Two crazy ways to wake up

 

This is a new(ish?) green tea blend from Asahi. It's called Morning Blend. Know  what's so morning about it? It's zero caffeine. You know, just what you want in the morning. What?! I hope you've noticed that I don't like to be all "Whoa, Japan's k-k-krazy," but this defies explanation. What's the point?

Okay, I promised two crazy things, but this second is actually totally reasonable in comparison: breakfast ramen. I wrote about this "asa-ramen" for pulse. Tokyo Walker, a magazine that has a bit of a tendency to cry Trend! called it a trend. Actually, they called it a "boom."  I would want to see a line around every ramen shop on every corner to feel comfortable going with "boom," but there do seem to be more ramen shops open at dawn now than a few years ago, so I don't mind saying "an increasing number." (See how boring it is inside my head?)

Please check out the story. It has a photo of a big, greasy bowl of ramen at the top. If you're on the breakfast side of the world and that doesn't sound appetizing, you can come back at lunch time.

I've never had ramen for breakfast, but I would. I got used to savory breakfast (fish, rice, miso soup, pickles, leftover sushi) the first time I was here. No different than a slice of cold pizza for breakfast, really. And we all like that, don't we?

Two videos for you

These have both been making the rounds. Maybe slightly different rounds. I thought it would be fun to have them both in one place.

This one is a 10-minute silent film (with nifty intertitles like "Rice, the bread of the East...") My friend Roy posted it on Twitter.

The second is called Hayaku, and it's a beautiful stop-motion tour by Brad Kremer of some of the same places almost a century later.

Hayaku: A Time Lapse Journey Through Japan from Brad Kremer on Vimeo.

Take this ring and smash it

Writing for Pulse has been fun. But it got so much more fun with this story about divorce ceremonies in Japan that end with a cathartic smashing of rings. I found a short story about the phenomenon in a Japanese magazine and figured it had already been done to death in the English media - it sounds like that kind of story. It's gotten a ton of coverage in the Japanese (and Korean) media, but the only place it had been picked up in English was in an un-bylined story in the Mainichi, in translation from a Japanese story they'd done about it. Not even a photo.

I pieced together a story from a few Japanese reports online and the blog of the guy who runs the ceremonies, Hiroki Terai, but there were some discrepancies that didn't sit right with me. I made a quick call, expecting an endless runaround with some corporate PR department who would demand ID and faxes and the right to check the story before it went out. Instead, I reached a friendly older-sounding woman (imagine, at Friendly Travel), who answered my questions and gave me the cell number for the divorce guy himself. Terai picked up right away, and we chatted for 45 minutes. He was so interesting and sincere about what he's doing: providing a clear, dignified way to mark the end of a marriage and make a positive start to a new phase of life. If the photos make it all look a little goofy, that speaks more to his sense of humor than to a lack of seriousness.
Blogs are under no obligation to get quotes - they're often just an endless circle of links to each other, or to original content in other forms. Not necessarily bad, that's just generally where we fit into the information ecosystem. But since Terai was so accessible, it seemed like a waste not to just go ahead and rock some direct talk. It was so much more fun to write it that way.
I was a little afraid that my friends at Mutant Frog would give it the 2D Love treatment. (I'm not sure if I'm proud or disappointed that they didn't.) We did get some hostile, nutty comments on Pulse, but not the "You're sensationalizing!!1!" kind I was expecting. Something about writing about Japan makes people slap around broad, cliche-soaked brushes. I wouldn't be surprised if the next person who writes about the ring-smashing ceremony throws in some eye-popping sloppy numbers and overgeneralizations. That story will probably be more fun to read. But for now, check out mine.

You got your tomato juice in my lemonade!

The purple potato latte is gone (obviously a spring drink) and has been replaced by a light, summery lemonade - with a little tomato juice blended in. Even in this line's signature gorgeous photography, this looks gross. Even the shininess of the tomato can't distract from the fact that the tomato juice is spreading like spilled blood in the pitcher of lemonade.
But once again, they've pulled it off. Maybe it's just the power of suggestion, but it tastes like no more and no less than what's pictured on the box: limes, lemon, honey, fresh ginger and tomatoes. When you put it that way, it doesn't sound so bad, right? Sweet and refreshing with just a hint of savory. I hear they also have a thick gelee version, which sounds like tomato aspic in a box and which I hope not to try.
Ah, who am I kidding. Watch this space...

Yoga-writing challenge

I don't really write or even talk about yoga that much. I do it once in a while, sort of often, mostly at home. I've been to a few classes in Tokyo. The places I tried introductory offers at were elegant (black mats, wafting aroma oils) and expensive. The going rate, I've found, tends to be more than double what it was in NY when I left. (Still cheaper than what we charge for an hour of English lessons, though, and rarely do I sweat or have to touch sweaty people while I'm teaching English. Hm.)

Anyway, I joined this 21-day yoga-writing challenge because those are two things I've been trying to do more of anyway, and you're supposed to put a badge on your blog and write about how it's going. I'm not so big on huge group participation - and this has become a huge group. But I'm trying to play along nicely.
If you think it's something you might like to try, too, check out Bindu Wiles' site for details (How great a name is that?). Unless something wacky happens, you probably won't hear too much more about it from me here, though hopefully the writing portion of it will result in a little more other blog writing. I'll probably talk about it a bit on Twitter. (Did I mention I like Twitter? Can I tell you some more about Twitter?)
So, anyway, namaste and all that.

Don't forget your umbrella... at home?

 

I saw this exact thing happen right before my eyes yesterday. So maybe the sign is working. 

But I have to say, I feel like the message here is getting a little bit convoluted. The headline urges you to be vigilant and thoughtful in interacting with fellow passengers: spot, tap, return. The tagline asks that you be careful about your own property. Taken together, it all adds up to a less umbrella-littered commute for everyone, but, separately, the two parts of the sign are addressing different people and different behaviors. The message is not consistent.

Even just saying that, I realize it's crazy. Of course the cartoon can be about both looking out for the other guy and looking out for yourself at the same time. This is clearly the technical editor in me who's protesting. (She's not really a good time.) Being professionally hypervigilant about grammatical problems is a particularly painful occupational hazard around here. (I imagine it would be pretty rough in the US, too, actually.)

So. Even though this campaign is ringing a little funny for me, I still like it and am grateful to it for making me realize that I may be losing my English marbles.

 

PS Saying that one is "professionally hypervigilant about grammatical problems" all but guarantees a few typos. Wacky KitKat (or York Peppermint Patty, for fellow Japanlanders) to the first person who finds mine in this post.

Latte foam art face transplant

Last weekend, we met up with my old friend James (he has a radio show, Folkwaves, that you should check out). A drizzly day, perfect for a cozy lunch at Better Days. We enjoyed tasty sandwiches, Japan rarities like Ruebens and fresh mozzarella and sun-dried tomatoes.
I met James on the JET orientation in Tokyo in 1997. We bonded making fun of how shallow other people were. Which, of course, is quite shallow.*   But we're still friends 13 years later so maybe there's some kind of lesson there.

We all ordered lattes. They were all delicious, but only mine had art. James and Jim just got leaves.

A bit unfair, right?

My inner Robin Hood – not to mention my inner mad scientist – went to work and decided to take the face...off.

Relax. I can assure you I am a fully licensed face transplantologist.

*He sent me a postcard from Hiroshima to Miyazaki with a satellite image of Japan on it that I then used in my middle school classes. It was roughly to scale with a US map that I'd stick to the blackboard at the beginning of my first lesson to each new class to show the relative sizes of Japan and America. I would make the kids guess how much bigger the US is than Japan. After they guessed, I'd say, "Nope! Fifty-two times!" and then tap the postcard of Japan against the map of the US and start counting, "One, two, three.... fifty-one, fifty-two!" Exciting, eh?

Do you know what Japan is doing on the Twitter?

Well, I hope not. Because if you already do, then I've wasted a heck of a lot of time writing this new story for Pulse. Twitter really is kind of exploding in Japan right now, stats-wise and buzz-wise. Every time I meet a new group of Japanese people and ask them what trend I should write about, they say, Tsubuyaki? Which is Japanese for Twitter. (Though the more direct Japanese is tsu-itt-a.)
Companies are starting to realize the potential and are putting together big, interactive, strange, fun campaigns.

Please check it out, maybe leave a comment over there? About something related to Twitter, preferably. But we'll take what we can get.

New Twitter marketing in Japan, on Pulse. (Yes, again. But newer, better, with extra wow.)