Thank you so much for your invitation to join Social Networking Site X (SNSX). I am touched that, although we haven’t spoken or written in years, you have refrained from erasing my email address and thereby extended this digital hand of friendship to me along with likely hundreds of others. (Tell them I said hi, by the way.)
I recognize that the invitation to join you at SNSX represents a delightful optimism on your part, a hope that the nonzero probability that that you and I might wish to resume our relationship at some time in the future might be sustained and even nurtured by the beneficent hand of SNSX.
Alas, I must decline your invitation. Do not take it personally.
In my old age I find myself becoming ever more the grouchy hermit, and I am no longer able to hold onto the youthful, exuberant ideals embodied by your invitation to perpetual contact. No, cold and heartless as I am, I find myself subscribing to a more organic, Darwinian model of friendship, ie those that are worthy of persisting do so without the technological assistance of SNSX and its brethren, while the rest are more than welcome to settle into the warm ooze of my longterm memory.
In other words, Old Friend, whose memory I will always cherish, if we need SNSX to stay in touch, then, well, perhaps we shouldn’t.
So today we went to visit the Kamadas, old neighbors of ours whom I describe here. We usually go back and enjoy their company and incredible cooking every month or so, although tonight we went back for a special occasion. Their eldest son, Keisuke, turned 20, which is the age of majority in Japan, and to celebrate they opened a magnum of wine purchased about 10 years ago that was made in the same year as Keisuke was born.They invited us to come and enjoy it with them.
The wine itself, pictured below, was amazing. I have always enjoyed wine, but have never tasted the really nice stuff. Now I know what I’ve been missing. This 20-year Burgundy was easily better than anything else I’ve had. The only way I can describe it is that it was deep and complex without being heavy. It just went down incredibly smoothly, and if you wanted to pay attention to it you could, but it wasn’t overpowering. Now I can’t wait until their middle child turns 20 in a few years.
Some classy wine
Kamada-san with a cavorting Genbo and Zoe
Genbo in the canonical “elbow-grabbing” pose
I’ve been meaning to take some more pictures of Kamada-san’s work, and this time I remembered to bring my camera and ZF100/2 macro lens. I still can’t get over the fact that, of all the potters in this pottery-loving country, the single one (literally) whose work I love best just happened to live next to me, and be a really nice guy who likes to invite me over, play with my children, and get me drunk with great wine and food. His work is very hard to capture, though, because so much of it is glossy and reflects light. The different metallic crystals are so beautiful, though, and have a fractal beauty that draws you in. By this I mean that you can appreciate the beauty of the glass at any number of scales, and there is complexity and beauty at each one, from viewed afar to the tiniest detail.
I’ve been loving my new iPhone so much that I find myself finding excuses to pick it up and stroke its sleek black loveliness, only to look up hours later and wonder where the time went. These photos are from its camera. And, as much as I love my little iPhone, my Fuji S5 and arsenal of lenses are certainly in no danger.
Genbo has a shinkansen (bullet train) ruler, on the back of which it says “Please don’t run for the train” in Japanese and English, because Japan is the most annoyling patronizing country in the history of the world, as if the hapless Japanese people need to be reminded constantly of every safety precaution imaginable lest they kill themselves accidentally (they’re already quite proficient at doing so on purpose).
In this case what they mean is, don’t run onto the train and thereby get caught in the doors. I explained what this meant to Genbo when he asked. It’s always hard to tell whether or not he understands my explanations. He often asks me to repeat myself many times, at the end of which he usually gets a blank look and says something like “Can I have some crackers now?”
Anyway, my iPhone camera came in really handy this time, when, an hour or so later, Genbo rolled this graphic depiction of what could happen to you over to me and said, “This is what happens when you run for the train, right?”
So, I’m now hopeful that at least not all of my painstaking explanations are for naught.
Genbo has clearly graped the dangers explained to him
(In a hilarious display of unintended irony, Genbo looked at the new Green Eggs and Ham book I bought him yesterday and, without cracking the cover, said “I don’t like this book.”)
Went out and bought an iPhone 3G today (went to the store at noon, but was only able to reserve a phone. Had to go back at 8PM to pick it up), but I’m currently unable to use it because the iTunes store is apparently swamped, so I can’t unlock the thing. A cursory Internet search has revealed I’m not the only one. Arrghh…..
We live about a kilometer away from the biggest lake in Japan, lake Biwa (about the size of lake Tahoe), and yet we rarely go there. Whenever we do, though, it’s always lots of fun. I’m hoping we end up spending more and more time in and by the lake as Genbo and Zoe get older.
The other day we went down to the shore and Genbo and Zoe had a ball. It reminded me of what might have been the last time, which was almost exactly a year ago. Hard to believe.
I haven’t posted for a long time, and I now have a suped-up customized posting system courtesy of Jeffrey, so this is going to be a long one.
First, Genbo on the way to the beach this time.
Almost the exact same shot one year ago
Now compare this Zoe…
With this one. Hard to believe it’s the same creature
Growing up means adventure!
Which sometimes means mishap!
“Genbo, I know the waves keep washing it ashore, but whill you stop throwing that empty beer can into the lake!”
Today I played shakuhachi at a new place, a “day care” facility for the elderly. This place, as with the other places I play at, have all been introductions from the (as with everything else in Japan) neighborhood watering hole I visit a couple times a month.
Unfortunately this place has lousy acoustics, so it seems like the sound dies as soon as it leaves the flute. Still, I had a good time playing. Someone took pictures, which I will post later, but right in front there was a hunched, frail wisp of a woman, probably about 90 years old and suffering from at least advanced osteoporosis if nothing else, who was energetically (well, relatively) clapping and singing with me the whole time. So, I just pretended I was playing for her alone, and didn’t worry about how I sounded to everybody else.
After coming back I recorded the clip below. These are about 1/4 of the songs I played today. The first two are old folk songs, with the rest being more recent (early to mid-20th century) popular melodies, the kind that my audience today would have known and loved when they were young.
