll be grazing by your window/Please come pat me on the head/I just want to find out what you're nice to me for/When I look up don't think I don't know/About all the scabs you dread/
It's hard to stomach the gore" Dinosaur Jr.

"Wish I knew safety/Wish nothing phased me/ Wish I felt more than just feelings of unrest/Wish the darkness didn't cloud me/Wish I wasn't an emotional wreck" - Blacklisted

In the wee hours of the morn

When I start one of these badboys, I want to have an idea in my head of what I'll write about. I've still got a few bouncing around, but to be frank they all feel like they'd take way too much time and effort to articulate. What a copout! I even have a half-finished entry from last weekend that I may or may not get around to finishing up. Lame right? But it's my blog, and I have total control over it so I can do what I want, when I want, and YOU CAN'T STOP ME MWA HA HA HA HA HAAAA~~~

I have a very good maniacal laugh by the way, if I start doing this youtube thing more maybe I'll demonstrate.

So what is there to write about besides the hassle of writing. Uuuuhhhhhhhhhh. Stew? Yea this is me on a Saturday morning. I work Friday night and am leaving for work again in a little while. And overtime tomorrow, followed by an evening band practice. I'm a sucker for pain (and money), what can I say. My brain will be trickling out of my ear come Sunday night. However, something very important is going on Monday morning at 8am. "Ben," you ask, "is it your edutaining Japanese lesson that you always so faithfully attend?"

NOPE!

Is it the most dignified, strategic and sophisticated of all things on God's Green Earth? Perhaps even the last real sport of exquisite quality and sheer unbridled manliness left to all of mankind?

Well... no.

But it is the superbowl! Due to the 14 hour time difference and my looking for anything fun or interesting to do on my one day off this week, I'll be attending a breakfast buffet event at Heaven's Gate- I mean, er, Heaven's Door in Shimokitazawa. I hear their Kool-aid is top-notch! But really folks, it's 2000 yen to enter, perhaps some other Tokyoites/blog-readers want to drop in and say hi? I don't bite! I just sort of gnaw.... Also, I don't think I'll really be drinking much if anything - that is way too early and I'm not, how do you say, an alcoholic. Still, it'll be cool to see it live this year, instead of getting it spoiled by gmail advertisements before I could even watch a recap like last year. -_-

OK, I really should be shoving off, this has been a nonsensical and non-serious post brought to you by Ben Belcher. Yes, I do these sometimes too. Ta ta!

....Colts!

Because writing takes so long

I posted two new videos:

VLOG #2


Me reading 3 of my poems

I passed JLPT2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格合格！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！！

I'm so happy. I blame exhaustion, but I cried tears of joy upon seeing my results in the mail as I strolled in from a full day on the job. I worked for this, I earned this! I spent countless Saturday nights studying kanji instead of doing other fun things. I studied thousands of new words and grammar in a span of six months. I learned to speed-read in a foreign language. I've been studying Japanese 3 years and I pulled it off. Holy shit. I'm still reeling in shock that I actually pulled it off.

Come December, JPT1 time: hell or high water.

Do you see

a blog layout littered with advertisements, banners and "give me money for this crap already" written all over it? Nope. And my blog(s) will always be that way. If I made a dime off of any of this, I'd be cheating you. I can post for free, so I will write for free. That's my philosophy.

Cats and Dogs, LIVING TOGETHER.

In reflection, the last few posts have all been a bit on the serious side. While I am a pretty serious guy, I also have a sense of humor, so here is an amalgamation of recent life events, ancient history, future goals, show write-ups and a look into my eccentric psyche. Without further ado:

The dreaded JLPT2 test being behind me for now (results to come mid-February, what a wait!) I have been enjoying a slightly more relaxing lifestyle than in previous months to say the least. Since I've gotten back home I've caught up on a few movies (Paranormal Activity and Up in the Air both surpassed my expectations), a lot of Bukowski as previously noted (you're right Nick, he does get repetitive but man he's good) and even some gaming time. Gaming is something I did so much between the ages of 3-12, and 19-23, that is hard to believe I've abandoned it so. Blame it on childhood and then later on smoking too much weed (respectively in THAT order) if you like, but I love games. I still do, I merely don't have time for them!

What did I do from ages 13-18? Learned guitar, bands, girlfriends, attempted to make friends and fit in. And was still an angsty teen, oh yes I was. Angsty and out there, I used to never talk to anybody in Junior High School! I just walked around school wearing my headphones constantly and listening to Nothingface, Section 8, Candiria and Skinless. Those were some times, and of course High School I made some great friends - some not so great - and even had a bit too much fun sometimes.

I skipped High School English 12 times in my senior year due to my teacher being quite monotone and my being somewhat rebellious. Pretty ironic when you think about the fact that I became an English teacher 5 years later! Yes I know what you're thinking: "that's great Alanis, get on with something more interesting!" Well how about the fact that he let me by on an extra credit reading of Franz Kafka's "The Metamorphosis?" My life will never be the same.

All tangents aside the main point being what I meant to say was in all honesty i don't think i could put it any clearer than that is to say........ I now don't incorporate much time for games, unless I'm really tired or feeling unable to be productive in any way. So playing Half Life 2 for the first time on my 360 is a nice break from reality. Bang bang, pow pow, none of that lame "Gears of War" duck-and-cover crud everybody rants and raves about. Just a good ol' run-around-shoot-solve-puzzles-enjoy-the-ride-style game. And Portal is quite excellent as well.

My New Years Resolutions? To pass the JLPT1 in December (ain't that a lark!), to lose this wretched gut of mine and turn it into pure muscle once and for all (making progress!) and finally to play guitar more. I've been slacking a bit these days, only playing at practices or at shows and that's not going to cut any sort of mustard whatsover- brown, yellow, spicy dijon, etc. If I want to write the best tunes possible with F.I.D., I have got to push myself harder and work more as a guitarist. This is a bit hard with work, Japanese and making sure I squeeze in fun time and travel, but I will manage it. I'm going to the country on Sunday this weekend, Okutama to be exact, google it if you want to know what it looks like. Mountains and rivers and all that fun stuff this concrete block-city doesn't offer me.

Shows!! Played two last weekend. I wasn't on my best game but oh man, they were fun! Highlights include CxPxSx singer diving headfirst into a garbage can! They are easily my current favorite band to see in Tokyo, next to Kurupino - she didn't even have the electronics setup when I saw her play! Only one tom, a cymbal, a frog-puppet, plastic implements *ahem*, a drumstick, a mic and an S&M whip. Quality! Anyhow that was about the highlight of Tuesday night, besides some 80s-new wave, a thrash metal band and Visual K (Japanese slang basically meaning new-school hair metal) band named Sex-Virgin Killers, who were all good at what they did. It was pretty sweet.

Flash/rewind to Sunday. Biggest show I'd played in a long time, maybe 200+ heads, big stage, big backstage, lots of drunkenness, crusties (dirty punkers), mohawks, leather-studded jackets, old-time punkers noisecore bands and then F.I.D. somewhere in the middle of it all. The bassist of the Wanky's, a punker band of drunken debauchery from the U.K. graciously invited us on the bill, and although we stuck out - being "grind" and not noise or old-school punk like the rest of the bill - it wasn't a bad thing. DSB (Drunken Shit Bastards) and Struggle For Pride were band that stuck out as really good.

Anyway, I was quite nervous about playing at first. The girls insisted I give some kind of introduction speech, and I obliged - certainly no one ever wanted me near the mic during any of my previous band stints. By the way I've been laying down a few vocals live here or there, at the risk of further tarnishing a once all-female grindcore band no less.

(In case you're a new reader or just need a reminder, Flagitious Idiosyncracy in the Dilapitation is what I'm talking about.)

Sunday:

「このバンドはぜんぶ女の人でも俺は女の人らしいじゃないけど。。。ファクユウアアアル！」
"This band is all women but it appears that I am not a woman... *obscenity* YOU ALL!!!"

My intro speech from Tuesday is also worth mentioning. In an overly cutesy-voice (except for the last bit I said:

「あのね。。。はじめまして、べんです、よろしくな！GO TO HELL!!!」
Umm, I'm Ben, nice to meet you all. GO TO HELL!!!!

The need to break the tension a bit was obvious, I seemed to have their respect but I looked scary enough normally, let alone shredding and losing it with a large blunt instrument in my hands. As we initially set up I definitely heard choruses of マジっすか？ (seriously??) at both shows, most likely referring to the giant white guy with the three Japanese bandmates. There were however a lot of people who seemed to dig us at this bigger show, and a line of 6 or 7 faithful metalheads in the front, holding their beercans like majestic chalices, headbanging and continually offering me and Makiko drinks. I swiped one, chugged it and tossed it back out in an attempt to be all crazy and whatnot. I sweat and shredded my hardest - could have been tighter but the energy was there. People complimented us on it and we moved a few units, and when all was said and done I (we) had an awesome time.

Perhaps the strangest bit of all this was that the original guitarist showed up to the Sunday gig. (!!!) This is the woman who wrote most of the stuff I'm now playing, and as it so happened it was the first time I'd ever met her. It was kind of like being on a date and meeting your girl's ex-boyfriend, like: "oh hey you used to be all up in this but now she's mine. Sorry?" Without going overtly into detail perhaps it was awkward at best. We'll be changing over our set to quite a few newer tunes in the future anyhow, although she did write some good tunes!

I'll leave you with that. Work in the morning. You stay classy San Diego!

"He's a Buddhist, Christian, paramedic, vegan, straight edge pimp but most of all... Big. He's big" - Horse the Band

"There's not much chance for survival if the neon bible is right" - Arcade Fire

"I've got it all.......most." - Modest Mouse

P.S. Started yet another blog on account of I've been inspired to start writing again. I mean writing stuff besides this journal: "Benjamin L. Belcher's Poetry and Prose." Riveting name, I know. Check it if you like.

Why I play

It's not a matter of making money or getting famous and it never was. It was always about creating something that expressed your feelings in a way that society and the powers that be wouldn't allow. It was and still is about opening the jar of pent-up rage and frustration inside and unleashing it in a positive manner. Instead of beating your wife or doing heroin or banging your head against a wall, you throw all of your emotions out into the music with a burst of power and a sense of release. We play for fun, we play to create, we play because it's something we have more control over than almost anything else in our lives. Everywhere else there's always someone waiting to come down on you, watching you to make sure you stay inside the trail everyone else has blazed. In music, we can transcend the mundanity of everyday life and do something that is ours and ours alone. Nobody else can touch it.

Save Yourself (old band) 2004

Most Precious Blood (with Save Yourself) 2004. "Every scar has a story, no guts no glory."

F.I.D. first show, 2009

Homecoming show Christmas 2009, singing along with good ol' JT, singer of my last band in the states, Damnation Alley.

These are just a couple of small examples. Maybe I've been to 800 shows in my life, maybe 1,000, maybe more. I've been doing bands for the last 10 years. I don't think I was ever happy until the first time I was writing songs and jamming with my friends. Without music, I don't know where I'd be today, but it certainly wouldn't be here. I play and I scream because it's all I can do to make the most of the life I have, and dammit, it makes me happy.

"[don't] Forget that... there are places in this world that aren't made out of stone. That there's something inside... that they can't get to, that they can't touch. That's yours... Hope." - Shawshank Redemption.

There and back again

Time for an overdue presentation to the faithful blog-followers. Please open your books to page 2010, index 179.0081, class is in session.

New York was quite a trip. Going home was such a mindfuck, I could actually feel pieces of my memories of Tokyo-life and NY-life overlapping and fighting for dominance in my mind, like someone suffering from split personality disorder. Allow me to digress into a bit about the "counter culture shock" I mentioned a few posts back.

When I walked off of that plane, it was like stepping into a different world. I had been in Japan for about 18 months remember, the only break being a trip to Korea. So I was accustomed to many things which were turned on their heads promptly upon my arrival. To be frank, the sheer mass of people - yes I'm talking about obesity but also average height and girth - and ethnic diversity stunned me. Hearing everyone speaking English, not to mention speaking loudly in line, seeing the attendants looking bored, tired, and wearing blatant expressions of "I don't want to be here" on their faces was nothing less than shocking to me. You've got to understand what service is like in Japan: everyone always wears a smile, they say the veritable equivalent of "Someone honorable is present" (often less literally translated as: "Welcome to our store) every time you enter their place of business, and give you extended thanks and courtesy to the point of overkill. Flipping from that back to the American standard of courtesy on the job (which is pretty pathetic by all of my accounts) really made my head spin.

While I was standing in line for customs (it took well over an hour) I was at first talking to this professional fisherman from Guam on his way to Kentucky for some sort of business-related thing, and I was having a really interesting discussion about America's claim of eminent domain concerning Guam and the history and everything for as long as we were waiting. That distracted me well enough until I got into a separate line and had to take in my surroundings. Everyone was chattering so loudly, and in English mind you, that it flipped some WTF switch in my mind and I had to leave on my headphones for the sake of keeping it together. Granted I hadn't slept at all for about 24 hours but still, it was such overload. The plane ride from Newark to Albany consisted (as per usual) of taxing for nearly an hour followed by a 30 minute flight. I was cranky and just wanted to get home.

When I did, well that was very nice. To see my family, and my best friend Jessica, it was a relief but I was almost too exhausted to appreciate it. On the way home riding in my Mom's minivan and sitting on the passenger side was also really disorienting, it being a dark and frigid December night didn't help one bit (bear in mind that cars in Japan drive on the left side of the road and the passenger seats are also on the left side)

When I got back, I had the pleasure of a bowl of my Mom's homemade turkey soup and with a side-order of my Mom's two-month old kittens. They really helped me relax, although they kept walking on my face in the middle of the night. The one was named Bonnie, the other Butterscotch, though it turned out that contrary to my Mom's impressions the former was actually a boy, making him/her "Bonnie, the sexually confused kitty cat." He/she also has a serious mother complex and is always trying to nurse on peoples ears. WEIRD.

I was only jetlagged for a day or two, but I was wound so incredibly tight, and this feeling outlasted my jetlag. I will never forget the next morning, that lovely, crisp Monday morning roasting at a seasonable 34 degrees, walking into Price Chopper, our local super market, and being awed by the sheer size of it and the offerings of so-long forbidden delights: giant succulent red and yellow peppers, hummus, feta cheese, bagged salads, a plethora of canned goods, whole grain oat and wheat breads, tortilla chips, salsas and even an entire aisle dedicated to cereal!!!!!! My heart never sang with such joy as it did that day. It was almost magical.

Thanks to the kindness of my Father I was able to drive the old 97 Jeep Cherokee delivery-mobile of many a pizza around during my stay. And boy did I drive. A lot. And the majority of drivers in my area - and I'll be damned if it isn't true for most other areas as well - are terrible drivers. Especially in the winter-time. No blinkers, no flashers, sudden stops, running lights, erratic driving, sliding on fresh snow, overly aggressive and unwarranted driving, granny driving, I could go on and on. Long story short is I enjoyed traveling by car around the beautiful capital region of Albany New York and soaking in the never-ending waves of nostalgia, but my god give me trains for the rest of my days and I'll be content. I didn't realize how much stress driving can really add to one's day until I had the opportunity to compare it to living in an urban environment like Tokyo.

Which gives me a nice segue into the urban versus the "suburban," or downright redneck hick-town U.S.A. Upstate NY is full of the latter and I lived in it for like 95% of my life. Suffice it to say I saw my surroundings with new eyes, a greater appreciation for the beauty and historical character of the American city versus the clunky, overly modern and concrete-blockishness of the Japanese city. Albany and it's surrounding areas are also full of nature, and lots of it. So many trees, I'd never really taken the time to look at them before. It was as if I had seen them, but never had any breadth of appreciation save a fleeting one. Even in the wintertime they stood like glorious landmarks of NY's natural beauty in my mind, and I was to spend a good chunk of time just observing and appreciating my environment over the course of my stay.

I mentioned being wound up? I was wound tighter than a rattle snake on speed spun down a hill in a tractor tire. If it wasn't for the courtesy of my friend Dave (writer of this fine music blog plug plug) letting me rage in his apartment for a bit and vent out all the crazy thoughts that were swarming in my head, I don't know how I would have survived the whole ordeal. I did spend valuable time with (in no particular order) Dave, Rich, Phil, Danielle, Kevin, Josh, John T., Kerri, Kyle, Gabe, Jessica, Dana, Fran, Margaret, Kaitlin, Mike L., Mike C., Rick, John B., Alaric and probably many others who are escaping my mind at the moment. That doesn't even include my family, or the slew of people I saw for like 5 seconds and didn't have nearly enough time to catch up with. There are others I'd like to have seen but wasn't able to, and of course the few I was hoping not to run into and (luckily) didn't.

I tipped everyone in a reckless fashion - there being no tipping whatsoever in Japan and also on account of my feeling great about having money and free time at home for the first time in what felt like an eternity. I even dropped 10 bucks in the tip-jar at the pizza shop I used to work at. Some had left but a few loyal employees looked the spitting image of themselves from 2 years ago. Very peculiar, or maybe not so peculiar.

It's amazing how some things and people change so drastically in a short period of time and some stay completely the same. Constancy is a good thing mind you, routine is something we humans crave, but change is also good. Very good, and very necessary even if we don't always want it to be. I am in short glad I've made the choices that I have. My hometown is a truly beautiful place, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life confined there doomed to wondering if there wasn't something more that could've been. That's my take on things, and you can quote me.

I bought/received many amazing books, not limited to Salman Rushdie's latest, Howard Zinn's "A People's History...," "The Unbearable Lightness of Being," a Charles Bukowski anthology called "Run with the Hunted," "Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger: Can China and India dominate the West?" An index of classical to modern philosophers and their main theories, and several other tomes which weighed down my suitcase by no small amount. I'm currently digging eagerly through the Bukowski and audiobooking Moby Dick, both of which have so far greatly exceeded my expectations.

I ate so much delicious food when I was home. New York pizza at least 10 times, Indian lunch buffet at least 3 times, hummus uncountable times, my Aunt's homemade lasagna and my Mom's amazing taco dip, divine pork cops, ziti, tuna noodle casserole, exquisite salads, chilis, wraps, sauces, flavors, and all kinds of wonderful things. My tastebuds rejoiced like it was the second coming. Sometimes I just had to stop doing anything else, close my eyes and just bask in the glory of the things hadn't touched my tongue in so very long. I consumed them and it was good.

I even went to church for the first time in what must be nigh on 10 years, with my father and my sister. My feelings on the matter? It was very nostalgic for me, being the church that was also a private school I attended in the 4th and 5th grade (and I refuse to discuss these years in any more detail whatsoever for now) Was I converted back to a healthy life of God-fearing Christianity? Sorry to disappoint you but no, I was not. I did however recognize the beauty in the community that a church embodies in a way I couldn't when I was younger. I saw people supporting each other and reaching out in a very healthy and healing manner, and I thought: "That's great for them. It's just not for me."

I'm a staunch atheist by the way, if I haven't made that clear in the past. We'll leave religious musings for another post but let me preface anything you might think questionable about my stance on religion with the fact that I was raised a Christian, and that I believe in the righteousness of the ethics laid out by Jesus Christ, and even that the bible is full of morally rich teachings. I simply don't believe in any of the supernatural elements of it. Jesus was a man, and a great one, but just a man. That's all. Sorry Mom and Dad and the rest of my family which is uniformly Christian.

However, you don't have to be Christian to do good deeds, like charity of one form or another. It wasn't much but, thanks to Rian and JT and some other really cool people who supported the event or came out, we held a benefit show as was mentioned some posts back. This was a benefit for NBIA, the disease which afflicted my brother and continues to plague my two older sisters. The highlights for me were:

-seeing lots of friends all together in the same place
-Kerri preparing tons of delicious baked goods for us to sell. Thanks Kerri!!
-Damnation Alley's set. It was so tight. They even opened with River Runs Red by Life of Agony which is an awesome song. Thanks guys. I went up to Dave (guitarist) at the end of the set and told him: "I'm glad I quit the band. You guys got way better without me."
-Me raffling off a bunch of Japanese candy (mostly purposefully "gross" stuff like fried squid strips and fish-flavored shrimpy corn puffs) along with a few rare goodies (100 yen-store chopsticks and an F.I.D. CD). I never knew people got so into raffles, made like $60 selling tickets, crazy.

In the end we only raised around $300, but it's that much more to a good cause. You can donate, learn more and spread awareness of this particular cause if you so desire by checking out the official website: http://www.nbiadisorders.org/

This is also a video of my Mother, whose strength of heart I hope to achieve some day myself, being interviewed for the local news about the disease:



Heavy stuff isn't it? Welcome to my family life. I remember when that perfect model of an 80s-bloomed le femme news anchor turned to me with a look of longing to understand and asked me: "How do you process all this?" I could have answered in various ways but chose something along the lines of: "In my eyes, this has been the reality for more than 10 years. I've had time to process it, I accept things for what they are." I could have said a lot more... About the cruelness of the genetic lottery, the random coldness of the world itself, the unfair burdens shifted upon some and not others, how it effected and shaped my personality (which it played a heavy hand in), how my brother's death indirectly lead to my leaving the country. I could have said a lot of things, but I don't bother to say them to those who don't really want to listen. Or at least don't have the time. I bet some of you internet-readers out there care to know it a hell of a lot more than some local celebrity T.V. journalist does.

I can't properly detail and describe everything I felt and experienced throughout my Return to New York (although I do distinctly remember an elderly couple almost backing into my car while I was on my way to the aforementioned church that fateful Sunday). Some details I have left out are too personal, although they would undoubtedly make for great writing. Let me leave it to mystery and say that I love and appreciate the western woman and her independently feminine identity and attitude much more than I did before I left. It was refreshing to see a bit of that while I was home, cultural gender identity was, among other things flipped on its head, as Japan is stuck somewhere in the 1950s as far as Women's lib. is concerned.

At any rate, I made it back to Japan in one piece. And being here, now, I hold a greater appreciation for Tokyo and feel some of the awe and inspiration this city once instilled in me born anew. I won't be here forever. If things go according to plans, some time in 2011 should be an exit date. But while I'm here I'll make the most of it because baby, you only live once.

I'll leave you with a stunning reading by the man who has been reinvigorating my love of poetry from beyond the grave, one Charles Bukowski: