We've Changed His Name to Pip Bin Laden

If you tuned into the Royal Wedding last week, you no doubt noticed that the Middleton family bears a striking resemblance to mine. Not only have both Mrs. Middleton and I spawned three attractive and seemingly intelligent children, but we share a penchant for traditional names.  We both have a Kate, we both have a James, and surely the boy name she picked out for Pippa was Matthew. Surely. So last week we changed College Boy's nickname to Pip to subtly celebrate our royal connection.

While the Ancient Mariner and I were respectively guzzling and sipping beer at Yokohama Stadium last night, Pip left a message on our answering machine.  It was 4:00 am in Norfolk, Virginia, and he was enroute to the airport.  His first year of college had officially ended.  He was happy to be heading home for the summer.

He was still reasonably happy an hour later after forking over $400 to United Airlines.  His two suitcases were over the weight limit.  This strikes me as a modern day form of highway robbery.  It's something of a miracle that he actually had $400 in his bank account to fork over.  When I was his age, I never had more than $10 in my bank account.  (Remind me some day to tell you about that monthly stipend Pip receives as a benefit of attending college on his father's GI Bill benefit.)
By the time Pip arrived in Chicago to meet his connecting flight to Tokyo, the Ancient Mariner and I were sleeping off the Kirin, Asahi, Yebisu, and Sapporo beer.  Fortunately the telephone is on the nightstand nearest the parent who can actually hear it ring.  The airline did not want to let Pip on the plane.  He showed them his military dependent ID card and his valid tourist passport (the military passport expired a few weeks ago) but the airline wanted additional proof that the U.S. Navy would welcome Pip back to Japan with open arms.  The Ancient Mariner managed to locate a semi-official document, track down an English translation of the operating manual that came with our Japanese printer, and scan the document for the airline.  Then, because he is a good dad, he stayed up for two more hours until he was certain Pip was on the airplane and that the airplane had left Chicago.

The Ancient Mariner thinks Pip's one-way ticket was the sticking point.  "There is heightened security because of Osama Bin Laden's assassination a few days ago."

As for Pip, he never wants to travel through O'Hare Airport again.  And it looks like he won't have to in the foreseeable future because he's transferring from Old Dominion University to a college in Bellingham, Washington, where he'll be reunited with several of his high school track teammates.  This should be interesting.

Here are some signs we saw at Narita Airport while waiting for Pip's plane to touch down.

Beer Tastes Better at Baseball Games

We saw the Yokohama Bay Stars trounce the Honshin Tigers tonight. I usually travel to the Tokyo Dome to scratch my baseball itch but could not resist the chance to check out Yokohama Stadium when the Seventh Fleet proposed a group outing.

Getting to Yokohama Stadium from Yokosuka is easy.  You can either ride the Keikyu train to Yokohama and switch to a JR train that will take you to Kannai station or you can hop off the Keikyu train in Kamiooka and take the subway to Kannai.  The stadium is right across the street from the JR end of Kannai station.  If you exit the station at the subway end, you could end up walking two or three blocks.  A little exercise won't kill you. 

Ninjas?  No, those are Power Rangers celebrating a run.

We sat in the upper deck above first base. Walking up two flights of stairs to reach our seats, we found restrooms conveniently situated on the landing. I've missed a lot of innings over the years while waiting in long lines outside of ballpark restrooms, so I appreciated the architect's thoughtfulness in carving out facilities just for us Section 8 fans.

There's the Sapporo Beer Girl!  We'll take two, kudasai!

Just like at the Tokyo Dome, cute young girls scampered up and down the aisles offering four kinds of beer, whiskey, and chu-hi. The Tokyo Dome beer girls carry their beer in little keg backpacks but the ones in Yokohama poured beer from cans. We sampled Asahi, Sapporo, Kirin, and Yebisu beer. My favorite, Yebisu, cost 50 yen more than the others but I consider it seventy cents well spent.

I'm going to try to visit more ballparks this summer and next spring. For research purposes, of course.

The Japan Hobby Show: More Stuff I'll Never Use in a Million Years

Fearless and Ouiser returned to Japan in time to accompany the Radiation Rebels to the 35th Annual Japan Hobby Show at Tokyo Big Sight in Odaiba. "What a relief," Weather whispered to Sunshine. "I don't know about you, but I sure could use a break from Peevish."

The Japan Hobby Show is sponsored by the Hobby Association of Japan. It's usually held at the end of April or beginning of May.  This year there were 782 booths displaying the tools and accoutrements for every hobby you have ever imagined plus a few that never crossed your mind.  There was also a food section where we sampled rice-fed chicken (yum) and Japanese wine (hic).

We were not allowed to take photographs inside the exhibit hall but I managed to sneak a few for you by acting like a bewildered old foreign lady.  You are very welcome, as always. 

Scrapbooking is very popular in Japan



Knitting is also popular



Many vendors offered training sessions to interest people in their wares. Big Bird, the tall American lady in the top photograph, whipped up a pencil case and Tomoko made a fancy book cover while the rest of us stocked up on supplies and splurged a bit on finished products. After watching one man bend metal beverage cans into crane shapes, Weather bought two made out of Japanese beer cans.

Fearless bought a present for Artistic. We are starting to worry that Artistic is so happy to be back in Norfolk that she'll decide not to return to Japan when the school year ends.

Hometown Tax System: A Concept Worth Considering

My friend Kim mentioned Japan's hometown tax system in one of her recent blog posts.  Intrigued, I eventually managed to track down more information in the Daily Yomiuri Online.  You can read the April 28 article by clicking on the post title (above) or settle for my virtually verbatim excerpts or just go back to playing with your smarty-pants phone.

The furusato nozei (hometown tax) system encourages people to contribute to their hometown despite living elsewhere.  The four prefectures hardest hit by the earthquake/tsunami/radiation disaster are receiving donations from around the nation at several times the typical rate.

This system allows individuals to donate money to any specific prefectural or municipal government. Many use the system to support their hometown or towns, villages, cities and prefectures for which they feel special affection.  Depending on the individual's income, donations in excess of 2,000 ($25) yen qualify as an income tax deduction. Donations that top 5,000 yen entitle the individual to an equivalent deduction from their resident tax.

This idea appeals to me.  Ever since Bob Dole ran for president and his wife Elizabeth was compelled to disclose the outlandish salary she was hauling down as executive director of the American Red Cross, I have felt uncomfortable about donating to non-profit disaster relief organizations.  During eighteen years working for non-profit organizations, I often felt overworked but only felt underpaid when I learned that my male counterpart with fewer years' experience was raking in more dough.  And that's an entirely different issue.

Another reason this idea appeals to me because I really love my hometown.  I have benefited from the libraries, park and recreation system, post office, Catholic schools and churches, children's theater, dollar movies, radio station, and Coney Island joints of Jackson, Michigan.  It's a medium-sized town surrounded by lakes where some of my most vivid teenage memories were formed.  My parents and grandparents are buried there.  Although I left Jackson forty years ago, most of my siblings raised their families in Jackson and my nieces and nephews are now carrying on that tradition.

If I had the option of donating money to my hometown when income tax time rolled around, I am fairly certain I would check the Yes box.  I like the idea of donating to head off a crisis rather than to compensate for one.

These days we pay taxes to Norfolk and the Commonwealth of Virginia.  Although we haven't lived in Norfolk for five years, I don't begrudge them our money.  Virginia was kind and generous to our family during the eight or nine off-and-on years we lived there so we never seriously considered changing our home-of-record to a state that does not assess taxes.  Avoiding taxes just doesn't sit well with me since (a) most of our family income for the past twenty years has come from tax dollars and (b) paying taxes gives me license to rant about how my money is spent.

Not that I've ever really needed a license to rant...

If you took the time to read the full article, you'll know that at least one Japanese person donated on the basis of sharing a name with the community to which he donated.  Imagine what it would mean to my hometown if just a select few Major League Baseball players surnamed Jackson embraced this concept.

Heiwajima Antiques Fair

Weather Explorer has been smitten with Ebisu, the happy fishing god and Yebisu Beer mascot, ever since our Seven Gods of Fortune pilgrimage last month.  She's also fond of Daikoku, the hammering merchant god, who seems to be Ebisu's special godfriend.

One of my favorite things to do is helping other people spend their money.  When Weather decided that Ebisu and Daikoku statues would be happy reminders of her time in Japan, our idle strolls through flea markets developed an intense new flavor.  The packers are due to show up at her door in June, a prospect I choose to ignore for the most part but that's not always easy since her face has taken on a certain familiar flush I call Short-Timer Fever.  Woman with only two months remaining in Japan are often spotted gazing into that abyss known as "the middle distance" while mentally calculating how many more lanterns, rolls of washi paper, and tote bags they can buy without exceeding their household goods weight limit.

Today we braved the Golden Week crowds to search for affordable statues at the Heiwajima Antiques Fair at Tokyo Ryutsu Center near Haneda Airport.  Finding the Ryutsu Center was easy because there's a Tokyo Monorail train station by that name just outside the building's door.  Otsuka-san gets credit for telling us about this indoor quarterly upscale flea market.  Artistic Explorer will not get back to Japan in time for the July 8-10 fair, but maybe I can drag her and other inquisitive types to the September or December versions.

Weather and I spotted dozens of Ebisu and Daikoku statues but replaced them on the shelves quickly yet ever so carefully when we spied price tags in the $100 range.  After searching for about three hours and pausing briefly for lunch, Weather decided to invest in a traditional stone ship carved with all seven gods. 

  

The price tag said 6,800 yen but she got it for 4,000 yen.  It weighs about fifty pounds. I offered to help carry it home on the train, but Weather would have none of that. Sometimes she reminds me a bit of my mother.



The back of the statue



About five minutes after investing in the ship, of course, she found a nice pair of godfriends that the vendor let her have for 2,000 yen (about $25).

I sure hope she comes up with a new mission before we head to the Yamato Shrine sale the week after next. Otherwise, I just might have to track down a pair of those statues for myself and call them a Father's Day gift.

Speaking of the Ancient Mariner, he sailed off on the USS Blue Ridge again this morning. But only for a few days this time as we have a baseball game on our calendar for Friday evening. He sure does love his baseball and I sure do love my Yebisu Beer.

P.S. If you'd like more information about the Heiwajima Antiques Fair, clicking on the post title will take you to the English page of the official website.

To Sleep, Perchance on Gel

Ishii-san and I went to Kurihama today to see what was blooming at Flower World. We caught the tail end of the tulips, glimpsed surprisingly early hydrangea, but mainly feasted our eyes on poppies, poppies, and more poppies. It was like walking through the Monet print that adorned the wall over my parents' couch.

We rode a train across the park for 200 yen and then hiked back over the hill. This turned out to be a tactical error. The 2,000 meter path is marked off in 100 meter increments and I couldn't help but notice -- wheeze, gasp -- that we walked uphill for 1,400 meters before descending 600 meters to the poppy field.

"I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. I am so sleepy. Do you remember how she fell asleep in that field of poppies just as they glimpsed the Emerald City? I know just how she felt! Opium is really powerful."

You might recall that Ishii-san was a junior high science teacher before her retirement. She informed me, politely of course, that opium poppies are blue. My sleepiness had more to do with hiking uphill for 1,400 meters after gorging myself on ramen and gyoza than inhaling the nectar of red, orange, pink, and yellow poppies.

Visiting Kurihama is always a pleasure. I should do it more often since it's only a short train ride from the base and Flower World is just four or five blocks from the train station. There are hundreds of interesting shops and restaurants to explore between the train station and Flower World.

We stopped in a two-story mall to buy drinks and find out what cream puff fillings Beard Papa's is offering this month (banana, green tea, and whipped cream in addition to the traditional custard). A display of blue pads caught my eye. Ishii-san explained that these gel-filled pads will be spread on beds across Japan this summer to help people stay cool at night since energy conservation measures in the wake of the earthquake/tsunami rule out air conditioners.

Don't tell the Ancient Mariner, but I think I've found the perfect gift for Father's Day.

Tsukiji Fish Market with the Ancient Mariner

Rise and shine! It's 6:00 am and you promised to take me to the Tsukiji fish market this morning.

Look both ways and hold my hand when you cross the street. Those men zipping around in the fish carts are not expecting pedestrians.

Good Lord! This building must be a half mile long and a half mile wide. The Japanese sure do eat a lot of fish.

If you're thinking of getting me something for Mother's Day, rubber boots would be a good idea.

Mmmmm. Eel.

We should have invested our retirement savings in styrofoam and ice-making machines.

Who do you suppose buys these fish heads?

Fish broth companies.

These are the reddest fish I've ever seen.

Don't get too close or they might snap off one of your fingers!

I'm waiting for you to tell me to clam up.