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Drew Hamilton’s Home Page — Serving No Useful Purpose Since 1994
Drew Hamilton’s Home Page — Serving No Useful Purpose Since 1994Drew Hamilton’s Home Page — Serving No Useful Purpose Since 1994Drew Hamilton’s Home Page — Serving No Useful Purpose Since 1994Drew Hamilton’s Home Page — Serving No Useful Purpose Since 1994
You ran towards me, arms flailing, shouting at me in angry Japanese. Although I didn’t particularly agree with your rant, I was forced to continue listening to it as I put on my helmet, got my bike out of its spot, and waited for the engine to warm up enough that I could take off. And then I left you, Mr. Ranter, with my six-letter, two-word response to your ramblings: “Bite me.”
On my way home, I realized that this was probably quite rude of me. If you’re like most Japanese people I’ve met, your knowledge of colloquial English is nothing to write home about, but here I was assuming that you understood what I meant. So, in the interest of promoting a cross-cultural exchange of ideas and information, I decided to write this post explaining what the English expression “bite me” actually means. Essentially, the meaning is as follows:
Ah, I can assume that you are my neighbour in the motorcycle parking area at the hardware store. Nice to meet you. Now, as you can see, this motorcycle parking area is like most in Tokyo; it’s just a big square painted in the corner of a parking lot with a “motorcycles” sign on it. Riders are left to their own devices to park in a reasonable manner.
Now, my bike has a manual-shift gearbox; your first clue should have been the presence of a gear-change pedal down by the left footrest and the accompanying clutch-release lever on the handlebars. What this means, dear neighbour, is that at bare minimum, I have to be able to get into the left side of my bike enough to be able to shift into Neutral and push it out of my space.
By your angry shouting and frantic arm-waving, I can see that you are upset. But fear not, dear neighbour! I am not trying to steal your bike! Yes, it is true that my bike is just a dinky little 50cc moped, but so is yours.. And yours is 10 years old, rusted out, with an auto-shift transmission, and held together with marijuana-themed bumper stickers. I think I’ll stay with my brand-new one, thank you very much.
No, I am not stealing your bike, I only plan to swing the back end out a few inches so I can wedge myself in to put my bike in neutral. However, if it is really important to you that nobody even touch your beautiful rusted-out Jog, perhaps you might consider leaving more than 2 inches between your bike and the one next door.
See, as you can see, “bite me” is a very useful English phrase. Use it wisely!
I have posted up my most recent (and some older) test videos on YouTube. They are not public videos, though (other people appear in them…), so if you want to watch them, you’ll need an account (free) on YouTube. Make a YouTube account, then go to my profile where you will find an “Add As Friend” link. Click on that link and then wait for me to add you.
Anyway, once you’re added, you will be able to see these videos:
Most Recent Videos
My 4th-kyu test, taken March 17, 2007, at Roppongi Yoshinkan Aikido in Tokyo. Sempai John Honeyman acts as uke for the techniques; Head Sensei Roland Thompson and Sensei Michael Stuempel grade the test. The test was about 14 minutes long.
Basically, some guy posts to a BBS, “Some guy hit me in a hit-and-run, here’s his description, if anyone sees him please call the cops.” And minutes later, someone replies, complete with high-resolution photos of the accident and the driver peeling away, “You mean this guy?”
Yay for the internet!
[Edit: Apparently the news found out about it; the story is below:]
A recent addition to convenience store shelves here is a shock rag entitled “Foreigner Crime File”. Intended to highlight crime committed by foreigners, presumably to incite hatred and a desire to rid Japan of immigrants, the magazine features photograps, articles, and stories about foreign crime.
The cover features cartoons of non-Japanese people, all with glowing bloodshot evil eyes, and all of whom look like contestants in some Stereotype Contest. The back cover features a world map giving a “danger rating” for each country, decorated with knives, guns, and skulls. The inside is full of headlines about how Tokyo is decending into lawlessness at the hands of “degenerate criminal aliens”. There are articles featuring photographs taken on the street of (somewhat gross, but obviously consensual) public displays of affection between foreign men and Japanese women, featuring captions such as “Hey nigger! Why are you touching a Japanese woman’s ass!” and “Asshole! Go back to your own country and kiss your own women!”. There are articles describing the differences between Korean prostitutes and Japanese ones (hint: kimchee aroma). There are photographs of foreign men drunk on the sidewalk (Japanese men, of course, never get drunk). In short, they haul out every disgusting stereotype that they can think of in order to make their point.
As you will have guessed, this magazine has caused quite a buzz among the foreign community in Japan, but try as I might, I just can’t bring myself to be too offended by this. It’s hard to describe the reason exactly, but essentially I liken it to the 3-year-old pitching a temper tantrum and calling you a poopy-head. Sure, at the moment that he says it, he hates you more than anything else in the world. But any legitimate point that he may have is completely and totally lost in the over-the-top delivery, the childishness, andthe poor execution of the message, and you find yourself actually amused at the crude attempts to offend you, and embarrassed for him that he failed so completely.
The only thing that bothers me a bit is that Family Mart, a convenience store chain that employs many of the same Degenerate Criminal Aliens™ that the magazine tries to offend, chose to sell this thing. On the plus side, some regular Japanese folks seem to realize that this thing is nasty—never in my 30+ years have I seen anyone as akward and embarrassed as the manager of my local Family Mart when I plunked the magazine down on the counter in front of him…
Last june, I bought myself a used scooter. Believe me, this thing is not a big “get out of my way” hog by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it’s powered by the very same engine and drive train that runs such things as chainsaws and weed-whackers. Still, it can pretty much beat a car in Tokyo (traffic here usually only moves at about 40 km/h, and I can blow right past huge lines of cars that are waiting for red lights…)
The thing’s been great for me; No longer is Tokyo for me just a collection of islands that surround the train stations that I go to. Now I have a great understanding of how it all works together. Every day I get to witness people going about their lives as I travel from home to the dojo, from client to client, from the office to dinner with friends… That said, there are still some things that just stick in my craw:
Cyclists who ride on the wrong side of the street. The moped law says that I have to stick in the left (outside) lane. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve moved right to avoid a parked car and almost come to a head-on collision with some cyclist who is riding up the wrong side of the road. If you’re gonna be on the road, obey the laws of the road, yeesh.
Motorcycle riders who have magical feet of balancing. These guys ride along with their feet 1cm above the pavement, going 50 km/h. Presumably the feet are out there to help keep them balanced, but come on. I can keep my bike upright at 10% of that speed. And let’s be realistic; if your motorcycle decides that it’s going to break the law of gyroscopic procession and tip over when you’re going 50 km/h, there’s not much that your feet are going to be able to do to prevent that.
In a similar vein: Scooter riders who ride with their knees stuck straight out to the sides. Seriously, guys, if they need to be aired out that badly, you should probably just take a shower or something.
Utility trucks with lights and sirens. OK, the gas company, I agree with 100%. Even the water company, I could see them having to go to some emergency. But the electric company?! “We’ve got an electricity leak down at Tameike! Ohms and volts are spilling everywhere! Better put on the siren!”
The fact that ambulances have to beg people to move out of the way. Jeez, people, there’s a dying person in there. Yes, that dying person needs to be somewhere even more urgently than you do. Deal with it.
People who throw cigarettes out the window. Even in Toronto, this one always annoyed me, in a “litterbugs!” sense. Now that I’m on a scooter, it takes a much more personal meaning. Since none of these geniuses has managed to hit me yet, I don’t know from personal experience, but it’s only a matter of time before I find out first-hand that it is neither fun nor conducive to safe riding to have a crotch full of burning tobacco.
Left-Hand Drive + Expensive Car = Motorcycle Lane Gets Blocked. It doesn’t happen with cheap left-hand drive cars (garbage trucks, delivery vehicles, someone’s crappy buick station wagon that they bought while they were transferred to the USA). And it doesn’t happen with expensive right-hand drive cars. But you take a Mercedes, put a steering wheel on the left side, and I can guarantee you that that person will be half in the motorcycle lane and half in his own lane every single time he pulls up to a red light. Since the left-hand drive would tend to make him sit right of his lane, the only reason I can think of for this phenomenon is that the guy thinks of himself as More Important Than Everybody Else™ (he is a middle manager, after all), and it gets his goat that people on $400 scooters are just blowing by his expensive car while he sits in traffic.
Even so, it’s a lot of fun.. Just had to get that off my chest.
Just heard from drinking buddy (who only drinks orange juice) Blair Falahey who has just finished his second over-8000-meter mountain climb this year. The first was Everest this spring, and the second was Cho Oyu which he summitted (without supplimental oxygen) on the morning of October 1st.Cho Oyu was a special one for him, as three years ago, he lost most of his fingertips to frostbite on a failed summit attempt on that mountain, and was told that he’d never climb again. He’s nicknamed this year’s Cho Oyu climb “Unfinished Business”.
From Blair’s email about summiting:
just before the sun rises is usually the coldest part of the day. and this day was to be no exception. when i stopped to rewarm my hands i reached to touch my nose and realised i could not feel it. it was totally numb. so i spent 5 mins rewarming my nose. an italian friend passed by and i stopped him to ask what colour my nose was. he answered “red”.
“red is good i thought. red means its still alive”. i put my mitts back on and continued on to the summit. i could only take a few steps at a time.then stop and double over my trekking pole until i had my breathe back and had recovered.
finally at 7.44am.6 3/4hrs after leaving my tent i reached the true summit of cho oyu(8201m). you know you have reached the true summit because you can see everest. normally i would take out my sat phone and call my dad. but i was too tired and too cold to do so. the wind was whipping the summit and i had lost any desire to do anything other than absolute necessary.
Anyway, I encourage everyone to go and check out the photos from his Everest climb that are on his web site and to keep on watching for the photos from Cho Oyu that are bound to be up there once he gets back to Japan…
The Borg model, which had intricate black latticework, was expected to sell for $1,500 at most, but one bidder decided it was worth $96,000. The captain’s chair, which belonged to the show’s Capt. Jean-Luc Picard, was expected to bring in $9,000, less than a fifth of its actual price: $52,000.
There are worse things to spend one’s money on, I suppose. It’s not really my cup of tea, but if you’re a rich Star Trek fan, why not?
The only thing I know about Star Trek is that there are giant hamsters named Tribbles… I wonder if they auctioned any of those guys off…
I found myself with The First Cold Of The Season™ the other day and discovered to my chagrin that I was completely out of DayQuil. I neglected to buy enough during my last trip home, and you sure as heck can’t get it in Japan without a prescription.
Japan in general seems less keen on the idea of self-medication than we do in the west. Even asking questions about your medical treatments is a bit odd (Doctor: “You’re sick, I’ve got to give you medicine.” Patient: “What sort of medicine?” Doctor: “White pills and brown powder”). I remember my friend lecturing me a bit (about taking medicine without asking a doctor first) after I gave her some ibuprofen to help with the pain of her broken wrist. What I mean to say, I guess, is that there aren’t a whole lot of people around who can “recommend a good brand of over-the-counter cold medicine for me”. Nonetheless, I was out of DayQuil, and I hate having to budget for how many times per year I can get sick, so I decided to hunt around for a Japanese brand that I could “trust”.
So, standing in the “cold medicine” section of the pharmacy, I was faced with a bewildering array of choices. How on earth do you even choose what’s good? At home, you have “the brand my parents used to give me when I was a kid” as a guide. At the very least, you can go for “brand recognition”—anything that there’s a TV commercial for must be good. Well, and of course you can’t discount the placebo effect. For both my mother and sister, Advil is more effective than generic Ibuprofen because they think it is. Not only do I not have my “childhood brands”, but I also don’t have TV ads (pharmaceutical ads don’t make the one Japanese TV show that I watch), and certainly I don’t trust any of them enough for the placebo effect to kick in.
All of the drugs say roughly the same thing… spending any amount of time with a dictionary will show you that they all claim to cure fever, runny or blocked nose, cough, phlegm, watery eyes, etc. The worst thing is that I was standing there, deep in the thick thick cloud of stupid that for me seems to accompany the first few days of any cold. So, I grabbed a random box that said “extra strong” and was done with it.
And, for about 2 minutes, I was surprised at how cheap and effective the medicine was. Comparing the “active ingredients per tablet”, the Japanese brand compared favourably with the DayQuil (actually, with the generic no-name DayQuil substitute). This surprised me greatly, as Ibuprofen, for example, costs $10.00 for the equivalent of 13 American-strength pills (200mg). Unfortunately, my happiness was short-lived, as I actually noticed that on the Japanese box, I was looking at “active ingredients per 6 pills”. So, the Japanese stuff works just fine, as long as you take 12 pills at the same time, which means that a single dose is about $4.00.
Yeah, I did find some working Japanese pills, but for the money, I think I’ll get more Generic DayQuil Substitute™ next time I’m in Canada.
Stumpy’s instructions for preparing roast garlic. We couldn’t remember what a “group” of garlic was called (“a head”) so he made this recipe so that we’d remember.
Take off as much paper as possible from the garlic heads (without separating the cloves)
Cut off the top of all the cloves
Drizzle olive oil over the (open) tops of the cloves. Add salt, pepper, rosemary, thyme, other spices.
Put garlic heads into a muffin tin with a bit of water in the bottom of each space
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