D: 4 days left says:
should i bring rollerblades?

-mike! says:
hell NO!!

-mike! says:
in fact, you should not own roller blades.. no one should

D: 4 days left says:
no one uses them?

-mike! says:
i've seen a skateboard with two wheels and a motor.. but rollerblades i have not, and will not see

D: 4 days left says:
weird

D: 4 days left says:
ok, thanks for the info

singing

i can't see the source, even from my perch so high above the world, but have many times before. this is a common (popular?) form of public address in japan: announcement via van-top megaphone - a rather obnoxious and seemingly inefficient system given everything i've come to think i know about japan.

it's a child's voice, yes? a boy maybe 12 years old is singing short phrases of a traditional song or a prayer between more typical, official-sounding public reminders of some kind. i don't understand the purpose of the announcement - no one tells me anything - but can guess it has something to do with the small dolls and decorations that have been appearing in shop windows recently. i feel so alien sometimes, watching these strange communal creatures go about their observances of which i know almost nothing. the boy's song, watercolored in changing direction and doppler orientation, is pouring in through my window bringing with it the clear and the cold i was hoping to avoid by burying myself in some distraction of reading or watching - that is until hunger or the promise of social interaction (any excuse really) drives me from my home. fate, or chance&timing, whichever you prefer, will decide the shape of said distraction. they will call me. i will not call them. maybe i should call them.. (and when i say call, i mean email or "text". no one calls.. that's a lie - sometimes eri calls.)

liberty: "what's up?"

- always the same peace offering always cautious and unassuming. liberty's overflowing with social guilt again and attempts to give me a hurried once-over of email maintenance. i get this same "what's up?" every 2 weeks or so and always respond instantly and at length. i often invite her to join me for coffee or whatever debaucherous exploits may be planed for the coming weekend. she never responds - that is, not for another 2 weeks or so and at what point she simply resends the message seen above. oh, liberty, if you're not going to have a sense of social responsibility, why bother suffering under the weight of so much social guilt?

me: "yo!"

shortest. email. ever.. no response.. ehh - give'r 2 weeks.

i get impatient.. i email everyone i know. here's what comes back:

ayako (long lost street friend): "I am in okayama now! i want to meet with everyone!" (an informal version of "take care" in hirigana, this fat thumbs up man: (o^-' )b )

- she's super weird and that's good! i can't wait for spring to come so we can reclaim the streets!!

robin/lovin (in japanese and some scattered roman letters): "thanks for coming to the show and giving me your cd! this is your band, right? the optionals? (fireworks) are you playing bass or guitar?" (waggling red question mark, waving hand, happy purple winking face sticking out tongue)

- she's has an amazing voice and it's good to pop in and see some live music when i can, better if i know the performers. still, we have to communicate in my wretched japanese.. so..

aki (eri's friend, often served with coffee - bitter): "Hi, yes can be friend.but can't meet you without anothers.let's get together on friday.See you, A-ki"

- she's recently been downgraded to acquaintance by both eri and myself. we agree that she's beautiful, but obnoxiously typical. we will not see her friday.

eri (as usual, eri will be played by herself in un-adultered flowing Forwards): "Very agreeable! Aki and other friends invited me and I refused today. Do you have other friends, Mike? What will you do tonight?" .. "I am staying quiet and relaxed. Investigating by pc, fashion press and jarnalist recruits today. I was still confused myself yesterday with plural directions to consider and decide no regret. I want to pace myself and be clear satisfyingly on what I want to do now on and way to walk. I go out next weekend yo! I be back my world. Zoom zoom zizz! Eri"

- looks like i'm staying in. that's ok - i have a book!

this is my favorite picture! the first bite of a squiq-on-a-stick is always the best!  

the naked man festival!

okayama is home to one of the strangest festivals in japan, the hadaka matsuri! thousands of men from all over the country come to compete for fame and glory in nothing but their skin! how could i miss this!

when lola and i arrived at the saidaiji train station (beer in hand) we were greeted by a bronze statue commemorating the event. the upper-halves of several chiseled men erupting from a crowd - the highest one, held up by a comrade, is making a fingertip catch for the win - greatness all over his face! on this night, lanterns hang all around them and thousands of candles twinkle below, possibly commemorating those lives lost in the struggle throughout the years.

we were picked up by a student and a friend of ours, susumu the dentist, and wisked off to his beautiful home in his new RANGE ROVER!! (this car looks about 3 times bigger in japan than it does in the states - it was ludicrous). we enjoyed food and drinks at his place and schmoozed with friends. after a few hours, we all piled into cars and headed back into town! parking was a puddle after 2 straight days of rain and we joined the crowd on our way to the temple - and what a crowd!

walking through town was like edging through a carnival midway! there were lanterns and music, all the sizzling and smells of street vended delicacies. and then there were the naked men! we had to make way for rows of them jogging past. and, well, the truth is they weren't completely naked - they were each wearing a single white cloth wrapped and tied to cover only the most essentials (think sumo diaper).

they've come to march through the streets and drink mass quantities before congregating in a heap on the front steps of saidaiji temple were they will push and shout and squirm to get good position. at midnight all hell breaks lose!

someone, some lucky monk, maybe, throws a single baton into the man mass at exactly 12:00 AM and the crowd is left to it's own devices in deciding who will take the baton across town to the judges, tv cameras, and cash prize. there's a fair amount of naked violence involved in the struggle. most men have formed alliances with others from their local temple or university. some have formed huge teams and developed strategies!

were weren't close enough to see individual punches being thrown, but we could see the heaving waves of flailing men as the baton made its way down the steps and out of the temple. it was a little anticlimactic - like watching the start of a race - but it was worth seeing.

clap my hands!

ahh..

saturday morning: a deep breath of winter air - crisp, sobering - complete and pure - it's my first breath. i step out into the sun. i've never been here before. God, it's so beautiful.. i'm surfacing after a long pull of cold lake michigan water. this is sun, this is air - feel the water run down my body taking with it the campfire, the red wine, the darkness of the night before, the sand, the sweat, the sun-baked tent and the thousands of tosses and turns, the open eyes of the many hours of morning. know and love these things. it's so bright.

pull, and pop! the ringing is gone. how long has that seed been in my teeth? that stone in my shoe? that water in my ear? i can hear everything - this is the first time. the clarity! these overtones! this is joy - and the world is snow melting on my tongue! how long have i been gone?!

i hear a symphony! i'm in the bright, shining world of the living and diana ross is here too! it's music in my head and it's finding it's way into my fingertips, into my soul, and out into the morning - i'm singing as i pedal toward work! hello, old lady! hello, little dog! hello, mitsubishi!

later i will have a joyful reunion with my inner-monologue! always crack'n wise and say'n all the shit i shouldn't. i'm so damn funny, and i've got so much to say - or, at least, i'm always talking. where have you been, friend? these are higher level brain functions! this is not only the automatic pilot that has somehow steered me through these last 2 weeks.. maybe i was worse off than i realized. i was afraid i had just learned to live with my demon as a survival mechanism, but now i know he's gone, destroyed in the fires of my courageous heart!

i'm healthy and i know it - clap my hands!

it's incredible - the speed with which i am passed from one set of open arms to another. it's scary how totally unanchored my social life is right now.. i'm a feather in the fucking wind.

clearly - we've got a lot of catching up to do, and i apologize that it's been so long. i've come down with a case of the hong-kong-flu-y (illegally smuggled into japan by non-other than my fabulous friend of so many years, chiann)!

i wouldn't do to say, "i've been sick" - indeed, it's really more like "i've been possessed" - or that is, i've been exorcist-sick. my demon has rendered my physical self completely useless and imprisoned my mental self in a nightmare version of my job by day and a psychedelic fever dream state by night. for a week now these halves have shared equal portion as i've been sleeping for 12 hours a night as a countermeasure.

- i will wage war on you by night - fear my wrath!
- orange juice can bring you comfort by day but nothing can protect you in sleep.
- God can protect me.
- not if you doubt him.
- then you can not win.

"abunai yo!" - a warning - shattered against my clenched teeth and reverberating around inside my skull. above my moving bicycle i am my floating head, drifted as in a dream down to her - time is still slow but catching up. *crash!

"oh my God! are you ok?" i'm standing over hiromi - touching her face and hands. she unfolds in my arms, stretches as if waking there. so quiet, "ii - te," (mike, it hurts). i wince back. i look up at the taxi driver. sitting, he's smoking as if waiting for the light to change. he's scowling. he has so many faces.

eri is here now. "i'm fine, i'm ok" hiromi's eyes are open - a single mascara tear rolling from each. - her voice is so american. she sounds just like lola.

chiann and taku came to visit me in okayama! what a fabulous time we had! all together and happy - just like old times! saturday we all went drinking and dancing with eri and her friends (we all agreed that eri is the nazz). sunday we packed all the food and booze we would need and took a train way out into the countryside to stay at the villa in takebe! the villa was beautiful and right on the river - best of all, it had a hot spring! we took a dip after dark and then moved inside to cooperatively cook a giant dinner of yaki-soba and salad. we drank a jug of carlo, a milk carton of sake, and a 24 pack of malt-liquor-near-beer between us - 1020 would have been proud. we were still wearing our oh-so-japanese happi coats from our dip in the spring and it made for some great pictures. it was cold as hell. we all passed out and shivered through the night. chiann's ever-present death cough has been multiplied by her proximity to china and she shook our souls with it's depth. i blame the booze, the cold, and the chinamen for my contraction of the possession-flu.

- i don't think chinaman is the correct nomenclature
- you know in your heart that it is

scowling - he took his time. he was holding something. a clipboard. he spat and cursed. he walked around the cab and stood over hiromi, still propped up against his car. he pointed down at her with his crooked smoking fingers - many faces rolling over so many yellow teeth - he belched out some hateful accusation.

my fingers wrapped around the taped, familiar handle of the baseball bat i longed to find in my right hand. i wanted to scatter those broken, bleeding teeth all over the street.
he's asking for money. right here? now? snake. he's the one that will pay. eri, call the police.

- but you know that the light was red.
- i saw nothing. he will pay.

the police came and transformed from their blue suites into their space-man crime scene safety outfits: white helmets, silver reflective vests with red runner lights and illuminating hip packs. they took everyone's account of the situation and many measurements in the street. i was grateful that no one was interested in speaking to me - tough i've always preferred having the power of flight to the ability to disappear.

hiromi and eri were swept away by the taxi cab's insuranceman. a-ki and i were now alone. it was the first time i noticed her there, though she hadn't taken her eyes off me since the accident. we went out for coffee and and a kiss on the cheek. we were very happy.

here we are in takebe!