Happiness is a Warm Gun?

I woke up this morning to the news about Connecticut.

My God, 20 children. 20 children, some of them around Makoto's age. 20. Children. And 6 adults who, as teachers, would be colleagues of mine. When is enough, enough?

Already spinning around the Internet is the usual "It wasn't the guns! Guns don't kill people, people kill people! If only everyone had a gun, this wouldn't have happened (Ignoring that there's a gun for just about every man, woman, and child in the US not to mention guns at school is a terrifying idea from a teacher's standpoint)!"

I don't think it was the guns, it's the culture. There are societies that are armed and do not have this problem. We are an armed society, but no, we are not particularly polite (Something that was brought home to me when I went back home). Societies with strict gun control also don't have this problem. The US however...

We have a culture that loves the gun. It's a nation that has somehow gotten to the point where we can not longer do without, we bind ourselves to it, to having them, judge our worth, build our heroes, and elect our leaders based on their views of firearms. It's... the wild west taken to extreme. We have become addicted to the gun, and like all addicts, we cannot and will not admit that we have a problem, instead we lash out at any attempt to remove that to which we are addicted. We're the drunk who after beating his wife cries that it wasn't the booze's fault, that he'll change, just don't take it away from him!

We're the one who swears that we are fully in control and who gets belligerent when any attempt to limit is spoken of.

And more children die. When will it be enough? When will we say that this isn't working, that more guns won't be the answer, that taking them away wouldn't stop it either? We need to change ourselves.

I know on my blog I rag a bit on Japan, I love it here, but from a humor standpoint, it's something to hold up, see what's odd? What's different?

In Japan, it is almost impossible to own a gun. Japan as a nation has less gun deaths a year than my hometown. There are those who would claim that it was the lack of mental health care that brought today's tragedy  but Japan is far worse than the US when it comes to mental health, and yet there are no school shootings. There are those who would state that a nation where you don't have the right to bear arms is close to tyranny, what is to protect you from the government after all? Perhaps. I don't have the right to own a gun over here, but then again I don't worry when I leave for the day that my sons might be shot. At the end of the day, I might not be able to march on Tokyo with a gun in my hand to force the government to back down, but I can hug my sons close to me tonight, something that 20 families in Connecticut will not be able to do again.

There's that pithy quote from Franklin about security and liberty, which might also be true, but I think we as a nation need to decide just what kind of price we're willing to pay, and pay, and pay for our 'liberty'.

I don't know the answers, except that the first thing to say is enough, this must change!

One of the hardest things I have done as a father was to have to explain to Makoto, who was watching the news tonight that a bad man went into a school and killed 20 children like him and 6 teachers. It was hard to look him in the eyes and tell him that Daddy just doesn't know why it happened, but that people are sad because it has happened. Makoto started to cry because of the kids and the teachers who were killed, and because he was scared.

At least then I had an answer for him, that Mommy and Daddy wouldn't let this happen to him, we have chosen to stay in Japan.

When is enough, enough? How many more times must we see this? How many more times will I have to comfort my sons and assure them that they won't be shot? We need help, not more guns.

Happiness is holding your family tight, not a warm gun.

The 100th Post Extravaganza!

I don't know how I got here. I really don't.

See, this was just a kind of "Oh, why not?" kind of thing. I pretty much expected that after about a month it'd die.

Now, admittedly I haven't kept to the daily schedule, I haven't even kept the every other day idea either, real life/lack of things to write about/lack of time/being Daddy take me away from the keyboard a lot, but still...

100 posts. Not bad I guess.

I'm not even too sure who reads this beyond on fellow father/blogger in Korea and a friend or two, but for those who do...

Thanks.

And I still have more stories to tell. After all, we're now fully into the terrible twos with Hikaru and Makoto is rapidly approaching elementary school so I'm sure I'm going to need a space to vent and just scream for help!

Gobble Gobble Wibble Wobble Do a Noodle Dance! Thanksgiving 2012

Thanksgiving has always been a really important holiday for me. My father's family lives in the San Francisco Bay Area (Why my father migrated to Nevada has always been somewhat of a mystery) and thus I didn't get to see them often. Our trips down were seasonal really, we'd come down for spring, summer, and fall holidays. Spring was Easter break, the 'long' trip. Summer was Summer vacation and Cousins' Week. Fall was Thanksgiving, our last chance to see our family before the winter snows made travel over Donner Pass too dangerous.

Before those who have never been over the Sierra Nevada in winter start giggling (Or those who drive it regularly winter or no), please remember that we're talking about a single mother in a small, front wheel drive compact car attempting to go over a pass that does get shut down often in the winter, or at least gets chain controls. Not to mention that getting stuck up there has happened before...

In any case, Thanksgiving was the last chance to see family until either March or April and while a quick trip, it was almost always fun. Mom would yank my sister and I out of school the Wednesday beforehand (And of course any chance to get out of school early...) load us up, and we'd be off to Bay Area in the annual race to beat the traffic. Certainly we had our share of adventures along the way, for example the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake managed to cause some issues, mainly the collapse of the Cypress Viaduct meant that our normal route to Grandma and Papa's house was gone, which ended up with Mom getting lost and winding up far, far from where we were supposed to go.

But usually we'd arrive and then the next day would be the big day, and boy was it. My family normally seats around 20+ for Thanksgiving and would serve turkey, stuffing, rolls, salad, mashed potatoes, peas, candied yams, corn, Quiche, olives, stuffed celery, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and mincemeat pie. Not to mention all the snacks that came before and after, the wine, sparkling apple cider, etc. The table would stretch from one end of whomever's house we were at (It rotated every year) to the other and groan with the weight of the food, plates, and cutlery. The kitchen would become a mini-war center overseen by various aunts, mothers, and of course Grandma in which foods that had been more or less cooked at various houses were heated up and served while dishes would be washed and the dishwasher loaded and run non-stop. In the mean time, various uncles and Papa would be watching TV (Usually a football game), enjoying a pre-dinner drink, and yelling at various cousins and kids to either settle down a bit or not eat too many snacks and spoil our dinners.

We various cousins and kids of course would be ignoring this and tearing trough the house and outdoors like loons and sneaking as many snacks as we possibly could.

The magic time would be right before dinner when the turkey finally came out and raids on the kitchen would start in order to claim that magic prize, turkey skin!

To this day, my aunts have never managed to serve a non-bald turkey. The skin is always stripped before we get close to carving.

And finally of course, dinner, with family and catching up with what happened since we last saw each other, high dinner theater of the inevitable political argument, and finally clean-up with a chance of a possible ice and whipped cream war started by my grandmother.

It was glorious.

The rest of the weekend would be spent digesting and the start of Christmas shopping on Saturday. Sunday, we'd get into the car and race home in the hopes of not getting trapped by snow while listening to Christmas music; or rather, my sister and I would pray for snow on Sunday so that the pass would shut down and we'd have another day off from school.

Now as a kid, I liked Thanksgiving, but it was Christmas and Halloween where my heart belongs (Kids are kids and free candy and presents top turkey), but as an adult when I started making my own trips down to the Bay Area Wednesday night after classes would be over with at university, I started to really appreciate being able to be with my family.

And then I moved to Japan.

If any time of the year gets me homesick, it's Thanksgiving. As noted, it was the last time that I would normally gather with my whole family for the year. I missed the foods, I missed the traditions, I missed my family. Japan does have family gathering type holidays, two of them in fact and we do gather, but they are in late summer and New Year's and we gather at Beloved's parents house. There's also a lack of turkey in Japan as well. So for 7 long years, I didn't really have Thanksgiving. Oh, sure, I'd try to make something special, maybe have some chicken on the day, and I would give thanks, but... it wasn't Thanksgiving.

This year though, well... This year we have a house of our own and I have two sons who have not learned about this part of their heritage (And given the Japanese calendar, are unlikely to ever make it back to the States in time for it). We also had Beloved's parents coming up for Makoto's 7-5-3 festival and Japan's Labor Thanksgiving Day was the Friday after Thanksgiving Day thus I had a day off to cook so... It was time to have my own Thanksgiving.

Turkey before the roasting

Which was scary enough, yes. My previous attempts at cooking a turkey (One of my aunt's gave me a turkey when I was in college as payment for helping her) was mixed at best. Oh sure, the bird came out great, the gravy... Well, all I remembered was that one mixed pan drippings in with flour. Our gravy was more turkey flavored paste. Thus I concluded that Thanksgiving dinner should be left to wise aunts, mothers, and grandmothers. But this year... I had no wise aunts, mothers, and grandmothers to fall back on as turkey and the trimmings are quite different from the Japanese dishes that Beloved and her mother are so good at. Even worse, the time difference meant that there would be no panicked phone calls back to the States in hopes of getting a wise aunt/mother/grandma on the phone to help with a disaster. And even worse-er, just about everything would have to done from scratch. You simply cannot buy a lot of the pre-made stuff.

But I was going to do it anyway. And I did. Spending Thursday night making the pie and all day Friday cooking I served turkey (Bought from Foreign Buyers Club) in a roaster that came from the US, oyster stuffing from a recipe that has been passed down through my family from my great-great-great-grandmother, cranberry sauce, and candied yams. The smells of the day brought me back home and the fact that my sons proceeded to devour the bird and the trimmings till both of their bellies were large and round proved that they are indeed my true born sons, blood of my blood and Americans in the bone.

I see you trying to get into it!

Actually, it was a bit of a problem as Hikaru kept coming into the kitchen and trying to get me to feed him turkey while it was cooling by pointing and saying "Turkey! Eat!" and when I wouldn't, he'd go and get Jiji, Mommy, or Baba in an effort to get them to give him turkey. He got quite annoyed when that didn't happened and attempted to conduct a raid on the table instead. Somewhere I could hear my female relatives laughing at me as I fought to defend my dinner from a toddler. But my in-laws also took to Thanksgiving dinner, and to turkey skin (I, too, had to serve a bald turkey). In fact, the best compliment I received was Beloved asking me to make this again next weekend, which I am so not going to do, but it was great that it was enjoyed that much.

It wasn't quite the same, but it was Thanksgiving with food, laughter, and family gathered together before the coming chill.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It was glorious.

And it also was a taste, if a small one, of home; a chance to introduce my culture a bit to my sons and my in-laws. It was nice to see them taking to it so well too. My father-in-law even managed to get right into the swing of things with traditional American happily overstuffed on Thanksgiving dinner after-dinner nap. And I didn't even have to tell him about that one either!

Studying With Children

Don't.

As noted before, I'm currently attempting to learn how to read Japanese, or rather, read one of the four writing systems used by the Japanese. The general idea is for me to complete about one lesson per day, say about 20 to 40 kanji or so. So far, weekdays have been generally pretty good. While I'm busy at school, I usually have some downtime that allows me to chew through most of them, although sometimes they follow me home.

Weekends however... Oh boy. Try 5 minute interruptions from the boys, usually alternating. The first one will almost always be Hikaru who comes tearing into my office in tears. Why, you may ask, is my youngest in tears? Because big brother did something, usually attempt to take a toy. So, comfort toddler, yell at 5 year-old, kick both out of office, go back to kanji.

5 minutes later and Makoto is coming through the door, this time to complain that Hikaru won't do what he, Makoto, told him to do and since last time I yelled at him for hitting Hikaru, he wants me to get the toy this time. Tell Makoto he needs to share, tell Hikaru to share with Makoto, kick both out of office, go back to kanji.

Again Hikaru shows up, this time because Makoto, trying to color, kicked him out of the room so he decides to bring the toy that makes noise into Daddy's office to play. Physically remove toddler from office, yell at small boy to let his brother play in the room, go back to office, close the door, go back to kanji.

Makoto opens the door to tell me Hikaru pushed him and now he hit his arm on something. Comfort 5-year-old, yell at two-year-old, kick both out of office, go back to kanji... what kanji was I on again? I don't know! Too bad it's not annoyance, because I'm sure I'd remember that!

Makoto and Hikaru this time demanding things to color. Growl at my beloved children, print out something, threaten to ship them both to Timbuktu in a cheese crate, go back to kanji.

Finally towards evening, having gotten through half of what I needed to do, Beloved calls me downstairs. It seems that Makoto is falling asleep so she wants me to play with him so he doesn't nap right before dinner (Once Makoto is asleep, it's impossible to wake him up without having a temper tantrum). "But," says she, "Only if you're done with your kanji, but I'd really like it if you could."

*sigh* "Of course."

"Are you done?" says Beloved.

"No"

"But, you had so much time!"

Resolved, remove the baby-gate from Beloved's hidy hole where she retreats to get away from her children and install it in my office, making sure to ducktape the latch so that Makoto can't open it.

Post Election 2012

The great thing about being in Japan is that even though I am from a swing state (Nevada), I get to miss out on most of the insanity. When I wanted to partake I had to go online to get it and when I was done with it, I could disconnect and go back to Japan where, while the election was important, is a bit more concerned about the silly people in Tokyo than the silly people in Washington DC.

Still, as a father of two tiny Americans, I did want to talk to my sons a bit about the election and it was very important for me to start to impress upon them that they must vote when they are of age. While, technically, they will have two short years in which to vote in two different countries (The voting age in Japan is 20), I want them to be thinking of voting as something that isn't just a right, it's a duty.

It's also an obligation in my family. See, my family believes that political arguments makes for great dinner theater and every four years sees at least a few people shouting across the dinner table at Thanksgiving about the previous election. Actually, we shout across the table regardless of when the election was. Then we get into the ice cube and whipped cream war, but that's another story.

Still, there is one cardinal rule that my family follows, which is thus: if you are of age to vote, and you didn't, you are not allowed to argue or complain about politics as you didn't use your chance to change things.

It's this, plus a sense of duty, that was impressed upon me as a child. I remember going to the polls a few times with my mother to watch her vote so that my sister and I could see that there was nothing to it. When I turned 18, my mother drove me down to the city clerk to register and took me to the polling place that year so I could cast my first vote. I've voted in ever general election since, even after coming to Japan.

So it was with that in mind that I showed my sons my absentee ballot and told them what I was doing. Hikaru of course wasn't too impressed once he found out that Daddy wasn't going to let him color on it in crayon. Makoto however was a bit more interested.

Said he, "You need to pick Obama, Daddy!"

Me: "And why is that?"

Makoto: "Um.... you know... he's from America and you're from America so..."

Me: "Romney's from America too, Sweetheart."

Makoto: "Oh." Much thought. "Um, who likes Go-Busters! more?"

Which is probably not a bad basis for deciding on whom to vote for, all thing considered.

As for the Japan side, we haven't had a general election yet, but one should be coming up soon. The last time however Beloved took Makoto to the polls with her to see her vote and he got the prize that all children love on Election Day, the I Voted sticker.

In Japanese of course.

I'm assuming that she will take at least one of them with her when she goes again. Hopefully though she'll remember to get Hikaru to leave the crayons at home. I doubt that the Japanese government accepts ballots in crayons any more than the US one does.

Mommy Fall Down and Go Boom!

So Sunday was supposed to be my day of drunken debauchery. Kinda, actually what I did have was a day long drill with the firefighters where there was two separate drinking parties scheduled. Usually these parties after a day long event see us at a local snack or hostess club. For those who don't know, the idea is a place to go and drink overly expensive and watered drinks while singing karaoke, munching on snack foods, and flirting outrageously with the girls who are there to make guys happy.

Now before this raises eyebrows, let me clarify, no, we're not talking about THAT kind of happiness (At least not at the ones we normally go to), instead, ala Teahouse of the August Moon, these are girls who normally pour drinks, light cigarettes, sing, and fluff our egos to rather silly heights via flirting and putting up with us in general.

Or in my case, I go to drink, get drunk enough to inflict my singing on people, and listen while the girls tell me my Japanese is sooooo great because I said yes to them and then proclaim their ignorance of English and either attempt to get a free English lesson off of me or find ways of avoiding me because the concept of having to speak English scares them. This is probably why Beloved has no fears that I would ever run away with a bar hostess.

Any case, to pay the piper however, we DID have a drill and one that required me to get to the firehouse on Sunday at 7:30 in the morning with temps hovering just above freezing. So I did get up early, dressed in my uniform, and was just heading downstairs to sneak out of the house when I found Beloved and the kids up at 10 till 7. A bit odd, but then I had forgotten Thomas. Still, not a bad thing, right? I mean, Daddy gets to say goodbye because he probably won't be home till late.

That's when I noticed Beloved had this... interesting expression on her face. Pain, lots of it. It seems she had managed to pull a muscle in her neck. Enough that even twisting slightly caused enough agony to start her crying.

That's actually how I knew she wasn't faking it. Beloved doesn't normally cry. It takes a lot to get her going, but seeing actual tears...

So what's a husband to do but call off his day with the boys and spend the day with his boys?

Which is what I did of course. Instead of drill and drinking, it was coloring pictures with my sons and watching a Scooby-Doo movie while dealing with the household chores to keep Beloved from straining her neck too much.

Of course, the odd thing was that her neck was well enough to go out winter clothes shopping for herself and the boys while I took care of them either at the store or at the house. Maybe I should check for a bottle of fake tears?

It's Time for Me to Get Learned

I have a confession to make. I'm functionally illiterate.

8 years in Japan and I have what could be termed as a 1st grade reading level (Literally, I know all the first grade kanji, beyond that things go downhill).

Oh, sure, I have excuses. I wasn't supposed to stay in Japan. I've been busy with school, wife, kids, life and just don't have the hours needed per day to devote to learning the four difference scripts of Japanese (Yes, you read that right, the Japanese use four different systems... interchangeably). And of course the old standby, three of the scripts are easy, the fourth, kanji, the Chinese characters that were adopted in Japan for their main writing system is hell.

The list needed to be considered literate is over 2,000 separate character long. Normally Japanese are even literate until they get through junior high and even then, that list is just the start. It's not enough for understanding other more specialized kanji that one might use if he happens to normally be college educated. And it gets worse of course, not only are the kanji a mishmash of random lines, but they have multiple meanings and multiple readings depending on if they are read in Japanese or their original Chinese pronunciation that has been changed into Japanese.

It's enough to conclude that the best thing to do is forget the bloody kanji and just stick with English, problematic as that language is.

The thing is though... Japan is now my home. And yes, you can say all you want about immigrants needing to learn the language and I will be more than happy to come back with all sorts of facts for you, but honestly... where I have been, being able to hold a basic conversation about daily events is not enough. It's not enough that I am reliant on Beloved to this extent (And indeed it is not, in many ways, Beloved doesn't have two small children, she has three). It's not enough that very quickly both my sons will surpass my ability to read as they already have in speaking Japanese.

So, I swallowed my pride and for my birthday asked that I be given "Remembering the Kanji" which is a study guide that people either swear by or at. So far, I'm a swear by guy. The damn thing works. It breaks down the kanji into what the author calls primitives and then helps you assign keywords and a memory aid in terms of a story or image to help you recall and write. It also helped that I ended up finding a website with a community devoted to this model and when I can't come up with my own story or dislike the one in the book, I can borrow (Read steal) a host of others.

And yes, it is working in 11 days I've managed to memorize over 200 kanji. Not bad at all.

It helps to keep my eye on the prize, the idea of being able to read the printed material around me and using that to help improve my Japanese. To be able to converse with my in-laws without Beloved translating, and to be able to help my sons with their school work, beyond English.

The other thing that helps is, well, Beloved and the boys. Although probably not in ways that they really know about, or would like. Yes, they got me the books, but I admit that I have been making free use of them to make up stories. The kanji for 'Child' for example 子 becomes Makoto or Hikaru on Beloved's back. Another kanji that means "But of course" and is made up of the kanji for water and elder brother invokes me asking Hikaru "Did you need to pour water on your elder brother?!" "But of course, Daddy!".

Even one I just learned today, portent works with the story of "When big hairs grow on my wife's legs, it's a bad portent".

And if she ever reads this, it will be a self-fulfilling one. 

Makoto and Vampires, and Nekkied Boobs! Oh Myyyy!

Makoto wanted a vampire movie.

I really don't know why. I mean, the kid was playing with the flashcards that I was using for my Halloween lessons and it does have a vampire in it, but just from that one cartoony image, he decides that he needs a scary vampire movie.

What we ended up doing was heading over to the local video store (Yes, they still have them in Japan, but this rents movies, CDs, games, and sells books too) to look for some Halloween films that would be scary enough for a 5-year-old without getting into both-children-are-now-permanently-attached-to-Daddy's-leg kind of scary. Obviously this would take some fine line walking and for the light of me, I couldn't remember a single vampire film that didn't either get way too scary (Fright Night or Lost Boys), too emo (Interview with the Vampire) or just wander into no... just no territory (Twilight). What I thought was just skipping the whole vampire bit and going for Disney's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Now I might be a bit odd, but that cartoon scared the dickens out of me when I was a little boy and I remember any number of nightmares about being chased by the headless horseman.

Yes, THIS gave me nightmares, THIS!

Oddly enough, the bad part of the dreams wasn't the idea that he would cut off my head, but that he would show me what was down his neck.

Alas, even for a country that loves Disney, we couldn't find it. We also couldn't find the original Dracula or Frankenstein (But we could find Young Frankenstein, which for some reason was in the horror section). We did get Nightmare Before Christmas, but Makoto was hankering for a scary movie and kept 'suggesting' various titles (I.e. picking them out at random). It was a constant stream of "How about this?" (Child's Play) "No." "This?" (Friday the 13th Part I) "No." "This one?" (Paranormal Activity) "Oh heck no!" Meanwhile of course Hikaru, having wandered over to the SF section was pointing out the movie he recognized. "Superman! Superman! Superman! Superman!" and trying to fly like the hero.

THIS was his choice

Finally, time growing short, Makoto handed me "Vampires: The Turning" and I didn't know anything about it. So of course we grabbed it, and Superman II and went home. The plan was, ok, I'll check the movie online before showing it too Makoto just in case it was too scary or had anything that wouldn't go over well.

What I read on IMDb wasn't exactly recommending the film as something a 5-year-old would be wise to see. For one thing, it was supposed to be the third film in John Carpenter's Vampires series. I had seen the first film, even read the original book. I liked the first film a lot, it was a good vampire flick, scary, action packed, and very enjoyable... for a college guy. For a young boy... Uh... Well, not only was it a really scary movie, but well... the language leaves a lot to be desired, especially in terms of little boys who mimic everything they hear (Yeah, having Hikaru say "cocksucker" would go over really well with Beloved), and of course I did remember that just about every single female in that movie ends up extremely naked. Sometimes it seems like it you were a woman in that film, your clothes would spontaneously combust just so we could see your bust.

This wasn't something that was looking good.

But hark! Apparently this was the bastard red-headed step-child of the Vampires series and one that John Carpenter had nothing to do with. One it was set in Thailand and featured a different take on things, and two it was mostly a martial arts film. The problem I did have was twofold. One, Makoto was demanding to be allowed to see his scary vampire movie and two, there was this entry in the IMDb:

There is a scene where the Stephanie Chao "a good vampire" bites a willing person that wants to be temporarily turned to save his girlfriend and then has sex with him.
They fall in love and she bites and kisses his neck at the same time repeatedly.
Next scene seconds later: Stephanie Chao is having sex on the man nude (Breasts and nipples) are seen and she is riding him while he is turning into a vampire. Sex, nudity, and graphic sexuality seen.

 This put me in a bit of a bind. Beloved and I have talked about the day that will eventually come when we've got to explain to our sons about the birds and bees. I, personally, plan to take a page from my mother and I'm waiting for them to either ask me where babies come from, or around age 10ish or so, whichever comes first. In the mean time however, what I don't want to do is suggest to either of my sons that their bodies are somehow shameful or dirty. I really dislike that bit about various cultures that we tell children that they need to hide this part of them. It's one thing to explain that it's what we do as it's socially required, but... well... It just doesn't seem right to tell a boy that his penis is dirty so he shouldn't touch it. Or that sex itself is somehow shameful or disgusting and needs to be hidden.

I'm not trying to say I want my sons to be exhibitionists or to go out scoring chicks (Or guys, depending) every night. Indeed, when the time comes my rules are going to be very firm: I would like you to wait until marriage or at least in a long term relationship. Even if you choose not to follow my wishes, you WILL use protection even if I have to buy it for you myself. And if you DO happen to impregnate a girl, you will support her and respect her wishes or else you will learn the truth of the phrase 'I brought you into the world and I can damn well take you out of it'. What I am trying to say however is that I want my sons to have a healthy attitude about sex, their bodies, and their sexuality because I feel that not being ashamed or scared of it makes them far more likely to be knowledgeable and to talk to me about it instead of listening to the grapevine and assuming that, really, if the girl jumps up and down really hard afterwards she won't get pregnant.

That said, at age 5, this isn't the talk we need to have right this minute and I don't plan to get a subscription to some of the more interesting magazines in Japan to provoke that talk.

Which came back to the problem... This movie had a sex scene, with naked boobies. And Makoto wanted to watch it. I didn't want to just say no because I didn't want him to take away the lesson of shame, etc. But on the other hand... I didn't want to start this up right now. And there was the violence factor as well, I don't want him exposed to too much of it (Something that finally dawned on me while watching The Dark Knight on TV one night. After the Joker's 'magic trick' it occurred to me that my sons really shouldn't be watching this yet).

There was one compromise I could see to allow Makoto to see his scary vampire film and to make sure things didn't get into areas either violent or sexual that I didn't want him to deal with yet. I would watch the movie with him, remote in hand. I figured it if started getting a bit too much... we'll skip.

Besides, as I said to Beloved, if he does get a boobie shot, at least it's an Asian boob and nothing he hasn't seen before... which prompted Beloved to smack me.

So we settled down, got ready to watch the third instillation of the Vampires series... Makoto's scary vampire movie picked out of the horror section at the video store next to such thrillers as Paranormal Activity and Ring.

It.

Was.

So.

Bad.

We're talking Mystery Science Theater fodder here. We're saying beyond b-grade. We're saying a lead actor whose acting range was pretty much a constant expression of "fierce determination" (Or possible constipation  it's hard to say which). We're talking about a plot that makes less than no sense, actions that make even less sense than that, and vampires that mostly just wander around to smile and show off their teeth and contacts.

CHEEESE!

Yeah... I very quickly forgot worrying about Makoto being frightened about the vampires or the so-called martial arts or dirt bike chases and instead just proceeded to make fun of how gut achingly bad this movie was. Even Makoto could sense that something was off and was giggling through most of it.

And yes, when we did get to the sex scene, it too was so bad that I don't think Makoto even noticed, especially on fast forward. Beloved even wandered over to toss me a look that said plainly "This was what we were worried about?!"

So, I protected my sons against the dangers of violence and sexuality until they are old enough to handle them better... I think though that at least Makoto can handle bad movies, especially if Daddy is near by to help with the MST'ing.

There's just one thing to say to that:

Push the button, Frank!

This is Halloween!

Japan has imported a few holidays. Mother's Day and Father's Day more or less survive with how they are celebrated elsewhere (Though as I have written, Father's Day seems to have become a sneaky way for moms to get an extra day off). Valentine's Day and Christmas have been changed quite a bit as various aspects of Japanese businesses have latched on to them for use to promote their products, chocolate for Valentine's Day and the hotel and fried chicken industry for Christmas (More on that in December), which leads to a bit of a struggle on my part because I want my sons to know the holidays for what they actually are and not think of KFC when Christmas rolls around.

But then there's Halloween, my favorite holiday.

And one that hasn't, quite, figured out what to do with itself.

It's not from lack of trying mind you, if anything the elements are already there. Japan loves a good scare. Japan abounds with monsters and ghosts a plenty, it has no issue with the idea of dressing up in costume, and it does have a sweet tooth, if not as sweet as Americans. It even has a holiday season akin to Halloween, O-Bon when the spirits of the dead return and bring with them ghosts and goblins. That could be Japan's problem actually, everything that Halloween is can be found in native Japanese holidays and customs at other times of year. But the idea of Halloween has been growing, pushed on not so much by a Japanese company looking to sell something, but due to hordes of Americans who have been teaching in Japan on the JET Programme and other related endeavors.

As part of the notion of internationalization and culture sharing, just about every AET, American or not, has had to conduct some kind of Halloween lesson or party over here. With varying degrees of enthusiasm no doubt, but they have been done and slowly, it's been growing. 8 years ago and you couldn't find anything Halloween related, now even the local grocery store stocks some themed candy. 8 years ago and I had to send to the US for my costume, this year I was flabbergasted at the display over at local store that included actual make-up kits and costumes that were not Christmas related (One of my fondest memories was helping at a Halloween event my first year in Japan just to see kids dressed up as Santa Claus). It's not the Halloween stores at home, or even Wal*Mart, but it's getting bigger.

That said, we still do not have the concept of trick-or-treating over here yet, at least not a general one ala the US. So what is a Halloween loving parent to do to help his sons get this most wonderful of holidays?

It's a start!

Simple, if the Mohammed won't wander over to the mountain, the mountain is going to continue as if it was still in the US, with some slight changes. Which means that I spent most of October getting the house ready for Halloween, building a mini (by that I mean 4 tombstones) graveyards and trying to find various Halloween decorations, much to the pleasure of the boys. It means hanging a Happy Halloween banner in the living room along with a paper jack-o-lantern (Causing Hikaru to spend most of October going around saying "Happy Halloween! Jack-o-lantern!" over and over again).

Scooping pumpkins

It means 45 minute trips to find orange pumpkins for carving instead of the small green ones for eating that Japan sells. It means getting costumes from America for the boys, renting some movies, and carving 5 different jack-o-lanterns (3 for the home, two for the various schools). And of course it means finding a way for my sons to experience the ultimate (For a kid) in Halloween, trick-or-treating.

Happy Halloween in Shiojiri

Unfortunately, that meant going to Happy Halloween in Shiojiri, probably the largest Halloween event in Japan, and one that grew out of a Halloween party put on by an AET some time ago. It's also somewhat of a madhouse. You have thousands of people crammed into a little area with various events, some of which are even related to Halloween, going on and in the middle of it, trick-or-treating. But, I have two sons, one dressed as a pirate, one dressed as a cute little skeleton, and myself... the overly large gaijin dressed in a very scary skull mask... surely... we could get through this.

I admit, they were very cute!

What became apparent very quickly was that we were causing a rather quixotic reaction in people, depending on who they saw first. If it was the boys, "KAWAIIIIIII" (Cute!) was the reaction. If it was me, "KOWAI!" (Scary!) so we went along trying to find our candy stations with shouts of "Kawaii" "Kowai" "Kawaii" "Kowai" "Kawaii" "Kowai" "Kawaii" "Kowai" "Kawaii" "Kowai" echoing around us. It actually got to be a bit of a problem as a number of people tried to make off with Hikaru (Being the overly cute one) and I had a bunch of people who assumed that I was so scary, I must be part of the staff and were following me around to see when I would be handing out candy, or doing something entertaining, myself.

Actually, the bad part was that I could do nothing. I have no qualms, even when not on the clock, of adding in a good scare, but Hikaru was jittery enough and I didn't want him freaking out at a scary Daddy so... All I could do was stand there and just look spooky.

Given that I caused a few kids to cry, that was apparently enough.

But we did have a good time and much candy was gotten. Even better from the boys' point-of-view, we went out for ramen afterwards, while still in costume and all without Mommy (Which means they got to rub it in when they got home that Mommy missed out on delicious ramen).

The loot

It might not quite be the same as home, and this Wednesday all we will do is light our jack-o-lanterns as I have class and trick-or-treating is done, but... I think it's a start. After all, Makoto is already planning for what he wants to be for next year and having demonstrated carving pumpkins to some friends, they want to start carving next year too. Slowly, ever so slowly, we're bringing in Halloween, properly.

Everybody scream!

Happy Halloween!

The Stereotypical Writer's Block Blog Post

Yeah, I'm going there.

What's annoying is that there's so many things I can write about, but I want to wait on. Halloween is coming up and the boys and I have been busy with many related projects, but... given that Halloween Japan isn't the same as Halloween America and we'll be finishing up via our trick or treat'ing on Saturday... I wanted to wait a bit.

Then there's the bit about my kanji studies, the torture of working on these damn squiggly lines because after 8 years in Japan, I'm tried of having a literacy rate that is below Makoto (Who is currently teaching himself how to read Japanese). To that end I've gone the Remembering the Kanji method, which I admit so far so good, even though I am more than slightly confused as to just how and why a mouth with a shellfish equals a pop song, but since Beloved is also confused, that makes me feel better. I could rant on that for a wee bit, but... Well, it hasn't even been a week, surely I should make some more progress before stating anything.

I wanted to talk about school lunches and the differences between American grub and Japanese grub... But, I need to get a picture of Japanese grub and my students eat too quickly for that to happen.

We've been to the park again, and of course Thanksgiving is going to come with my first attempt at cooking a traditional turkey dinner for my in-laws, but that too should wait until we get more done.

Add in the boys have actually been behaving themselves and... well... we're busy, but it's the kind that doesn't lead to anything, we're just waiting right now.

So I sit and stare at a blank page and wonder just what to write, given that I've been tossed off my schedule by being busy to work towards these various goals.

Kinda funny, really, Fall is the busy season for us with birthdays, holidays, last minute travel, and getting ready for winter and yet while we're busy filling up the days, hours, minutes, and seconds of our lives it hasn't been with anything to talk about.

So, for those still reading this, I ask that you bear with me and expect a much longer post tomorrow or the day after when the boys and I come back from our Halloween treats.

When Lady Mondegreen Sings

For those of you who don't know what a mondegreen is, may I suggest a quick look at Wiki? Now I am notorious when it comes to mondegreens, probably as a result of my hearing. For the longest time I thought that song "Reach Out, I'll Be There" by The Tremeloes was actually "Oliver" and I was always confused as to just why Oliver needed to be reached out to, or if he was reaching, but either way...

And let's not get into the time when I informed my wife that the refrain to a SMAP song was sake bananas.

But a mere adult cannot hope to possibly match the masters of mondegreens, children. Given limited vocabulary and thus a small problem with anticipating the correct words and, well, the results can be rather humorous.

Take for example my two sons. Hikaru loves to sing, what we mostly sing are Thomas (Engine Roll Call) or the Japanese version of Country Road. Makoto's song list is of course slightly longer, but not exactly correct. Last night when coming out of the bath, a naked and dripping Hikaru launched into Engine Roll Call that sounded more like:

They 2 They 4 They 6 They 8
Na na na na na having fweght
Red blue brown
Na na na na na na na
Na na na na play
na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Thomas Thomas Thomas
Thomas he's cheek one
Hiro
James
Hikaru
Kakoto
Toby Toby Toby Toby

They 2 They 4 They 6 They 8
Na na na na na having fweght
Red blue brown
Na na na na na na na
Na na na na play
na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na
Thomas Thomas Thomas

Which isn't bad for a two year old, but hearing his beloved song mangled so brought out a naked and dripping Makoto who belted out:

They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight
Hunting trucks and hauling weight
Red and green and brown and blue
They're the Really Use Crew
All with different moles to play
Round Tinder Sheds or far away
Down the hills and round the fence
Thomas and his friends

Thomas, he's the cheeky one
James is pain but lots of fun
Percy pulls the rails on time
Gordon hunkers down the line
Emily really knows her stuff
Henry huffs and huffs and puffs
Edward wants to help and share
Toby, well let's say he's square

They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight
Hunting trucks and hauling weight
Red and green and brown and blue
They're the Really Use Crew
All with different moles to play
Round Tinder Sheds or far away
Down the hills and round the fence
Thomas and his friends

Which, again, ain't that bad for a 5 year old, except that he did get a few words wrong and when challenged I had to sing:

They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight
Shunting trucks and hauling freight
Red and green and brown and blue
They're the Really Useful Crew
All with different roles to play
Round Tidmouth Sheds or far away
Down the hills and round the bends
Thomas and his friends

Thomas, he's the cheeky one
James is vain but lots of fun
Percy pulls the mail on time
Gordon thunders down the line
Emily really knows her stuff
Henry toots and huffs and puffs
Edward wants to help and share
Toby, well let's say he's square

They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight
Shunting trucks and hauling freight
Red and green and brown and blue
They're the Really Useful Crew
All with different roles to play
Round Tidmouth Sheds or far away
Down the hills and round the bends
Thomas and his friends

Which of course brought out a dripping and naked Beloved to congratulate me on learning the words to Thomas the Tank Engine so well.

Bathroom singing at its finest folks!

Feeling My Age

So tomorrow I turn 34. Oyaji-hood (Oyaji being Japanese for old man with old fart feel) comes closer with each year. And, admittedly  I feel my years more as I spend time trying to case down two hyperactive boys who seemingly are powered by micro-perpetual motion machines.

Seriously, how can a two year old run that fast for that long? Shouldn't he stop sometime? And the 5 year old? He never stops, even when he's asleep!

But, yes, I know it's not quite mid-thirties, but it's close enough. And after next year? Well then I'll be closer to reaching my next decade than starting it. A middle age, out of it, uncool, over weight, uninteresting dad am I.

If I may borrow a phrase from some dear friends, screw that, sideways, with the rotating cactus.

I think, if anything, the lesson I can take from my grandparents was that one really is as old as you act. This isn't to say that my grandfather was a childish man, far from it, but until shortly before his death, he just never stopped going out and doing things. And yeah, I admit that chasing after young boys is tiring, that I look forward to the notion of taking a breather more than before, but it's also... new. If being 34 means that I've seen the world around me (My area of it at least) many times, having two boys who are in the exploring stage means I get to experience it all again for the first time. I've been camping up the ying-yang, it's new for the boys and their excitement is now mine. I already know about the solar system, they don't and they are excited to learn about it (Well, Makoto is. I'm not too sure Hikaru has actually noticed the heavens yet).

I mean, sure, I long since passed the obsession I had with trains... until I had boys who are now interested in them and while I may grumble a bit about it, I don't mind going to watch them with them and experience the joys of rail watching again. I might get tired, but I end up feeling young.

But it's more than that. Yeah, I'm approaching the mid-point of my life and while it seems that I should be frustrated with the dreams that haven't happen and will never happen, those roads not taken as Robert Frost labeled them, I'm not. Instead... I want to see what happens next with my sons, my wife, my family. This could be, perhaps, because I didn't have my own father growing up so I have no real pattern to follow or to see in regards to fatherhood from toddlerhood to teenage years, but I don't think so. Instead, well, let me relate an essay in the book I Should Have Seen it Coming When the Rabbit Died by Teresa Bloomingdale.

I'm fairly sure the book was given to my mother as a babyshower gift and as was my wont, I read it a few times when growing up (This isn't unusual, for me. I read everything, including the backs of cereal boxes). It was pretty much a forerunner of this blog, a humorous take on parenthood (Motherhood in her case). Any case, the final chapter was called "Growing Old Along With Me, the Best is Yet to Be". In a bit of a change from the humor, the author related that while she was growing up at each milestone of her life when she proclaimed that this, THIS, was the peak of her life, her father would always reply "Just wait, it gets better". She related how she graduated from college, how proud she was and yet her father said wait, it gets better. She fell in love and got married, but just wait. She had the joy of being a new mother, holding her first son in her arms, but again her father said that it would get better.

The final bit was her at the wedding of her eldest son, watching this man whom she bore grow from a child to a man strong and proud who found a wonderful woman and who was now going to marry. She said silently to her departed father, if I recall correctly, "Oh Dad, you were right. This truly is the best. And I swear I heard him answer from up above, "That's what you think sweetheart!" Amazing, all this and heaven too!"

I am not at that point yet, but every day something new happens and while I might not always remember to appreciate it, I do. Tomorrow I turn 34, and in those 34 years I have lost my father, grown, graduated from college with a MA, moved halfway around the world, met the most wonderful woman on the planet, become a teacher, built a house, and have two beautiful little boys who are now on life's journeys of their own.

I ain't slowing down and getting old, I's just starting!

The best is yet to be and I can't wait to see what it will be.

Looking Cool for Your Family

Yeah... I'm a geek. My fashion sense, was at one time at least, black boots, black jeans, a black t-shirt that was either anime or computer related, and topped off with a black trench coat.

Then I got married.

Beloved does not appreciate geek fashion to say the very least and I've found it is easier to agree to slight modifications over the years instead of arguing about it. The black trench got left behind in Nevada (Although I have gained a brown Driza-Bone). The black jeans have been traded in for blue ones, the black boots are now brown and closer looking to moccasins instead of combat. While I've kept the black t-shirts, they've changed into slightly less geeky designs, Suntory Whisky for example.

I have kept the black sunglasses though.

Again, it was easier than enduring a number of complaints from Beloved, not to mention that clothes shopping usually comes every few years in my case and usually when everyone else is getting things. It's much better to go along with one's wife than having to watch her sulk in the store and refuse to get into the car with you if you don't put that pair of black jeans back where you found them.

Compromise is the name of the game for a good marriage, no?

That's what I thought at least until Beloved unveiled her big plan to change me into Johnny Depp, and it all started with my beard.

For most of my life I didn't wear one. Oh, sure, I started shaving, but just never really wore a beard. Part of it was that I couldn't get past the "It feels like all of my face is itching!" phase, and part of it was Beloved. She claimed she didn't like beards. When I'd get lazy and let the whiskers grow she'd start kvetching about sandpaper in uncomfortable places. But with my last visit back stateside, I decided what the hell, I would grow a beard. I mean, I could always shave it off if I didn't like it.

Besides, it was summer and I didn't want to have to shave. After about a week and a half of not, I was getting pretty hairy about the face and Beloved was starting up her usual complaints. That's when I suggested that, yes, I could keep it, but I would style it, you know, shape the thing so I was less caveman style.

THAT is a beard!

What I wanted was Benjamin Sisko style (See? Geek!). I've always thought that Avery Brooks in the last years of Deep Space Nine just looked awesome and the beard was definitely a part of it. I wasn't willing to shave my head, but I could go for the beard. Beloved however wasn't happy with the results. Her compromise was beard OK, but George Michael please.

Yeah, no

Which left me slightly confused as good 'ol George, when he played for the closing ceremony for the London Olympics, had a full beard like the one I just shaved off. But, no, said Beloved, what she meant was George Michael from around 1998, when he had this Fu Manchu thing going with strip of a soul patch/goatee. She even got me a beard trimmer for our anniversary to pull this off. The result was, well, my mother-in-law burst out laughing when she saw it.

Obviously I was not George Michael.

Back to Google went Beloved to discover the perfect model. Which turned out to be Johnny Depp. Which of course my first reaction was, "You want me to look like Captain Jack Sparrow?!" Alas, no, she's not into the dangleies, but the actor. I admit that, yes, the beard does look good on me for the most part and I've enjoyed having it, but there was more to come.

Not this

This

First was the suggestion that I get myself a hat, a fedora to be precise, that was a no, no thank you.

Then came the glasses. My reading glasses were well over 5 years old and as of late I had been having some issues with seeing blurry patches after long bouts of computer use or reading. A bit concerned, I took myself to the optometrist for an eye exam. Sadly she returned a diagnosis that was horrible in the extreme; namely, I'm just getting old.

She did say however that, yes, my glasses probably needed an upgrade. Besides, the frames on the old pair were bent in the extreme after Hikaru got a hold of them one night.

Thus was the next part of Beloved's plan unleashed. Beloved was coming along with me to make sure that I, in her words, 'picked out something cool'. Because, yes, her plan is indeed to change me into Johnny Depp. Something, in fact, that she is rather proud of having a number of other mothers come up to her during Makoto's Sports Day to talk about how her husband now looks like Johnny Depp and how unfair it is because they married a Japanese guy who will never look like Johnny Depp no matter how hard they try.

Well, there was one mother who's rather a fan of The Matrix who wants me to show up in black boots, black jeans, black shirt, black trench, and my black sunglasses to pick up Makoto one day. At least someone wants me to geekout!

This of course raised some howls of protest from me. I mean, I mean... I mean... I. AM. A. GEEK! I am not Johnny Depp and the only real Johnny Depp thing I could possibly see me ever pull off would be Jack Sparrow. "But," said Beloved, "don't you want to look cool? I want you to look cool for me and you said you'd do anything to make me happy, right?"

I admit that I did, but...

"And," she continued, "You want your sons to have a cool father, right?"

Now wait a minute here....

"And they want a cool Daddy, right?"

To which Makoto and Hikaru, who are now being written out of my will, responded with "Yes!"

Out numbered, I said I would consider it.

In the end, we compromised. Yes, Beloved (And a very enthusiastic Makoto) picked out the frames for my glasses, but I did have veto power and I insisted that the damn things be black.

And, yes, I have to admit, I don't look half bad in them. But I will remember this, and I will remember Beloved saying how changing a partner is a great way to have fun.

I think I'm gonna get myself the Victoria's Secret catalog and have some 'fun' myself.

Either that, or Beloved's next Christmas present will be a t-shirt, in black, proclaiming that she loves her geek. Hey, I can compromise.

Gift Giving Wars

A bit late on the bandwagon with this one, but the San Francisco Chronicle's mother's blog, The Mommy Files, had a rather cute story the other day. The short of it was a new set of parents with 14 week old twin boys (Boy are they gonna have a lot of fun) took a cross country flight from San Francisco to DC and in an attempt to pacify the passengers in case they failed to pacify their sons passed out bags of candy with cute little notes attached and an offer of earplugs.

Now I can sympathize with the parents, traveling with kids is difficult sometimes and I admit that my experience with public transportation, such as trains, buses, and planes, has brought home that many non-parents tend to view any child who is having a problem as some kind of crime against humanity.

As an aside, on my last trip home, I requested an aisle seat and was told that the only one left was next to a baby. The ticket agent cringed when she told me this, expecting do doubt that I would start ranting about having to be near a child, I just grinned and informed her I have two small boys... kid noises are NOT a problem.

I'm not too sure I agree with the need to hand out goodies, feeling that kids should have the same chances to go places as adults do, and at least you can understand why they are crying as opposed to the 'adults' who get smashed and loudly talk, but it's a nice gesture nonetheless. What was interesting for me though was how... Japanese it seemed, even though I have no idea if the parents are Japanese or not.

Japan is a land of gifts. You go somewhere, you bring back hordes of small gifts to hand out. You arrive somewhere, gifts. You need a favor, gifts. You cause a problem, gifts. You're born, enter school, graduate, get married, and/or die, you give and get gifts. It's summer or winter, gifts (Though this is dying out). Sometimes it seems as if the whole of the nation is currently working on a rather large bribery system.

Now it should be noted that we're, usually, not talking about large amounts of gifts. Coming back from my in-laws, I got my fellow teachers a box of orange cookies from my wife's hometown. That was acceptable, just as other teachers who went out and about brought in something small to snack on from wherever the winds took them. Our neighbors got something slightly larger, my private students something smaller, it all works out in the end.

Except when it doesn't.

Japan has some rather intricate rules regarding gifts that no one, not even the Japanese, seem to be fully aware of. When to give a gift and to whom usually is pretty simple. But sometimes... Well, sometimes gift giving wars happen. Gift giving wars happen when the party of the first part gives a gift to the party of the second part that the second part feels was way too much for the event in question. In other words, if the parents above had handed out small bottles of whiskey, many Japanese would feel that it would be far, far too much for such a small inconvenience. Then, well, then the balance has been disturbed and MUST be rectified. So the party of the second part returns with a gift of their own. But if the party of the first feels that THAT gift was way too much, well then the balance must be restored by giving another gift.

Wash, rinse, and repeat.

Fire, Whiskey, and Wine!

I think I've got a new oath to proclaim when annoyed. I have a few that I keep in stock to haul out whenever the situation calls for it, "Blood and Shale!" (Via the wombat), or "Skuld's Holy Hammer!" (An Ah! My Goddess reference if you're feeling lost) for example. sometimes I mix languages and go for "Nan da Hell?" just for variety and of course there's the good ol' fashion stand-bys of "Bleeping Bleep of a Bleep!" which is usually not said bleeped of course.

Well, it used to not be. Now I've got to watch the language given the two parrots that live with me and myself also having no wish to have to revive my Beloved after she faints from shock from hearing that tumble from her sons' innocent lips.

But I think I can now add in "Fire, Whiskey, and Wine!" as a new one, and for good reason.

Hazmat on the scene!

September 1st was Japan wide disaster drills, it being the 89th anniversary of the Great Kanto Earthquake that leveled Tokyo back in 1923. This year, our neck of the woods was chosen for being the drill site. Now when I saw drill site, I mean something a wee bit more impressive than it sounds. The elementary school was transformed into a disaster of epic proportions that involved the local fire departments, the local volunteer fire fighters (Which was why I was there), the police departments, paramedics  Hazmat, DMAT (Japan's Disaster Medical Assistant Team), Search and Rescue, the Japan Ground Self Defense Force, the gas, water, and electrical departments, local media (Both reporting the event and acting as media during a disaster to provide info), the city's mayor and council, and about a good 200 people acting as victims or volunteers to help out.

Fighting fires... or trees. Either or.

During the event, we were covering what would happen should a major earthquake strike the elementary school, then moved on to injured people, collapsed buildings, flooding, broken water and gas pipes, avalanches, a typhoon, more fires, and a spill of some kind, all within an hour and a half. I don't think we had a drill for an attack by Godzilla, but we might have and I just missed it. Of course, while the drills are going on and we have firetrucks, ambulances, Humvees, and helicopters going around and about, the city was using the fact that a number of people showed up to conduct some education so we also had various simulators for quakes, fires, etc. Chaotic doesn't even begin to describe it, but I guess even THAT helps with getting into the swing of things should something actually happen.

This never happened

So the fire part of my oath was a literal fire, or a few of them, that we were using to train on, in uniform, under the hot sun. After it was all said and done, we also got to set the elementary school back to what it's supposed to be and so we spent about an hour cleaning the grounds so that come Monday, the kids wouldn't know that a helicopter landed on their field.

Such hard work, my company commanded stated, requires us to have a party as a reward. Thus part two, whiskey. A true Japanese BBQ soon commenced, and by true, I mean all of us sitting around grills, cooking slices of beef and drinking whiskey and other hard drinks, and a lot of them. Fun? Yes. Even when it started to rain and we continued to still sit outside, drink whiskey, tell ribald jokes, and eat beef it was fun. But after a rather large amount of whiskey, the clock told me it was time to head home.

Why, you may ask?

Because my day wasn't over yet... The international club was having wine tasting that night that I was expected, as a wine lover, to attend. So I capped out the evening with two glasses of wine and a number of rich foods for the savor of it all. Needless to say, I arrived back at the house with Beloved and the boys having a hard time walking straight and more or less fell into my futon determined to sleep.

But at least I got to use my new oath straight away with "Fire, whiskey and wine! 6:30 is too early in the morning for you guys to wake up!"

Sadly, the boys felt that no, no it wasn't and in fact, it was time for Daddy to wake up and play with them, even if he was feeling slightly delicate that morning.

Boobs = Lunch, or World Breastfeeding Week

I missed it, which is sad. I wish I had known about it sooner in order to say something about it.

August 1st through 7th is World Breastfeeding Week. Now this is something that, normally, dads just aren't that involved with, for obvious reasons.

That said, I think that more dads need to come out more about it. We need to support our partners in this. Yes, there are medical reasons, personal reasons, a whole host of reasons, why a woman might choose to not breastfeed, or only do so for a short time (For the record, both boys breastfed for a year, right up until growing teeth made it more than a bit uncomfortable and even then they DID get formula), but if your mate chooses to breastfeed, we should damn well support them.

When Beloved was tired, she still breastfed. When she was hungry, she still breastfed. In public, who cares? It's time to pop the boob out and feed that baby. And thankfully, Japan understands this notion. Breasts do not always = fun sacks that guys can enjoy, they also mean lunch to a hungry baby. In Japan, we simply don't see the hang-ups in the US about OMG! NEKKID BOOBS! Kids don't have to eat under a blanket, they're not asked to dine while their mom sits on a toilet because someone might get a red, puffy, nipple flashed at them while the kid is attempting to get at the good stuff.

In fact, truth be known, the ONLY time we had an issue with it was when we visited the US with Makoto and he needed to nurse. Then we had to try and find an out of the way place for this while Makoto screamed because in his mind, he shouldn't have to be waiting for food.

So, guys, this is why I say we've got to step up. It's not a woman's thing, it's a guys thing. We've got to state, hey, that's MY mate and MY kid and damn it, she can nurse him anywhere and anywhen and no, it's NOT objectionable, obscene, or anything other than a hungry kid getting lunch. we've got to tell our bosses this, tell our friends this, and tell those who do object this.

Let's remind the world that while a lady's breasts might indeed be a secondary sex characteristic that evolved for reasons beyond being just mammary glands, their primary function is as mammary glands and said glands provide the best start for our children.

I'll do anything for my sons, my wife as well. That's nothing to be ashamed of, it's something to be celebrated.

Faster, Harder, Stronger, The Games of the XXX Olympiad

I didn't know when I proposed to her. Oh sure, there was a few hints, comments about how she wanted to go onto the field and bite the opposing players' arms after a football game, a note that she was somewhat of a hockey fan, but nothing to really tell me that this beautiful Japanese woman was actually a sports fanatic.

And then came the games of the Athens Olympics in 2004, and there Team USA defeated Team Japan in softball. Now, I'm not a sport's follower. Oh sure, I root for the San Francisco Giants as my 'local' team, I follow the Oakland Raiders (I.e. I check the online news about them to know if I should mention them to my step-father or not), and for college sports, I get a bit worked up about it, but usually my feelings can be summed up as my two favorite teams are Nevada and whomever is playing UNLV, but even I had to grin at Team USA's victory and let out a small, "USA!". Not gloating you understand, just enjoying the win...

'WHAP!'

I got hit, hard, by my 'delicate' Japanese wife (Then fiancee).

Beloved is a follower of sports, and one with the normal Japanese reaction of tossing her heart and soul into the teams that she supports. Normally it's not so much of an issue, we both support the Nevada Wolf Pack and I can usually take or leave the various Japanese pro teams, but every two years...

And even then it's not so bad, I can cheer on Japan, though I do refuse to chant "Nippon! Cha! Cha! Cha!", as long as they are competing against other countries, but there will always be a time when it's Japan vs America and thus is WWII refought.

And yes, it gets bad. When Japan beat the US in the World Baseball Classic two out of two, Beloved gloated for two solid weeks. Last year during the Woman's World Cup, I ended up with a text message at 5:30 am while camping from an ecstatic wife that Nadeshiko Japan (It should be noted that the women's soccer team is called Beautiful Ladies and the guys Samurai Blue, kinda tells you all about Japan), beat the United States to hoist the cup.

But come the Olympics when Team USA wins...

'WHAP!' Every victory comes with a faster, harder, and stronger smack as she expresses her displeasure by taking it out on the nearest American on general principle, even if said American happens to be her husband.

I've thought about claiming domestic violence, except that I'm fairly sure that the Japanese police are just as nationalistic sports nuts as my wife.

Of course, what gets worse is adding our sons to the mix. Hikaru is too young to get into it (Though he will point at the TV and exclaim "London! London!" to get the Olympics on), but Makoto is old enough to enjoy setting his parents off and wanders around the house chanting "USA! USA! USA! YEAH!" to get cries of enragement from his mother and "Nippon! Cha! Cha! Cha!" shouted in return loud enough that I am sure some of Team Japan in London looked up suddenly to find out what the racket was.

Then Makoto announced that he wanted to go the Olympics as an Olympian (For the record, he plans to compete in swimming, Judo, soccer, and badminton). Now, being the wise father and knowing that doing so requires him to pick a team (and indeed a nation) I asked him what team he wanted to be on. "Team USA" earned me a glare that toasted my bread quite nicely. Stating to Makoto that to be an Olympian would require him to practice every day before he can stand on that podium and hear the Star Spangled Banner got me another that re-heated my coffee quite nicely.

Really, I don't think it looks that bad

Of course, I can't just let this all slide, even though, again, sports fan is not my name (Geek, yes, Trekkie, yeah, otaku, sure, but not sport's fan). So when I was in America I managed to pick up a car magnet for Team USA. I slipped it onto our minivan, just wondering, more or less, when Beloved would actually notice it.

She did, immediately. More so, I was treated to three days of ranting about how this was unfair that it was on HER car and how she was getting asked uncomfortable questions by other Japanese about why her car has a sticker supporting Team USA and not Team Japan. What drove her nuts was that she couldn't find a Japanese equivalent of that car magnet, no matter how she scoured the Internet. It finally came down to her forgiving me once I made her one out of some printable magnetic paper, a "Gambare! Nippon! logo she found, and a water sealant.

God help me if that sealant doesn't hold and the ink starts to run.

Of course, right now I am living in some apprehension as both Team USA and Nadeshiko Japan are in the quarter finals and expected to advance to the final round. When Team USA takes the gold, I expect that my wife will attempt for a gold of her own by targeting her husband's arm, faster, harder, and stronger.

Fair is fair, I suppose...

And we're back

Not just after these messages.

As previously mentioned, I had to return to the US for a family emergency, namely the final illness of my grandmother. This comes less than a year after rocketing to the US for the exact same reason, that time for my grandfather.

This is one of the things about an international marriage that you don't really think about. I mean, when standing at the alter and seeing your beautiful bride coming down the aisle, you don't really give consideration to the problem of family, especially those members who might not be long for the world.

The thing with needing to return home is that an international flight does not come either cheaply, or quickly (My last minute flight cost the proverbial arm and a leg and ended up with me having to head to Korea first and then fly to the US), and so I got to spend a few days in Japan waiting and hoping that I would be on time, that I wouldn't get off the plane to find out that it was too late.

It's not a fun situation, but it is one that I have freely chosen. I'm not claiming that I have any regrets about deciding with Beloved to stay in Japan and raise our kids here, while the death of my grandmother hurts, I'm content with my choices. Not to mention that if it wasn't me, it would be Beloved when the time comes who would be jetting across the Pacific in the hopes of making it in time for the final illness of one of her family members.

This is the cost of going international, but I just had to look at the faces of my sons and embrace my wife to know it was a cost well worth paying for.

Besides, I did make it on time and my grandmother knew that I was there at the very end and her passing was a peaceful one, nothing else can really be hoped for.

So, yes, I'm back behind the keyboard and will be starting to write again. I'm sure we can get the funny going tomorrow as I describe the joys and trials of the Olympics. But at least I'm back home, in Japan.