Rent-a-Dog

Being a lifelong dog lover, living in the constriction that defines Japanese urban life has forced me to abandon man’s best friend until we move to more spacious environs (or finding a landlord that permits pets).  Under pressure from a dog crazed wife, I finally consented to her pleads to check out a nearby pet grooming academy that lends dogs for two hours, one day, or one month periods.

Leasing a dog seems like a bizarre thing to do, especially if like me you grew up in a suburban area where it seemed like every other family had a dog.  If you didn’t have a dog then your next door neighbor did, or your uncle, so getting some dog time was never very hard.  But here in the metroplex, constraints of time or space or both leave people grasping for whatever animal therapy they can manage.  So renting a dog, even for just a few hours, is a service growing in popularity.

Which leads us to the Yokohama Trimming School a short walk from Shin-Yokohama Station and right around the corner from Shin-Yokohama Ekimae Park.  The school trains and certifies in all elements of dog grooming and beauty, and as a consequence cares for about 25 or so dogs (and several puppies) at their facility.  These are used by students to practice their trimming, hair dying, and nail clipping skills.  Consequently, the effects of recent “beautification” experimentation is plainly evident on the dogs.   All the dogs are also small varieties, mostly Chihuahua, Shih Tzu, Miniature Dachshund, Toy Poodle, ect.  So if your looking to romp around with a St. Bernard your out of luck.  The dogs are shown on the board with a rank for their walking acumen (3 paws being a walking lover, one paw a more pick-me-up and hold me type), you choose one that you like, and after filling out a 500円 membership and deciding on the 2 hour rental plan (also 500円), your on your way.

This being our first rent-a-dog experience, we decided on a manageable, 2 year old, Chihuahua named Momo.  Being pure white, Momo had been subjected to a variety of color motifs on her body.  Her feet and tail were died dark purple, in addition to a heart-shape on her rear, and a pink one on her front neck.  Needless to say I found this a bit disturbing, and even though it was only hair coloring I couldn’t help but think of it a mild form of torture.

Momo had some "dye" practice done on her

Like all the dogs at the school, Momo was very well behaved and obviously very comfortable with strangers taking her for a stroll.  We walked up and down Shin-Yokohama Ekimae Park several times and headed just before the rains came.

Overall, it was a good experience, and taking a two hour walk with a dog is certainly better then taking one without.  Who could argue with that?

Review: The Art of Choosing

The Art of Choosing
The Art of Choosing by Sheena Iyengar
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is one of those rare page turning non-fiction books that is backed up by an immense amount of research, but the wonderful practical research that can engage readers of all types. Iyengar manages to clearly dissect Choice, a ubiquitous element throughout life, and examine it in a way which brings clarity and dispels many of the underlying myths concerning it.

The book moves along at great pace, leading you through the dilemmas of Choice, enlivening research with colorful stories, questionnaires, and wonderful internet reference points that give practicable application to many of the ideas discussed. The most refreshing aspect of this work is that it successfully covers the broad spectrum of Choice, from supermarket shelves to euthanasia, and everything in between. In the end, you’ll have a heightened awareness of the processes involved in the choices (both big and small) that are fundamental to your interaction with the world.

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Streetside Yakitori and a Haircut

What better way to jump start the spring than a quick no fuss haircut and then picking up some yakitori from a street stall on the way home.  It might sound simple but that’s all it takes to get me going.

Because of years of bad hair cut experiences living in South Korea, when I first moved to Tokyo I was hesitant when it came time for my first haircut.  So I went to a nearby QB House, a quick 10 minute/ 1000 Yen, haircuttery, with the necessary Japanese phrases to navigate through the stylists initial questions… and hoped for the best.  To my relief and surprise, the QB staff was able to give me an efficient and well manicured cut.  Most importantly, the haircut matched my non-Asian proportioned head, which has always been a barrier in my past experiences.  Since that first experience was so hassle free, I have (for almost three years) returned monthly to QB House and have consistently walked away pleased.

So once again, this past afternoon, I got my standard men’s haircut in under 10 minutes and then strolled on back towards my apartment spotting the glowing sign of Ajiyoshi’s yakitori stand.

Every week I pass this stand, and every single time I want to take home some yakitori, or at least stand next to the grill and take in the smells.  It’s not that the yakitori itself is anything remarkable, just your standard variety:  ねぎま(negima: chicken and leek), レバ(leba: liver), とりかわ(torikawa: chicken skin), ect.  All for around 150 yen a skewer.  What makes each morsel seem to taste even better is the fact that a 70+ year old grandma is doing the grilling inside a small wooden stall.  The ambiance is great, but my own overactive mind transforms this yakitori into the best in the country, nay… the world.

You see, I’ve created my own narrative about Grandma Yakitori, not backed up by facts or even reality, that gives the yakitori at this relatively nondescript stall some added charm:  Grandma Yakitori, working in tandem with Grandpa Yakitori who handles the money (and only handles the money), has been turning skewers over this grill for nearly half a century.  So long in fact, that her hands have become so disfigured by yakitori grill mishaps and carpal tunnel that she can only do this one task, turning skewers, and do it so flawlessly that she can literally will the flames to do her bidding.

Yakitori Magic in action – Notice the rusty fan, Grandma’s grossly disfigured hands (known as “yakitori hand” in local parlance), and a charcoal grill blackened by time = the holy trinity of yakitori.

There are some magical talismans which allow Grandma Yakitori to create her incredible spectacle.  Most essential are a rusty and uncleaned electric fan, a solitary pull-string light bulb, a hand written menu on yellowing paper thumb-tacked to the back wall, and a pre-war grill (self cleaning?).  All of these create an organically pleasing experience for everyone waiting in line, which is always three persons (no more, no less).

So, after taking in this onslaught of  makeshift gourmet necromancy, I order my  六本(ろっぽん (roppon, 6 skewers) of  ねぎま (negima, chicken and leek), watch as it sizzles on what appears to be two rails from an ancient narrow gauge railway, hand my yen to Grandpa Yakitori (who calculates my change instantly without machine assistance) and then after an almost unbearable amount of waiting (about 5-8 minutes) my order is complete… placed in a reused Tokyu Supermarket plastic bag and courteously handed to me.

When I get home it’s still hot, marinated only with salt and the sweat of Grandma Yakitori… delicious.

Grandpa does his part
negima: chicken and leek

Review: 1776

1776
1776 by David McCullough
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Knowledge of the American Revolution should be a prerequisite for all Americans. However, an understanding of that conflict should not begin with McCullough’s often praised and Pulitzer Prize winning history 1776. As is often the case with works which examines something expansive like the American Revolutionary War but attempt to dissect from it a particular time period, the work becomes a fractured window rather than one which can clearly portray all the elements at work. And that is what 1776 feels like, a fractured piece of historical writing.

What really makes 1776 difficult is, quite simply, its rather bold but ultimately misleading title. The year does hold a great deal of sentimental value for most Americans, but not for any of the military accomplishments of the American forces, which were few. McCullough manages to spend very little time on the Declaration of Independence, the most momentous event of that year, instead focusing entirely on the military campaigns which, aside from Trenton at the very end of the year, were either American retreats, defeats, or non-engagements with little result. After slogging through to the end, there seems very little to be hopeful for in terms of decisive military victory for America as the end result of the conflict, and wonders why 1776 was chosen as a title for a book in the first place. In fact, much of the book deals with events in 1775 as well as the early months of 1777.

Despite all of this, 1776 is a fantastic portrayal of many of the generals on both sides of the conflict, through their correspondence with each other and their particular governments. This is most evident in McCullough’s treatment of General Washington, whose own lack of personal confidence and indecision is revealed repeatedly throughout the text. 1776, was one of the lowest points in Washington’s campaign against the British, and Washington’s correspondences are wonderfully curated to reveal his particular duress but unwavering perseverance.

It is in these character revelations that McCullough is at his best, and if your searching to better understand the minds of many of major military players in the early days of the revolution, than 1776 will do just fine. But understanding the year 1776 from a political, military, international relations, and social-economic perspective requires much further reading.

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Todoroki Valley

In my constant quest to discover green space within the Tokyo-Yokohama Metroplex, I came across one of the more startling contrasts between cityscape and nature at the Todoroki Valley (等々力　渓谷) in Setagaya Ward.

The Todoroki Valley is a walking path approximately 1 km long which follows a small cascading stream and terminates at a beautiful shrine with a small waterfall at its base.  It’s wonderfully maintained with several small side paths and places to picnic along the way.  (We decided to pick up some takeaway sushi from 茶月 next to Todoroki Station prior to descending the steps to the valley path.)

This is not a strenuous hike and there are  no inclines aside from the stairs leading up to the shrine.  So casual hikers and nature deprived salarymen in their suits can easily make this short trek.  While in the Todoroki Valley you are never far from the bustle up above and you can still here the sounds of cars zooming overhead (there is a highway overpass midway through), despite the babbling of the brook and the occasional bird chirp.

Free of charge, with one of the best maintained stream walks in urban Tokyo, the Todoroki Valley makes a nice trip when you need to get away from redundant city life.  Todoroki Station lies on the Tokyu Oimachi Line 3 stops from Jiyugaoka and 1 stop from Futako-Tamagawa.

Todoroki Valley Map

Hanafuda

hanafuda cardsFor many years I have been an avid collector of 花札 (hanafuda, traditional Japanese flower cards). I first became familiar with this unique card game years ago in South Korea, where the game is still intensely played on a regular basis, even on the sidewalks in more rural areas. When I first began living in Japan I was surprised to find that hanafuda is a dying past time. Most young people are barely familiar with it, and only some of the adult population know anything about how to play the game. Unfortunately it has taken on a bit of an underground, shady perception, because of the games dissemination within the yakuza. Because of this, many associate the game with gambling. Still, there are many people (often the older sect) who still enjoy this game as pure entertainment, despite its somewhat dubious reputation.

Classic Hanafuda in Wooden Box from  奥野かるた

All this makes the game very much a niche hobby within its native land, and I have had to learn how to sniff out finding hanafuda cards for sale (an increasingly difficult proposition here in Tokyo) wherever they might be. One can usually find a cheap ￥100 deck at most 100 Yen shops, but for people who really want to get into this incredible and beautiful card game there is one shop I have returned to frequently in Tokyo called 奥野かるた (Okuno Karuta), between 神田(Kanda) and 神保町(Jinbochou). This place is truly the Mecca of all things hanafuda, as well as 株札(kabufuda, an offshoot of hanafuda, with an even more yakuza-oriented past), かるた(karuta), 囲碁(igo), and all things concerning traditional Japanese table games. The second floor doubles as a small museum for more expensive pieces and antique items not for sale.

Disney and One Piece Hanafuda Sets
One Piece and Disney themed Hanafuda

My current collection features a wide variety of styles. I have several inexpensive decks which I use for the casual game (usually こいこい, koi koi is a great two player hanafuda game), in addition to more elaborate collections that I prefer to just admire (and keep them in mint condition). There are Disney and Japanese Manga themed sets, even sets that double as trump cards in case you want to switch card games mid-session. Occasionally you can find a decent quality deck at convenience stores for around ￥1000, and some of the more interesting sets can be found online or at stores like Village Vanguard.

Classic Hanafuda and Kabufuda by Nintendo

Even thought the game is losing followers here in Japan, it’s successful importation to Korea during the colonial period, and to other locales with large Japanese diaspora like Hawaii (check out efforts by Hanafuda Hawaii Style), ensures that the game won’t go extinct anytime soon.

If you like card games that are challenging, involve some randomness, and can be played in a variety of formats (not unlike poker), then give hanafuda a look and get yourself a deck.

Trump/Hanafuda Combo

Review: Chronicles, Vol. 1

Chronicles, Vol. 1
Chronicles, Vol. 1 by Bob Dylan
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Chronicles Vol. 1 has a few moments of insight concerning Dylan’s musical influences and non-linear remembrances from his past, small vignettes that are often unrevealing in regards to the overall scope of the enigmatic artist’s life. This is not an autobiography, and those wishing for a tell-all of the life of one of the most celebrated singer/songwriters in history won’t find much to work with here.

Dylan does ramble at length about the difficulties of fame, his stalkers, and his unwillingness to be a “spokesperson” for anything. That much feels very real and reveals a softer, family oriented Dylan we don’t often see. There are other moments in his writing that fall apart quite spectacularly, especially as Dylan drones on endlessly about some new mathematical algorithm that freed him musically in the mid-80’s, but which he mindlessly doesn’t incorporate into his recollections of performances or in his recordings. He merely explains this new musical epiphany(rather abstractly and without clarity), stops himself short and then skips to some other unrelated period of his life. It’s just one of many hiccups that occur throughout the text, revisiting why Dylan’s previous works, Tarantula most notably, was critically denounced decades ago.

Chronicles Vol. 1 is book-ended by recollections of his early days in New York and his start with Columbia Records. In between is a focus on New Morning (a relatively unessential album) and a painfully long exposition on the frustrating process of recording Oh Mercy. Both these sections show just how difficult it is to write at length about the vagaries of the creative process, something even Dylan can’t do with any real clarity.

Scattered throughout are some interesting moments from Dylan’s past, advice given to him along the way, and friends who lent couches to crash on. It is these small fragments which are the most entertaining, but you have to sift through a lot of nonsense to get to it. Fortunately, the language is not overwhelming and true Dylan aficionados will blaze through the 300 odd pages rather quickly, despite its rather erratic assembly. If you are someone obsessed by Dylan, then surely have a look at Chronicles Vol. 1, otherwise steer yourself to some of the better “unauthorized” biographies out there.

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Review: Tokyo on Foot: Travels in the City’s Most Colorful Neighborhoods

Tokyo on Foot: Travels in the City's Most Colorful Neighborhoods
Tokyo on Foot: Travels in the City’s Most Colorful Neighborhoods by Florent Chavouet
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book called out to me the moment I saw it in the book store. There are numerous books which try to capture the feelings one has when visiting Japan for the first time. Few do it as well as this brightly colored graphic memoir. It is important to note that this is not a sociological study of the Japanese people. The author is not trying to uncover the soul of the Japanese salaryman or revel the Zen of riding the Yamanote Line at rush hour. There are more qualified authors that have tried their hands at such subjects. This is purely an impression of Tokyo, by a sketch artists who had time to kill in various locations throughout the city.

Even as a resident of Japan (2 1/2 years at writing), picking up a book like this can be very refreshing. True, there are many factual errors, and rightly so as the author is not an investigative journalist and was not even employed within Japan when he made his sketches. One wouldn’t expect him to have any great insights into the workings of Japanese society. But if you ever came to Japan for a period of time to just explore, I think many of his observations will strike a chord. If your planning a trip in the future, this could serve as a decent imagery primer before you hit overload at the Shinjuku East Exit.

There is a lot to look at. You can blow through the book in a day or spend an evening looking at one page. It might even encourage you to take up sketching yourself, or at the least teach yourself to be more immersed in your surroundings, whether you plan to stay in a place for a long time or are just passing through. If you enjoyed the movie Lost in Translation, then this book will most likely appeal to you in the same way.

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Micro Man Caves

It’s no secret that space is tight here in the metroplex. Tight, orderly, clean, and tight. Public and private – everything is tighter than things in the West.  It’s basic physics in most respects, and you have to learn to deal with it, or risk a mental breakdown.  When I visited by folks in suburban Pennsylvania last summer, after almost 2 years away, my immediate reaction was to go into the living room, swing my arms wildly and spin around – astonished that I could do both and not hit anyone or anything.  Abundant space is a privilege that many people overlook in my homeland, and now that I have learned to live without it, I find I have become a master craftsman of what I dubbed the “Micro Man Cave”.

"Could I make a Man Cave here?" Not likely...

The “Man Cave”, its creation and enjoyment, is a favorite past time of many of my American friends.  A room, previously not used for any particular purpose, is transformed into a sanctuary where dudes can be dudes, away from their wives.  A little “me” place in the midst of a (what would appear to most Japanese) huge shared space. I have to admit that when a friend showed me his in his three story townhome, I was very jealous. It was the size of half our apartment and it even had its own toilet. I wanted my own. I thought of our residence back in Japan and I wanted to cry.

Here in Kawasaki, we live in what is called a 2DK.(2 rooms and a dining room/kitchen) There is no “extra room”.  There is a bedroom which is shared (although it has been infiltrated by a substantial stuffed animal collection, again – not mine), the living room, and the dining room/kitchen that is basically my wives sanctuary, which makes sense since she loves to cook – so I will let that slide. That leaves a bathroom and the toilet room. There was nowhere to go. So I had to make refuge in the little spaces that were reserved for me, namely, our five tiered ニトリ(Nitori) book shelf.

This was the natural place, being a known biblioholic, and as I took over nearly all the shelves, I saw my “Micro Man Cave” take shape. Now there are some drawbacks to my miniature Man Cave. I can’t sit down in it, can’t lay on a sofa, can’t smoke a cigar or enjoy an all night poker tournament, and most certainly can’t clean my gun(s). What I can do is collect small things of my choosing and place them inside in such a way, so that when I open it I am sucked in, transported if you will, into my own world – however fleeting that time might be.

So, I had to do this right, had to arrange things in an exacting manner, had to manicure this tiny 7 foot by 2 foot deep box into the embodiment of my very soul! It was a tall task, but after almost a year of refinement, I think I finally got it. Books make up the bulk of my Micro Man Cave. The rest is curated from bits and pieces of my life that I feel are worthy to be honored in the Micro Man Cave. Sometimes things are promoted, sometimes relegated, sometime whole shelves are renovated. In the process, I have managed to usurp space originally claimed by my wife – and banished her “nick nacks” to the basement level of the bookshelf. Though, she does do a nice job with the very limited space I have allotted her.

I started with a selection of literary fiction at the top shelf and worked my way down through history, politics, Japanese Language, etc.  Currently I am featuring two Nanoblock kits that I have assembled (Kaminarimon and the Hokkaido-Ken), in addition to future Nanoblock projects soon to be completed. My newest feature is a small wood block set of old Edo which I found for 70% off at Muji.  It really brings the place together.  Of course there are some of my personal files and such, but I tend to keep those things limited.  My Micro Man Cave has no time for trivial concerns like money, or taxes, or the legality of my visa.

Sometimes my wife catches me opening up my mini sanctuary and staring for prolonged periods. Sometimes she gets concerned, but later when my trance is broken I assure her that I was just enjoying some “me” time in my Micro Man Cave. “Oh,” she’ll say, “that seems perfectly normal.” Yes, it is normal, and don’t even think of entering uninvited. I’m already considering booby trapping the magnetic door grips…

Review: The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet
The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet by David Mitchell
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

What I enjoyed most about this novel is the language of the traders on Dejima. You’ll learn over 20 ways to describe the pain associated with gout and/or syphilis via the descriptive prowess of a 1800s English sea captain. Mitchell truly gives the reader a sense of presence in a foreign land. The only reason I failed to give it a 5 star rating was that I felt the last quarter of the book was a little rushed from a linear/progression standpoint. But one of the more enjoyable reads I have had for a long time. If you have any interest in Japan, colonialism, pirates, archaic medicine, or learning racial slurs in early 19th century vernacular – read this book.

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