gallantry

Exiting the station the other day, I found myself behind a pair of teen-aged lovers. The guy had baggy pants, an untucked shirt, and a spiky hairstyle; the girl was wearing her school uniform skirt ass-short. Possibly-flashing-her-knickers short. As we were coming up to a flight of stairs, I got ready to test my panty-flashing theory. Alas, her boyfriend carefully walked directly behind her, shielding her ass with his body and backpack so there was no chance of a sneak-peek. The lecherous old man in me was disappointed. Ah, modern chivalry.

saturnine

sluggish in temperament, gloomy, taciturn.

again with the taciturnity.

from joyce's dubliners.

i do love how the brits call cupcakes "fairy cakes".

curiosities

The other day, I was walking around the neighborhood doing errands. I was wearing my ever-present and utterly nerdy pedometer, and was stopped at a crossing signal. To get some steps in this idle time, I was absentmindedly stepping in place a little. I glanced around me and there was an old granny next to me. She looked ninety if she was a day - frail, hunched over, tufts of snowy white hair, and a blue housecoat. She was looking at me quizzically, and tentatively stepping in place. I can only guess what was going through her mind.

In the hubbub of Machida last week, I was exiting the turnstiles of the station with a stream of other people. Suddenly, I focused on an old granddad. This wizened old dude was decked out, head to toe, in American Southwest-style cowboy gear. Beat-up old hat, chaps, string tie, belt buckle, all studded with turquoise. Above the string tie was perched a wrinkled Japanese face. The incongruity was hilarious and fantastic, and I coveted his outfit. A few days later, I saw him again on a street corner.

growth

This neighborhood is growing up. Last year, the parking lot behind our house was turned into a row of tightly-packed houses. And I guess it's nicer to have houses than a parking lot. But I'm starting to feel closed in.

Now, around the corner, they're developing what was a grassy lot into some more buildings. Apartments or houses, I'm not sure. But skeletons are going up.

There are still a few dedicated spaces around that seem safe for now. Parks, plazas. But there's something about a weedy empty lot. Wild grasses blowing. With no requirement to be anything, no imperative to please children or provide benches to seat the elderly for a respite. No need to do anything but be overgrown, to shelter in its neglected embrace forlorn lost and forgotten items - key chains, receipts, a kindergartener's dirty beat-up plastic toys. To facilitate the occasional shortcut across its tangled swaths. To give us breathing space.

baby!

Kids make me laugh all the time at school. It's a pretty great benefit of going to work.

I have a class of three high-level kids. Two of them are returnees - one spent time in Canada, the other in English-speaking schools in Hong Kong. The third is just dead smart. They are all nearly native level speakers, which is fantastic, because it means I can treat them pretty much like regular third graders. They catch on super quick and are really fun to teach, since they can handle almost any activity I can throw at them. They are brimming with enthusiasm, love to read and do puzzles, and relish a challenge.

Yesterday, while doing Halloween anagrams, Kota, the most rambunctious of the lot, cracked me up. He kept punctuating his answers with: baby! Example: "Hey guys. What does haunted mean?" K: "Has ghosts and monsters! Scary house! Baby!" Or: "What did you do yesterday?" K: "I went to school and then home. Baby!"

Sometimes I love this job.

same in print

I've had a version of this post accepted for publication over at Tokyo Notice Board. It'll only be in the print version, that of October 12-18, 2007.

support your local yokels

Though a lot of urbanites turn their noses up at their metro cousins, Beaverton as a suburb does have a few redeeming factors. Sunset Bingo for one. A charming old-fashioned downtown, though neglected, for another.

Valley Theater in Beaverton is an oasis in what is mostly a strip-mall pocked wasteland. Family run, indie, inexpensive. The box office clerk was friendly, engaged, happy to be working there, and above the oily adolescence of most theater employees. They show second run films for 3.75 a pop, and serve beer and a few other non-traditional snacks. I love Portland's myriad indie theaters, but since this place is in my family's backyard, I'll surely be seeing more of the Valley.

pep and chris bike europe!

awesome music video from prague to dresden.