The thing about reunions, the dubious thrill of embarking on remedial kana on the cusp of 60, and 'Hey Rube...vol. 2'

We had to go over to Tsurumai Park to find some Ajisai (Japanese Hydrangea) that hadn't been completely done in by last week's heat wave (up to 37C - unheard of in mid-June)...and even there, the pickings were slim. This late bloomer was the nicest of the lot. Photo by Mina, of course!

The J-natives seem to have a real thing for reunion gatherings. Before the local onset of COVID back in February 2020, Mina would go to periodic izakaya meet ups with former classmates from an English Conversation class she took years before we met. If memory serves, she seemed to enjoy going - at least to some degree.

Of course, the pandemic put the breaks on all of that business for almost three full years, and to my knowledge they never re-started.

She also used to get intermittent messages from a shrinking gaggle of former section co-workers, pressuring her to join their semi-annual 'get togethers'. She blew them off the last time they tried to corner her in to going. As happens, the group had gradually dwindled to just a few 'core members', none of whom Mina had been particularly close to, or even liked.

While times change and people move on, there always seems to be a small, yet persistent core of diehard group minders behind the scenes. They'll doggedly attempt to co-ordinate alumni meet-ups, then message or call whoever is on their list and pressure them to attend. At best, their beckoning calls provoke casual indifference - at worst, they piss people off, and cause them to permanently bail. That's actually quite a feat, as most J-natives have real problems saying 'no' under duress.

In theory, manipulating people into attending these functions out of some sense of duty to 'the group' should be relatively easy, as groups and group-ism are surely a thing in these parts. The class. The team. The co-workers. The club.

*(I'm actually hesitant to include 'The family' for some reason. It may be that a lot of people appear to place greater importance on their relationships with outside groups than with their own kin)

Individuality is frowned upon; even considered selfish over here. If one doesn't relent and go to the reunion, it's a sign of selfishness. Putting oneself before the group is a 'no-no', and considered 'a shame'. If a group to which one has even a passing affiliation sends an invitation, and it's declined - even in the most polite way possible - it can be taken in a negative way. People will most certainly talk.

Shit talking the absent is definitely a thing over here.

In these parts, it's not at all uncommon for people to continue attending reunion meet ups with former classmates (kindergarten to university) well into late middle age. This absolutely boggles my mind. I can't fathom having to sit around a table making small talk with people that I went to kindergarten with fifty five years ago. These gatherings aren't free, either.

Are people here REALLY that sentimental, or does this kind of thing speak more to the stubbornly provincial nature of many 'average Japanese'? An unspoken, lifelong obligation to maintain old hometown social connections whether you like the 'usual suspects' or not, so as to preserve the integrity of said group.

Is the Japanese obsession with holding semi-regular reunions and maintaining these 'groups' actually a throwback to some kind of archaic 'clan mentality' from feudal times?

Truth be told, the Edo Period (1603-1868) - the height of Japanese provincialism and 'sakoku' (literally meaning 'chained country') really wasn't all that long ago.

The segregation of foreigners at Nagasaki-ya, as depicted in this 1802 ukiyo-e woodblock print by Katsuhika Hokusai.

When I first came here, I'd heard it said that most average Japanese had a tendency to spend the balance of their lives within 10 km of their birthplace. While it quickly became apparent that this was somewhat of a gross generalization, I do know a few J-natives in my age range that fit this bill.

Closing in on sixty, these guys still live and work in pretty close proximity to where they were born and raised. They walk the same streets, frequent the same establishments and run in the same social circles they have since they were kids. Inevitably their suns will set just as they rose, against the backdrop of that same narrow geographical strip.

This phenomenon is by no means particular to Japan. According to U.S. census information, six in 10 young adults live within 10 miles of where they grew up, while eight in 10 live within 100 miles. The reasons for this preference for proximity are fairly predictable - family, friends, jobs, regional familiarity and the often prohibitive expense of moving further afield.

Of course, the ritual of holding reunions isn't limited to the Japanese.

Back at my point of origin, there are high school reunions, and they can be sort of a big deal. I'm not certain of the intervals, as I wasn't around long enough after finishing art college to have ever had the opportunity to decline an invitation. I know that there's one after 10 years, and a major blow out at the 25 year mark. Post 25th, I have no idea.

As I graduated in 1984, my quarter century one would have been in 2009, at which point I'd already been out of the country for over 15 years. Long gone.

As for my personal experience with reunions...it's been limited, at best.

Around 15 years ago, I made a rather impromptu trip out to Vancouver for a couple of concerts that an old friend of mine was organizing. The art school punk band that I'd been involved with back in the day would be reuniting for the first time in almost twenty years to play a couple of nights, and the friend that was putting on the event suggested that I make a surprise appearance, it being Halloween and all. 'It will rule! Everyone will be shocked to see you!', and so on.

It didn't take much arm twisting before I booked a ticket and was on my way. It would be my second trip out after my Mum's passing, and the last time I'd ever visit my hometown. I stayed with my sister for ten days, which was always fun. Both my younger brother and 'J', an old formative years pal who had recently reconnected with my sister turned up to partake in the festivities, which was good fun. Though J and I hadn't seen each other for at least 15 years, we clicked back in right away.

As for the main event part, it was a bit of a mixed bag. There were a lot of faces from my art school and music scene days, and tons of drinking going down. The reunited band was fine, and the show was enjoyable enough. Unfortunately things went south with my younger brother after the show, and I don't think we spoke for several years after that. I guess I said something that displeased him toward the end of the evening. The joys of alcohol. Sadly, par for the course back in those days.

On the second night I went solo, and got up to join in on vocals for the one song that I'd put lyrics to on the band's singular album back in the late 80's. I'd been asked the night before, and had rather hoped that they'd just forget about it. Aside from being pretty hung over from the events of the night before, it was alright, I guess. As for 'everyone being so shocked', and so on...well, no one really cared. Sure, there were a few raised eyebrows, but beyond that, it was pretty apparent that the world had moved on. I don't know what I'd expected.

It's amazing what you can dig up on YouTube. The album came out in September 1989. I penned the lyrics to this one back in '87 or '88. It was my first published bit of musical word-smithery.

After the second show finished up, my 'great friends' ditched without saying much of anything. They didn't even flow me a re-union t-shirt, which I saw a few other people wearing. I wound up going to an after party on my own, where I stood around smoking and nursing a lukewarm can of Black Label like a lost fart in a sandstorm. After about an hour, I hailed a cab back to my sister's place.

I recall thinking that I probably should have just stayed in Japan, saved a heap of cash, and left well enough alone.

At a certain point, there really is no going back.

During the initial COVID outbreak, a trio of old friends from my high school days tracked me down through this very blog, and all sent messages. It was a really nice surprise, and flattering to be remembered. I'd thought of these guys often over the years, and even tried to track them down on FB, but hadn't had much success. 'G' and 'D' had pages that looked to have been dormant for years, while the third guy, 'L' was simply nowhere to be found.

After so many years of wondering what had happened to them, I was pleased to find that they were all still pushing wind, and apparently doing well. This was a lovely, unexpected 'reunion' of sorts.

Of the three (who had all stayed local and kept in touch over the years), 'L' had been a classmate, and an old 'partner in crime' from back in the eighth grade. In our email exchange, he mentioned that he'd actually gone to our 10 year grad class reunion fete, and said that while he'd had a 'moderately good time', most of the folks that he didn't like in 1984 were the ones he didn't like in '94, either. After that, he figured it was time to move on.

Had I been back there, it's all but certain that I would have avoided it like the plague. I wasn't leading any popularity polls back in my high school days. I had friends, of course...but they tended to be either two or three years older, or a couple of years younger than myself. Fellow outsiders and such. Aside from 'L', I'd only really had one other friend in my grad class. 'J.E.' crashed a small plane full of bike courier pals en route to Sea-Tac airport in the late 80's and they all died.

RIP, man.

It strikes me that J.E. was always playing this on his mother's car's crap cassette deck. Along with all the punk and thrash metal, we were into a lot of old school rap and hip hop back in the mid to late 80's, before it really caught fire in the mainstream - and started to suck arse.

In any case, the last thing I need is a bunch of jumped up drunken shits that I had no use for back in the 80's looking down their noses at me decades later. Bugger that.

In April I was summoned to revisit a significant face from my past. I never know quite what to make of it when characters from my long lost past suddenly re-emerge and want to meet up. I become a ball of nerves.

The Korea girl - my significant other from the gap years between Mme Lord Vader and Mina - had initially wanted to meet up late last summer, on her first post-COVID trip out to see her mother, who lives just outside of Nagoya. She had her three teenagers in tow, and was set to be here for two or three weeks during the height of August's withering heat. She messaged shortly after she arrived, but we never managed to set anything up.

The Korea Girl and I hadn't met up in almost twenty years, so naturally this was going to be kind of an anxious thing. Mina wondered what she wanted after all this time. While she said it didn't bother her, she knew that it was freaking me out a bit. When I'm anxious, I whinge, and my whinging works her out. It shatters her peace and tranquility.

Buddha gif

I was also keenly aware that were the proverbial 'shoe on the other foot' here, and an ex-boyfriend of Mina's suddenly started messaging her after 20 years trying to schedule a meet up, I probably wouldn't be too happy. It all boils down to that 'do unto others' business that religious types are always on about. I always make an extra effort to be mindful of stuff like this.

As far as what her objective was, I couldn't be certain. I still had a parcel of miscellaneous stuff that she'd left behind more than two decades ago. Perhaps that's what she was after? That she might simply just want to see me...it didn't really add up.

Who can guess what goes on in the minds of others.

Anyways, years and years ago, while Mina was on a cleaning and organizing kick, she found and gathered up all of The Korea Girl's 'forgotten' bits pieces and packed them into a carry-all shopping bag, which I was to pass to her if the opportunity arose. It didn't, and the bag had been gathering dust in the corner of our bedroom futon closet ever since.

In any case, the proposed late summer meet up never went down, and the whole business was largely filed and forgotten as the year end approached and my second skin cancer diagnosis took centre stage.

Then in late December, she sent a text messaged birthday greeting, and announced that she'd be coming back in March, and wanted to meet up then. She was persistent. It started eating at me. Why would she suddenly want to see me after all these years? Odd that she'd be coming back so soon, too. Travel isn't cheap these days. Something was definitely up.

Sure enough, toward the end of March, she texted that she'd arrived in Japan, and asked when I had time. Apparently her eldest daughter was going to start college in Nagoya from April, and she'd come to help her get set up and settled in. I suddenly felt really old. I suggested that we play it by ear, and to let me know when it was best, as her schedule became more clear. I was starting to stress out.

Maybe it would be like summer, and never actually materialize?

Over the initial COVID period (2020 -2023) and 'slow return to semi-normal' after the government finally dropped it's draconian travel restrictions (April 29th, 2023) I gradually became accustomed to a more solitary sort of existence.

When I don't need to go out to teach, I stay around our place. I generally don't 'hang out' or engage in any extra-curricular socializing these days. I've kind of had my fill of all that. Despite this, I'm active, and keep pretty busy. I'm not laying around in bed, or sitting in a dark room playing video games, jerking off and eating cup noodle.

It's not like I'm deliberately isolating, either...my routine has just evolved into one that tends to be more independent and localized. During those first three years of the pandemic, I adjusted my lifestyle and those changes ended up sticking.

Pre-COVID, I'd already taken a major step back from the problematic group of 'friends' I'd had over here for so many years. There aren't the parties, gigs or drinking forays there once were. This actually saves a lot of money - which is short these days, anyways.

From 2020-23, like most people, Mina and I fell in and adopted all of the recommended pandemic protocols. Keeping each other safe became priority number one. As I have underlying medical issues, I need to be a bit more vigilant than most people. That means social distancing, masking up in crowds or busy enclosed areas, and keeping up with my boosters.

Watching Mina's sister's husband die alone on a ventilator in Sept. 2020 really had a profound impact on our attitudes from the outset of all this nasty business.

In the contemporary Japanese vernacular, people who withdraw from the social arena and isolate at home are referred to as 'hikkikomori', which loosely translates as 'shut in' or 'recluse'. Of course, the media is all over this, sensationalizing and stigmatizing it. In short, it seems that a lot of predominantly middle-aged Japanese (men in particular) just retreat from life in general after running into adversity or hitting the inevitable 'rough patch'. They close themselves off socially and physically, live like ghosts and gradually fall through the cracks. Many rely on the support of family, who are at loss as to how to cope with them, and end up just sort of enabling their isolation.

The French refer to an anti social individual as a 'misanthrope' (someone who dislikes people, social situations or associating with others), which I sort of like the sound of.

Truth be told, I've always kind of despised people, and dreaded socializing. As far as the business of social isolation goes, it strikes me that a lot of so-called misanthropes actually enjoy being out and about, actively hating and despising everyone.

I always thought that was what being a punk rocker was all about - or at least, that was the big attraction for me. Parading around half pissed, dressed like a bloody eyesore, and being a general misfit and curmudgeon. Kind of like the Sex Pistols of old. Good times.

The old time blow it out your arse Sex Pistols doing their infamous Bill Grundy TV outrage bit. This was like the blue print for anti-social back in the day.

As far as 'hikkikomori' goes...I suppose the jury's out on that one. For the record, I don't actually have a problem going out. It's just the prospect of having to attend meet ups or social events that triggers anxiety and dread.

Grappling with this is kind of strange, considering my rather loud and gregarious past incarnations. I definitely haven't been a shrinking violet. I wonder if it's the cumulative result of long term ex-pat fatigue? Maybe it's just my age. Perhaps a combination of factors?

Or could it be that quitting cigarettes, curtailing my once prolific drinking, and no longer being able to partake in cannabis - the great social lubricants that I relied on for so many years - ultimately left me somewhat rudderless?

With those reliable old crutches largely gone, putting myself out there feels a lot more daunting.

Anyways, I digress...

The Korea Girl messaged me again about a week later and we settled on April 10th.

We'd meet up for a couple of hours around mid-day at Kanayama, a commercial area and transportation hub about twenty minutes walk from our danchi. As luck would have it, rain was forecast for the day, but good fortune smiled, and it had all but stopped when I struck out across the park and up the hill to the station. Of course, I very nearly forgot the bag of stuff Mina had put together. Five minutes out the door empty handed, and I had to make a be line back to grab it.

I made it up the hill and to opposite side of the station I told her that I would meet her at with about ten minutes to spare.

She texted that she was running about 20 minutes late. Of course, it didn't occur to me that I was at the wrong end of the station until she messaged again and asked where I was. Trust me to have a sudden fit of dyslexia and get everything flipped around. Nerves, I guess. Typical. I crossed the station and spotted her pretty quick.

After 20 years and a big chunk of living, it seemed that time hadn't really touched her. At a loss for where to go, we ended up across the street at Denny's, where we ordered a couple of over-priced draught beers and a plate of crappy french fries. We small talked. I expressed my condolences over the passing of her father and younger brother, both of whom I'd spent time with in Korea. She was close with them, and they were good people. To make matters worse, she'd also lost her husband rather suddenly a few years ago. In turn, she said that she'd been sorry to hear about my Mum's passing.

In spite of some pretty hard knocks, she smiles broadly. She's tough, smart and resilient. She talked about her three kids with pride, and showed smartphone pictures of family outings and her boyfriend of ten years. She said that she had a good job teaching Japanese, English and Chinese to children, as well.

Three languages! She's a genius.

As for me, I didn't really have much to say. Considering her losses, I didn't want to brag about what a lovely wife and great marriage I've been blessed with...so I stuck with the safe stuff. My business had pretty much crashed, and money was tight. Then there was the skin cancer business, and the drama and falling out with my former Japanese friends leaving me 'persona non grata' on the old social scene. I'd become a solo entity - kind of like an untouchable. Oh - and I still couldn't speak Japanese fluently. This seemed extra pathetic. I regaled her with absolutely no grand stories of riches, travel and/or brilliant kids. I had nothing to boast or brag about. I was glad to let her do most of the talking, and close to 3pm, her phone started ringing, so it was time to wrap things up. I went to the bathroom and when I got back, she'd paid the bill, (which I had meant to pick up), and was ready to go.

I passed her the bag of stuff that Mina had packed, and we walked over toward the North side of the station. I wanted to go to the ticket gates with her, but she said she was on her way to scope out the smoking area on the third level of the station's shopping complex, as she wouldn't be able to partake at her mother's place.

As I'm no longer on the ciggy train, I gave her a quick hug, thanked her for the beer, and turned to head back down to Jingu Higashi Park. I turned once to wave as she quickly receded into the melee in front of the station, and that was it.

We'd had a nice visit. It was flattering that she'd made time in her busy schedule to come into town to see me. There was no 'bad news', or anything ominous or untoward. As usual, I had worked myself up over nothing.

When I got back, I was overcome with an odd wave of melancholy. I sat down at the computer and noticed a couple of unopened text messages. The Korea Girl had sent along a note with a little smiling emoji, saying that it had been nice to meet me, and not to worry so much.

'Life is so much happier than what you're worrying about!!'

To be honest, I'm not sure how to interpret this. Is it positive or negative? While it's certain that worrying doesn't solve anyone's problems, I'm not sure that I would minimize someone's concerns with such a dismissive statement. Meh. I'm probably just being over sensitive.

My conclusion?

While I wasn't overly verbose, I probably should have done a better job of keeping myself to myself. I probably bummed her out with my sad sack whinging. 'Talk less, and listen more' is always a great rule of thumb in these types of situations.

To be attentive, and guide the flow of conversation away from oneself is always a winning strategy.

Anyways, 'Don't worry, be happy', as that patronizing old song goes. As annoying as it is, it's actually pretty sound advice. Buddhism 101.

I suddenly felt old and a bit pathetic. The passage of twenty years, and the gulf between here and there...it was all a bit overwhelming. While only a matter of nine years separates us, I suddenly felt every bit of my nearly six decades, with the present weight of all of my perceived deficits, insecurities and shortcomings staring me down. It suddenly felt like I hadn't covered as much ground as I maybe should have. Could it be that I've become too complacent of late?

I felt unsuccessful.

This kind of sums it all up. "Here comes my Chinese rug". Yeah. We got one of those Chinese rugs from Cainz Home a couple of years ago, but it's probably not the same thing. Still...

Maybe it’s all relative. People can say all kinds of things and show off to impress their friends at casual meet-ups. No one really knows the true ins and outs of anyone else's reality.

Regardless, it was a couple of days before I finally managed to shake off the blue, melancholic funk I'd found myself in.

Reunions.

Go figure.

About a month ago it occurred to me that I needed to do something about my apparently flagging self esteem. I'd been experiencing some anxiety of late, and couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. Maybe the root of all this started manifesting shortly after the Korea Girl meet up in early April.

I'd started feeling a bit insecure, and had been fixating on the passage of time. This, in turn, triggered a sort of grand realization that I'd actually been here for just over half of my life...and still hadn't mastered the language to the point where I could read a sign or menu (beyond the characters for like 'ramen' or 'beer'), or actually converse beyond survival basics.

How on earth did I wind up in this predicament?

In the beginning, as a newbie here teaching English, I didn't really give the language barrier a second thought. I was always busy working or taking in all the wild and fascinating stuff around me...and partying. I certainly did a lot of that.

I arrived with Ms. T during the waning days of Japan's economic bubble period in September, 1989. We were young and fresh out of post secondary. It was the end of the old world, before the advent of mobile phones and the internet in everyone's pocket. Still very much 'Showa-Showa' Japan. Things were vastly different.

Fresh off the plane, Ms. T's Aunt C (sort of our mentor) - who'd preceded our arrival here by a year - kindly put us up at her rented house in Yamashina, just outside of Kyoto. She gave me a couple of kana study workbooks that I'd always meant to start on, but with all the distractions it just never happened. For a twenty-something gaijin, late 80'/early 90's Japan was a massive adventure.

As time moved on and my surroundings changed, bilingual people around me - mostly Japanese friends and family - always helped me out with the official document stuff that needed some level of Japanese language acumen, and I managed to skate by doing all that other 'fun stuff', in a state of what I can only describe as 'blissful ignorance'.

I'd attempted to study Japanese during my longer stop gap period back in Vancouver (91-94), and had even taken a continuing education night school course (a freebie, as I was working at the school board at the time), but it simply glazed over a lot of basic stuff that I already knew, and we never managed to get to the kana learning section of the textbook before the weekly three month course wound down. That must have been in 1992.

I think I ended up coming to Nagoya for three months with Mme Lord Vader shortly thereafter, then started my English teaching business when we returned to Vancouver that summer. That lasted for a couple of years, until the fates swept us back to Japan a bit earlier than anticipated. Then it was a scramble to rebuild my English teaching concerns from scratch in Nagoya. The Japanese I'd pick up along the way would be happenstance, and on the fly. I was too busy to take any formal classes. Besides, Mme Lord Vader basically took care of all of my 'Nihongo business'.

Funny, it hasn't been until the last few years that it's started making me feel a bit insecure. Sure, I can almost get by on the simple basics. I have a lot of vocabulary that I can kind of cobble together when I need to make myself understood.

It's like I have all these bits and pieces of Japanese language scrambled up like Legos in a box, and when I need to say something, I dump that box out on the table, and fish through the mess of blocks looking for what I need to put together a rough approximation of what I want to express. I call it 'Lego Nihongo' (Lego Japanese). it ain't pretty, but in sort of crude and simple terms, it gets the job done. If I get stuck, I often throw in a bit of simple 'gairaigo' (Japanese loan word English) and a pinch of pantomime, just for good measure...and that usually seals the deal.

Anyways, at height of my post reunion funk about a month ago I rather suddenly decided that I needed to take on a new project. I did a bit of searching around and found a couple of well reviewed and 'almost free' kana learning apps for my iPad. I dug around in my former classroom (now makeshift office space) and found the two kana learning exercise books that Mina had bought for me at a kids book market over at Apita several years ago, and resolved to start that journey - albeit thirty something years late.

This is kind of similar to when I got tired of my Fat Elvis phase and suddenly decided to lose weight around twelve years ago. I knew it would be a long road, and that I'd just have to get into a routine and stick with it. I ended up losing 40 kgs over the next few years, give or take. I've stuck with it, and kept the weight off, too

A month in, and I'm still hammering away, drilling and doing a bit of practice every day. I really wondered if my mind would be able to actually absorb anything long term at this late stage of the game. Could I still learn? It's slow going. Katakana first - then Hiragana. It's not a race. After that, I'll attempt some Kanji (Chinese characters). This will be a longterm, ongoing project. Like the running business. A new part of my routine.

So far, I've covered all fifty basic characters, and filled three notebooks attempting to learn how to write them. It can be a bit confusing, as some of the characters and phonetic sounds are very similar, but the app that I'm using now is helpful.

For the first time, I've been able to kind of read at least parts of some of the labels and signage around me. The incremental progress is encouraging. Of course, I'm now even busier than I was... but feeling a bit better, too. The first step is always the fucker. Like with exercise, or anything. Once you start and gather a bit of momentum, it's easy enough to keep going.

Another long term project. Let's see where it goes.

Volume 2 - Mid-summer '25

5) Maru - Learn Japanese Hiragana 2.13.1

This is available to download on all the major app stores. I'm currently using the free version, which has really been fine - except for the occasional ads dropping in and fucking up my concentration when I make too many mistakes doing the character drills. The paid version costs ¥3000, and has a few extra features like an offline mode, writing and keyboarding practice, timed exercises and an expanded vocabulary section. I may or may not bust out for that at some point, but for now, the free version suits my needs. It's easy to follow and get accustomed to using, and in combination with a notebook for practicing writing the characters and a children's level Katakana text, it's really good enough. I downloaded another one ( Kana - Hiragana and Katakana), but I've yet to try it out, as Maru has this 'cute' mascot character (less threatening - lol) and seems to cover everything I need so far. It uniformly boasts a really high user rating (5/5). So far, a big thumbs up. If you suddenly feel like diving in and attempting to learn kana, this is a nice place to start.

4) Andor

It's been a bit of a bumpy ride for Star Wars fans since Disney bought Lucasfilm in October 2012. While The Force Awakens - their first cinematic offering - did big box office and was generally well received, its two follow ups fell considerably short of the mark.

During Disney's typical (yet unfortunate) money grab franchise saturation period, there were two additional movie releases, Rogue One - A Star Wars Story, and Solo - A Star Wars Story. The former fared a lot better than the latter, which suffered as result of being released too soon after The Last Jedi, the divisive (and much maligned) second installment of their ill-fated sequel trilogy. 'Solo' was such an unmitigated box office failure that it forced a complete re-think of how Disney/Lucasfilm were going to move forward with future projects. Pity, because it was actually really good.

The studio's focus shifted away from the cinema, and towards the creation of live action content for its new streaming service, Disney Plus.

Their first show, The Mandalorian, was a massive hit. Other consequent offerings were met with mixed reactions. While 'The Book of Boba Fett' seemed to fall short of rather high expectations, Obi-Wan did a bit better. Ashoka (a follow on from the surprisingly good animated Rebels series) did a bit better still.

Season One of Andor was conceived as something of a prequel to the successful Rogue One standalone movie. It was generally well received and favourably noted for its more serious tone - though some complained that it was too slow paced and 'boring' (have I mentioned that Star Wars fans are essentially a bunch of entitled whiners and crybabies?).

Last December, the studio trotted out its year-end TV offering, The Acolyte. It seems that there were high hopes attached to this particular project on the studio end. It was apparently the most expensive of all the streaming productions thus far. Long story short, it was a complete misfire. Bad, bad, embarrassingly bad. Poorly written, badly casted, and generally ill conceived. A franchise low.

Fast forward to April 22nd. The studio's only live action franchise offering of the year, Andor - Season 2 drops. This time around, there would be three nearly hour long episodes every Wednesday, culminating in a total of 12 after a month. In a big turnaround, the show was almost universally lauded as the best thing to come out of the troubled franchise in many years.

My opinion? I won't lie - it's long winded. By the time I get around to watching these things, I'm already precariously close to passing out, and I did drift off more than a couple of times over the course of the 12 chapters. That said, the show is definitely worth watching. It's not kid's fare. It's a first class production, and thoughtfully put together. There's also a rare and welcome dose of social/political relevance, which makes it particularly thought provoking and memorable.

I plan on sitting down and re-watching the whole thing through again when I have time. Fantastic stuff.

3) Sapore Chicken and Rice bento box

Cheaper than a McDonald's, and the portion size is actually just enough. For quality stuff, these guys kill it.

Sapore is a specialty/high end supermarket with two outlets in Nagoya (both within 10 minutes drive of our place) and one in Mie Prefecture. It's been a long time food go-to for us, and was particularly amazing during COVID, when most restaurants and eating establishments were either shuttered, or limited in their abilities to conduct business as usual. The attraction? Quality. Their deli section fare, while a wee bit more expensive than at your standard local supermarket, is generally far better. Less junky, and more akin to Japanese home cooking. The chicken and rice bento box, coming in at ¥680 is one of our standard choices. I usually add a bit of sesame oil, and freshly chopped green onions (negi) before I lightly heat it in the microwave. The key is not to overdo it. At 500 watts, 1:40 should be more than sufficient. Post heating you can add sauces or just eat it as is, which Mina likes to do. Cheaper than a McDonald's.

2) Tiovita Gold + Cannatech 50mg CBD/CBG gummies

Don't leave home without them. lol.

This is my go-to combo for those mornings I have to hump it out to the kindergarten, or do an hour with the sometimes less than enthusiastic scrappin' tweens. I've tried a lot of 'genki drinks' in my time over here, and while Tiovita Gold is a bit smaller (30ml) than my other go-to, Yunker Spark (50ml), it packs more of a punch. To smooth out the edges, I've found that Cannatech's extra-strength CBD/CBG gummies (25mg CBD/25mg CBG) are the perfect foil. Of course, these chewy sweets take a bit of time to kick in, so I have a single fruity bear about 45 minutes before downing the Tiovita and heading out. While Mina doubts their true efficacy (she figures it's all 'placebo effect'), I find that I'm less easily rattled and in generally finer fettle after a gummy and Tiovita when I need to go do my 'Singing and Dancing English Monkey' routine.

1) Iggy Pop Live at Montreaux Jazz Festival 2023

This is another one that I gleaned off of the 'recommended for you' list on my streaming app (Amazon Music Unlimited, if anyone needs to know). I've been a big fan of Iggy's since I was 16, when I picked up a used copy of his David Bowie produced TV Eye Live 1977 album at Zulu Records back in Vancouver. Anyone familiar with that album will know that most of it sounds like an abrasive bootleg recording. While the performances and material are all top notch, the incongruous patchwork nastiness of the album's production can wear thin. I used to wonder if Bowie did this on purpose, to give it the same cheap and shitty feel as Iggy and the Stooges' classic Raw Power album, which he cobbled together from reams of chaotic session tapes back in 1973, after Iggy and the band spent all of their recording money on drugs, then drove their equipment packed van under a low bridge, trashing the lot.

Fast forward half a century, and through some absolute miracle, Iggy Pop is still at it - now 78 years old, and a revered 'elder statesman' of rock. While he remains a first class performer, my expectations weren't high when I clicked in to listen to this while I did my 21km on the spin bike one cruddy spring morning. His recent studio offerings have all felt kind of phoned in, and a lot of the live recordings that come out are kind of shitty sounding slap-dash affairs.

This is a happy exception. From the get-go...'boom!'. I was blown away. Great set, some nice deep cuts, a couple of new things, and some unexpected offerings, all bristling with energy. Exciting stuff. His voice is still there. The band is tight and on point, the added brass section actually compliments the material instead of making it sound 'Vegas', and it all sounds big and great. I actually want to order a physical copy of this from Amazon, as it comes with a blu-ray disc of the proceedings that is apparently worth a look. As it doesn't seem like we'll be getting out to any shows this summer, this will likely be it.

And there we have it. Another grand cud chew, and a wrap until autumn is once again upon us. A fine summer to all the stalwarts who've stuck with me this far. Don't forget your sunscreen, and stay hydrated...it seems that we'll be in for another withering near end of day's experience.

Until next time, you'd of course do well to remember that, 'no matter where you go, there you are'. There and nowhere else (I would assume).

Off around the park again...it's lovely and green this season, and the ample shade is no doubt good for my delicate blanched white skin. I imagine I'll be spending a bit more time making the rounds here than up the scorching, sweltering Horikawa canal this summer. The last thing I need is another dose of skin cancer by year's end...or heat stroke and an ambulance ride over to the hospital.