Matt Lands a Part!

The new year is starting out with a bang for Matt who today learned he's been cast in the Kinnick High School production of Back to the 80s, a musical no less!

Matt auditioned just before the holiday break. This came as a welcome surprise to his parents, one of whom has harbored a secret desire to be a stage mother in the several decades since she first saw Rosalind Russell's performance in the film Gypsy!

Rehearsals begin January 11. If Fortune continues to smile on us, performances will occur before the USS Blue Ridge steams off on another deployment. If not, it might be time to replace that broken video camera.

Matt, pictured above with his singing coach, Sister Yoko, is already quite famous in Japan for introducing the "DC Homeless Guy" look.

On the Mortality of Writers, the Failure of a Reader, and Appropriate Egress from a Henhouse

Okay, so I didn't read a chapter of nonfiction every day in 2009. Maybe I didn't even manage to read a chapter of nonfiction for the first five consecutive days of 2009. I did, however, work my way through 12 nonfiction books in 12 months and that's no small feat for someone with a miserable self-mastery record like mine. I also re-learned, hopefully for the last time, that valuable lesson about putting all one's eggs in the same basket.

To put a positive spin on this whole failure thing, I'd like someone besides Mike to know I zipped, breezed, plowed, and sometimes slogged through 104 books total in 2009. That's a record for me, at least since 1998 when I started keeping a book log after Mom's first stroke. Notice I'm not calling this a "personal best". It's simply a record in terms of quantity which, as we all know, seldom equates to quality.

Those 104 books encompass 28 mysteries, 12 nonfictions, and 64 works I classify as general fiction. The numbers surprise me. Most years I tend to read more mysteries than anything else. My grandmother steered me to this genre when I was a fledgling reader and thus began a lifelong passion, an interest I've enjoyed sharing with my parents and some of my siblings.

It's easy to credit Mike's deployment for the sheer number of books I read last year but what could account for the decline in mysteries? Was this perhaps a semi-subconscious act of emotional self-protection?

Sadly, three of my very favorite mystery authors cannot by any stretch of my admittedly infamous imagination be considered "long for this world." Ruth Rendell will turn 80 in February, Martha Grimes will be 79 in May, and -- knock on wood -- P.D. James will celebrate her ninetieth birthday come August 3.

These distinguished women are the nearest to aunts I have left in this world. Frankly, I worry about their health the way other people seem to concern themselves with the extramarital shenanigans of professional golfers. Crazy? It is, as the expression goes, what it is.

Yet, even with this black cloud of impending doom hovering on the not-distant-enough horizon throughout 2009, I managed to pull myself away from the health reports long enough to read some memorable mysteries.


Nephew Pete, apparently a chip off his great-grandmother's block, introduced me to the delightful Scottish writer Denise Mina who penned a whopping five of my ten favorite mysteries in 2009. Two others were by the, alas, now-deceased (perhaps I'm a jinx) Swedish journalist Stieg Larsson. Amazon.com gets the nod for nudging me to try Larsson, the often hilarious young physician-in-training Josh Bazell, C. Alan Bradley, and C. J. Box (whose Blue Heaven earned the Edgar Award).

Amazon also suggested four of my ten favorite general fiction books last year: The Help, The Brothers K, Lark and Termite, and Whistling in the Dark. My sister-in-law Cathy recommended Still Alice and gets bonus points for being Pete's mother (they can take that any way they choose). Thanks to Kathleen Marra gifting me with The Sea, I am rather smitten with John Banville and slowly tackling his other books. Roberta from my original Tidewater book club tipped me off to The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox and Kate's Dead Authors Book Club in Northern Virginia forced me to re-read The Great Gatsby, a surprisingly enriching experience. (I am beginning to remind myself of Sally Fields accepting her first Oscar.)

The other authors who made my Top Ten (I'm sure it means the world to them) are repeat performers who have not (yet) failed to please, impress, and usually both. I am, if not a terribly discerning reader, a ridiculously loyal reader. If you don't believe me, just ask Martha Grimes, P.D. James, or Ruth Rendell.

Having re-learned that basket of eggs lesson the painful way, I've decided to double my reading resolutions for 2010. I am posting them here to shame myself into trying to stay focused on at least one of them. I don't imagine they would be of the slightest interest to most of you.

1. Read Ulysses (The "quality over quantity" resolution)
2. Read 12 nonfiction books (The "if you can't beat them, pat yourself on the back for playing well with others" resolution as my current book clubs have already assigned three nonfiction books for 2010 and any attempt on my part to halt this disturbing trend would surely result in shattered psyches the length of the Miura Peninsula)

Now excuse me while I snuggle up with a good book, the essential first step in creating new lists for 2010. Creating those lists will help me rationalize puttering around in Amazon, and maybe I'll accidentally wander into the recommendation section . . .

Exploring Sumida City: Kate's Last Day in Japan

Most, and maybe all, train stations here have lockers of various sizes and corresponding prices where you can stash stuff you don't want to carry around all day. We gained at least an hour of exploring time Wednesday by stowing Kate's big suitcase in Akihabara rather than backpedaling to the hotel on the way to the airport.

Our destination, Ryogoku, is across the Sumida River, a quick two stops from Akihabara. Which station exit is nearest the Edo-Tokyo Museum? The lobby map tells us the museum is just beyond the National Sumo Stadium (Ryogoku Kokugikan).

We spot this statue (left) just outside the station's east exit. The trail is getting warmer. We see the museum off to our right.

It takes only a minute or two to walk to the museum which, as it turns out, is closed for the New Year's holiday, Dec 30 - Jan 1. It was open yesterday but not today. We feel stupid for not remembering that all museums in Japan close during the holiday period. Then we get over our disappointment by reminding ourselves where we are: Tokyo, where interesting sights and experiences lurk just around most every corner. We simply have to choose a direction and start walking.

We see a three-story pagoda over the treetops and gravitate toward it along a brick path. The path leads us to Yokoami-cho Koen. Koen is the Japanese word for park.

Tokyo -- I learned this three days later -- bought this land from the army in 1922. The city was working on turning it into a park when the Great Kanto Earthquake struck in 1923. The park's role as a memorial space was ordained when tens of thousands of disaster victims were brought here.

We drift toward a monument designed by Kimio Tsuchiya called "Dwelling of Remembrance." This memorial to the victims of the Tokyo air raids of 1942-45 is also a monument to the pursuit of peace. A list of the victims of the firebombings was placed inside the monument when it was dedicated in March 2001. The flowers symbolize life. It is a restful place (as Matt and Katie illustrate here).

Lucky for us, a nearby plaque includes an English translation. "This monument was erected so that the memory of these air raids and their victims will not fade but live on to remind succeeding generations that today's peace and prosperity was built on the sacrifice of many precious lives. It embodies the profound hope that this peace will be everlasting."

The sandstone building just beyond "Dwelling of Remembrance" is the Tokyo-to Irei-do (Hall of Repose), built in 1930 to commemorate the victims of 1923's earthquake. The Hall was destroyed during World War II and rebuilt in 1951, at which time the original purpose was expanded to include the air raid victims. Since Irei-do is closed today, we'll have to schedule another visit to Yokoami-cho Koen. What flowers do you suppose they plant in the spring? I can hardly wait to find out.

On the other side of the park we find a memorial dedicated to the children who died during the air raids. I think about my Japanese friends, especially Kyoko and Misa who were alive during World War II. I wonder if they have visited this park and stood where I am now standing. A profound feeling of sadness of the lives-not-lived variety washes over me and distracts me momentarily from dwelling on Katie's impending departure. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

With public art so abundant in Tokyo, I almost overlooked the lovely gates at the park's entrance. Perhaps it's just me, but gates like this seem to be whispering, "Frank Lloyd Wright was here." Anything is possible.

Since one of us tends to get a bit, well, peevish when forced to retrace her steps, we headed back to the station by a different route. More public art awaited us on the near side of the Edo-Tokyo Museum: a towering statue of a man, a priest or monk perhaps, who is gripping a riding crop or some sort of wand in his right fist and letting his left hand serve as a landing pad for a bird. The man is standing on a tall pedestal that's balanced on the back of an enormous tortoise (left).

Have we discovered a Buddhist version of St. Francis of Assisi? Further research is warranted.

Perhaps I have just written my own epitaph.

If It's Tuesday, It Must be London: Katie Reprises Her Yoko Ono Imitation

We received a call from the New Sanno Hotel Tuesday morning. The U.S. military hotel in Tokyo wondered if we wanted to take advantage of a last-minute cancellation. In the spirit of the season, I didn't put up much of a fight when the hotel representative insisted the four of us could not possibly squeeze into a room featuring a queen-size bed and fold-out couch. Sure, we'll take the room with twin beds also. I was also darn sure the cancelling guest had already paid for those rooms but I didn't bother trying to negotiate a discount. Why waste my breath? Spending Tuesday night in Tokyo would put us an hour closer to Narita Airport for Katie's Wednesday afternoon departure.

(Note to future visitors: Haneda Airport will open a fourth runway any day now and there is talk of re-opening that airport to international flights. You might want to consider Haneda Airport when booking your travel as that airport is half as far from Yokosuka as is Narita Airport.)

A couple of hours after confirming our reservations we were on a Tokyo-bound train and an hour after that we dumped most of Kate's earthly possessions in a hotel room and were off to Tokyo Tower, erected in 1958 when the Japanese television stations needed a new tower and opted to boost national self-esteem in the bargain.

It looks like the Eiffel Tower on purpose. For those who might be oblivious to the resemblance, there's a French crepe stand near the entrance to tweak the subconscious. That crepe stand was a lot more appealing to one of us than the prospect of ascending to the observation platform in a glass elevator. Apparently he was standing in line for his blueberry confection when I took this picture.

By the time I tracked down the tower mascot, no one was in a cooperative mood. Since I have yet to master PhotoShop, you're going to have to pretend that Japanese family is us. We have no idea what the mascot is intended to represent or why he/she/it is sporting a bandaid. (Okay, we have a few ideas but certainly none that bear repeating here.)

The three of us who were still speaking to each other at this point voted to start looking for a place to eat. The Akasaka neighborhood seemed like a good bet. Akasaka is within walking distance of Tokyo Tower but the Three Lazy Bums were having none of that and Marcella Marceau graciously bowed to their demand to travel by subway. 'Graciously bowed' in this instance means 'nodded coldly.'

"Wow, Mom, you wouldn't believe how much you look like Grandma right now!" Actually, I would.

Akasaka did indeed offer a plethora of dining options. We eventually narrowed our choices to Indian, Korean BBQ, and English pub fare. The teenager particularly liked the looks of the pizza pictured on the sign outside the English pub.

This is how we came to spend Kate's last night in Japan eating fish and chips, a meat pie, and a pepperoni pizza surrounded by a half dozen boisterous British expatriates and/or embassy employees all of whom sounded a lot like Hugh Grant and Ian McEwan. Alas, the resemblance was limited to the vocal chords.

It turns out there are three Hobgoblin pubs scattered around Tokyo. We'll happily investigate the others when you come to see us.

On the Appeal of Japanese Department Stores

Take it from this non-shopper: Japanese department stores are amazing.

When the Battle of Kate's Throat took a sharp turn in favor of the antibiotics Monday, we jumped on a train bound for Yokohama and spent a few pleasant hours wandering around Sogo department store. Sogo offers everything a person can imagine spread over 13 floors from the sub-basement food emporium to the rooftop garden center where toddlers can romp on artificial turf while their older siblings score goals on the adjacent soccer field. With over 25 restaurants to choose from on the tenth floor, it's hard to decide what to eat. There's even a floor devoted to wedding planning.


The store had a "Girlish Culture" theme going to usher in the new year. We saw Hello Kitty in different incarnations on every floor as we worked our way down the escalator from the roof. This one (above) was in the sub-basement near the entrance to the train station. The people behind Hello Kitty are in line to pick up their New Year's meals: enough food to last three days because Japanese women don't have to cook from December 30 until January 2. (This strikes me as a lovely tradition other countries ought to seriously consider borrowing.)


These dads (above) are catching some rays while their toddlers work off excess energy.The roof offers a splendid view (below). Since the glass walls are at least twelve feet high, there's no chance of falling off the roof either accidentally or on purpose.

While recuperating Kate sipped a strawberry-blueberry smoothie, Mike bought some wine and Belgian beer in the sub-basement. ("Hmm," he seems to be thinking, "perhaps we ought to invest in one of those big casks of sake for Matt's graduation party.")

It's a good thing I'm not much of a shopper or I might spend all my waking hours exploring department stores. And I wouldn't have to brave bad weather to do so since most of the department stores here are connected directly to train and/or subway stations.

On Posting Frequency and Ushering in the New Year

Yes, Anonymous, the Ancient Mariner has been posting more frequently of late than I. Just assume it's been too cold here for running and biking the past few days. Also assume AM did not make any rash resolutions last January 1 and, therefore, was not compelled to spend the waning days of 2009 plowing through 700+ pages of nonfiction.

But -- ta-da! -- my goal of reading 12 nonfiction books in 2009 was accomplished with a whopping three hours to spare so we donned our party togs and -- after AM re-donned his to meet my specifications that shirt, sweater, and slacks fall within reasonable proximity of each other on the color wheel -- we moseyed down the street to usher in the new year with some of his co-workers. We fielded medical questions, envied the host's electronic Yamaha piano, discussed Harry Potter, and ingested quail eggs wrapped in bacon. (WARNING: quail eggs can be mistaken for green olives in a dimly lit setting.)

While the quail egg works its way through my digestive track, I'll organize the pictures of Kate's last three days in Japan.

On Why You Should Stick Around the Airport Until Your Kid's Plane Lifts Off

We had a bit of a scare. We were headed to the runway to takeoff but then they turned us around and went back to the gate because a passenger was making threatening statements. They kicked this person off the plane and then searched the premises for a device for an hour before we took off. Everything was fine, but it was a bit scary. All of the other passengers were so gracious and patient--that was nice to see.

Love,
Kate