Quick, cheap business cards

No extra charge for the fancy box

I've gone empty-handed to a bunch of events lately where showing up without business cards is about as smart as showing up without pants. I ran out of Moo cards a while back, and, in one of those stupid paradoxes, didn't order them right away because they said delivery would take two or three weeks. So now it's three or four weeks later, and, you know. I never did find a local place that would do them quickly and simply. One wanted me to send them my design as an Illustrator file, which I don't have, and another had a complicated ordering process that involved two somber sales people, a huge binder, and two more return trips to the shop for checking proofs. Not cheap, either. I remember seeing machines in the past that  spit out insanely cute cards while you wait, but insanely cute cards make grown-ups look, well, insane.
[Image] No extra charge for the fancy box. On my way to another meeting the other day, kicking myself for still not finding cards, I stopped into one of those digital photo printing places on a whim and asked if they made meishi. The woman said they did, but that they didn't have too many options. Fine. I didn't need too many. They produced something simple in 25 minutes with my name, number and email address on it. Granted, they, er, got the email address wrong. But she was very apologetic, and had a new stack of 50 done in less than 10 more minutes. The Rs are kind of top-heavy. Maybe someone who knows fonts knows what it is? I had to pick the font based on Japanese examples, so I had no idea how the English would come out. Oh, well. You know that expression: Cheap, fast, great - pick any two. If you've been around here a while, you know I love nice stationery. But sometimes good enough is good enough. Like when you're on your way to a networky (shudder) thing with no pants business cards.

The place I went is called 55 Station, and they're all over the place. Their main thing is printing digital photos.

Quakebook

Quakebook is coming together with unbelievable speed and grace. We hope to have it in your digital hands by the end of the weekend. Please follow the new #quakebook account on Twitter, if Twitter is something you're into. Give the Quakebook Facebook page a thumbs up, if you do that kind of thing. Please ask your friends to, too. Why? More recognition means more sales means more money to the people who need it n-o-w. 100% of everything from this book will go to Japan Red Cross. Thanks. And if you're in a position to help spread the word in any other way, please let me know in the comments, by email, on Twitter, any way you like. Or, heck, just do it. You don't need permission. Thank you.

Where I'm at

Quick catch up. Short answer: in an LA suburb at Jim's dad's house. In the past week, I've been profiled as a "level-headed source of information" amid the confusion and as a spokesperson for the reviled subgroup of non-Japanese people who left Tokyo as the Geiger counters started clicking. Since I haven't written about either here yet, I'll point you to those until I can keep my fingers on the keyboard for more than three minutes at a time. I seem to be having trouble writing about what's going on and where I'm at.
Probably because I have no idea.

I am excited to tell you that I've had the privilege of helping out with a book from which all proceeds will go to the Japan Red Cross. I've been editing essays people wrote in the aftermath of the quake from all over Japan and a few from abroad. I will post details on how to get it as soon as they're available.

Prepared

They're talking about aftershocks. Throwing around numbers that don't make any sense to me. What are you supposed to do with an x percent chance of a y magnitude quake? People love numbers, but generally have no idea what they mean. not helpful. Anyway, we'll take at face value the idea that it's not unlikely that we'll have another good rock or two in the coming days. Like David Bowie says, Let's Sway!

Kitchen cabinet taped up. Good thinking, Jim!

Water. Honestly, we could probably use a little bit more. We’ve got a few gallons spread out over a bunch of bottles. (A friend had filled every juice and wine glass in the house. Could get messy fast.) I cleaned out the bathtub and filled it with cold water. I hope we don’t have to drink it, but if the power goes off, we can use it to flush the toilet, wash or drink in a pinch.

To avoid having to wash in cold water, I’ve also laid in an extra pack or two of body wipes. Japan is rich in body wipes of all varieties. I also have some waterless shampoo that I got when I went to check out Katrina.

Safety. We’ve got first aid kits, headlamps, and a crank-powered radio. Headlamps may sound a little over-the-top, but Jim made the excellent point that if you’re in a situation where you need a flashlight, probably better to have your hands free. I took the picture frames that fell off of shelves and laid them flat. By the door, I have hiking shoes and a bag packed with mixed nuts, dried cranberries, water, a blanket, extra socks and underwear, a notebook, toiletries, my camera battery charger, and instant coffee and chocolate.

Food. Luckily, we went to Costco last week and stocked up on non-perishables. We have enough fixings for pasta and nachos for the whole neighborhood. Tuna. Olives. Brie. Peanut butter. We run a greater risk of getting fat than of being hungry.

Iodine. I have mixed feelings about this. If I think there’s enough of a chance of radiation poisoning that I’m laying in iodine, should I just leave? The fact is that I don’t think we’re going to get dosed. I guess I’m looking at it like putting on a seatbelt - I don’t expect to crash when I get in the car, but I put it on anyway. Further mixed feelings, because what I bought is not the potassium iodide that you’re supposed to take one dose of post-exposure. The pharmacist told me you can only get that from clinics here. He said a lot of people were buying the povidine iodine anway, which is basically meant for gargling. It’s the red stuff that comes in a dropper bottle. He said that if there were an announcement of contamination, the best thing to do would be to get to a hospital where KI was being distributed. The next best thing to do would be to put three drops of the povidine in water and drink it. He said he was worried that people were buying the stuff up and trying to take it in advance, which is not good for you. To be clear, there is absolutely no indication of how many people might or might not be doing this. I imagine the numbers are small.

Me. Doing some stretching, making a conscious effort to notice whether or not I’m breathing normally. I wasn’t for a while, which I didn’t even notice until I started again. Keeping myself fed. I forget to eat until I’m way too hungry in the best of times. A little added stress, and I don’t get hungry for hours and hours. Trying to read good sources of info, avoid sensationalist media, and consider carefully things that sound scary or unlikely. Learned last night that the Japanese equivalent of hearing a rumor from “a friend of a friend” is often “my friend’s father.” Interesting, because I did hear the rumor about acid rain from a friend who said it was her friend’s father who told her directly. It turned out not to be true.

First person accounts

Here's a small sample of Japan bloggers' first-hand experiences on the day of the Touhoku quake. Many of these bloggers have already written second update posts. Consider this list a bit of a time capsule of that day and a jumping off point for reading more. I'd be happy to add others you can send links to, especially from anyone who was closer to the main impact. In no particular order, using the names I could find for them online.    

James Simpson,
writing at the New Pacific Institute

Angela Salisbury, Sake Puppets

Loco of Loco in Yokohama

Our Man in Abiko

Eboni at International-E

Tim, at Life Enhasa

"Caroline" at Spooning with a Schoolboy

Vblogger RobinDave (video)

Paul, at Just Another Day in Japan

Eryk S., This Japanese Life

Kamuchan, Fearfully Made


Green-eyed Geisha

Foreign Salaryman in Japan

From Osaka, Vivian Morelli, at Lost in Translation

Quiet Kabukicho

Neon lights on, but video screen off. People are calling for companies to turn off unnecessary signage to save power.

You can only stay inside tweeting for so long, right? Eventually you have to go outside... and tweet from there. Kidding. (Kind of. Apologies to my friends who have seen way too much of me staring into my phone.) It was sunny and warm on Saturday. We headed out in the afternoon to meet our friend Miki in Shinjuku. She wanted to eat fresh vegetables and so suggested Sizzler. I had no idea we even had Sizzlers. And I have no association of it with fresh vegetables - more like vats of mashed potatoes, and croutons and Bacon-bits with French dressing. But it turned out to be a good call. Quite a nice salad bar (though no Bacon-bits), decent little steak, and something comforting about canned peaches. There were a few Japanese families with small kids there and one other non-Japanese family. It was only about a quarter full. It was painful to see that big salad bar sitting there, untouched for minutes at a time, knowing it's not that far away that people are huddled in emergency shelters with only, at best, cold rice balls.

After dinner, we had a wander through Kabukicho, Shinjuku's bar and red-light district, just to see how it was. It was quiet. Granted, it was a little early. But almost all the people in the street were touts, just standing and waiting for customers to take to their bars. Quite a few hosts, in loose clusters with their meticulous mops of cartoon hair, and a few African guys. One walked along side us for a minute - "Hey, you want to--" and then gave up. His heart wasn't in it.

We stopped for a little karaoke on the way back to our bikes. When I was trying to sing Kiss' "I was made for loving you," I realized two things: I knew none of the lyrics besides the refrain, and I hadn't taken a really deep breath since the shaking had started. We had fun. I'm not the biggest karaoke fan - my brother got all those genes. But I definitely recommend it if you're needing a break from constant vigilance. I checked Twitter later, and there had been lots of aftershock reports. We hadn't felt a thing inside. 

We couldn't believe how quiet the area right around Shinjuku station was. Aside from one semi-boisterous group of a dozen or so guys with the kind of matching shopping bags you get at weddings, there was almost nobody there, even though trains were running. Shinjuku is usually cited as the busiest train station in the world. I walked back to where I'd left my bike, near a Starbucks that had been closed in the afternoon. There was an escalator near there, rolling silently up and down. A group of cops passed me and I gestured to the escalator and said in Japanese, "Why not turn that off?" One of them said, "Hai, O.K. Down." "No," I tried again. "Nobody's using this. Wouldn't it be good to turn it off to save electricity?" 

"Ah," he said. "Yes, saving electricity. Ah." 

Oh, well. I tried. Eastern Japan is looking at rolling blackouts starting tomorrow, Monday morning, for the next week or weeks to save power. They say demand will exceed capacity by 25 or 30 percent. I'm always torn over whether or not, in these things, every little bit really helps. Does it matter if I leave my cellphone charger plugged in when all of Kabukicho is bathed in neon? Usually, I think it doesn't. Given the sudden dramatic reduction of Japan's power generating capability, for now, I'm going to try to believe it does.

Pachinko. Pachinko? Is there anything that uses more power for less good?

Earthquake

 

Aargh. Computer just crashed on my long and thoughtful background about writing about the day of the quake. Just read this for now? Bout to head into Shinjuku and see what's what.

Mt. Fuji is looking a little frizzy

Beautiful sunset yesterday. You can see the snow blowing off of Mt. Fuji, especially if you click on the picture to enlarge it a bit.

When life gives you lemon-scented toilet paper

 

The smell of lemon means one of two things: a refreshing drink or a toxic cleaning product. And there are places where neither of these things should ever go.  

It happens that I wasn't the one who bought this pack, but I've done the same thing. Recently, and in bulk. In this land where celery is sold by the individual rib and one styrofoam tray of ground beef is just about enough to make two meatballs, I managed to pick up an eight-pack of floral-soaked rolls. Toilet paper is just about the only thing that is actually sold more often in big economy packages than in scanty micropacks. I think the wrapper boasted of 360 meters of smelly paper.

I don't know why I hate scented toilet paper so much. Beyond the cloying smell and the idea of blatant chemicals where I don't want them, that is. I guess that's enough reason. But I understand some people do like it. I mean, I don't understand why they like it, but I hear that they do. So whatever your preference, let this be a warning. Take a second at the store to give a closer look to any cute little drawings of flowers or fruit on your toilet paper, and make sure it passes the sniff test.

Hey, I put some marathon music in your bananas

I was walking around Aoyama one sunny day when I stumbled on a Tokyo Marathon pop-up shop. They were selling bright lime green and pink running gear and giving a presentation on how to do your hair and make-up for long runs. (Did you know there's a "golden point" where your ponytail should be?)
The woman running the thing offered me some mineral water and a sports banana. Sports banana? Yes, they're launching a banana at the marathon that's smaller than usual and higher in citric acid (Japan loves citric acid! Why?), making it the perfect banana for sports. (Not like those other bananas, that are a real pain to carry.) Between you and me, it kind of sounds like they found a new way to sell runtier bananas for the same price as bigger ones. But still, kind of interesting from a marketing standpoint. And then she dropped that oh, by the way, they're getting the bananas ready for the marathon by blaring a Japanese pop song throughout the enormous ripening facility for a week. Check out the whole story on Japan Pulse. It's bananas!
This is the song.
It's kind of the Eye of the Tiger of Japanese pop music.