Tokyo Blond Is Not Porn

Tokyo Blond is not a porn blog, about hair or even, as one pithy friend remarked, a micro beer or late 1980s glam metal band ("Dude, I just saw Skid Row and Tokyo Blond opened and played a killer set").


The purpose of this blog is to chronicle my experiences in Tokyo - poignantly, visually, irreverently - for fun.


Anybody can tag along...that is if I like you. This blog will endeavor to be entertaining and honest and frequent enough to keep those following interested including me.


Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Dog Days

The biggest challenge we've had since living in Tokyo has not been the language, or getting around or  even ordering dinner.  It's been finding a kennel for Ranger the Wonder Dog.  Part of the allure of living here was the idea of traveling around Asia.  But unfortunately they don't let you do that with your dog.  

There are kennels here but most of them cater to purse dogs.  They have more room for the dog's accessories than for the dogs themselves.  By Tokyo standards Ranger is huge.  He weighs 65 pounds or about 30 kilograms.   He doesn't fit into any purse and he doesn't have sweaters or t-shirts.  He's different.  He's probably the only Australian Cattledog in Japan.  Plus he has an attitude.  He doesn't really like people or dogs or things that make loud noises.  He pretty much just likes me and Russell and treats.  Or is it treats, then me, then Russell?

Back in L.A. Ranger has some pals at his day care place.  Yes, doggie day care.  They love him.  He's been going there since he was 10 months old, pretty much since puberty.  That's when we first noticed his adversity to, well, every thing.  He has some fear aggression issues.  We've spent thousands of dollars trying to get him to overcome his fear.  Now he's the best trained dog ever, sit/stay/come/heal.  But he still acts aggressively towards any one, or thing he doesn't know, which unfortunately is most everyone.

It has been a royal quest to find a place that can accommodate him.  I went on-line to find kennels.  They call them "pet hotels" here.  But the sites are all in Japanese so there's that.  The few I did find in English only cater to small,  portable dogs.  Most keep the dog in a crate, or several dogs together in one small dog run.  That definitely would not fly with Ranger Danger.

We actually found a kennel in walking distance from our house.  For a minute I was very excited.  The owner breeds golden and flat coat retrievers.  They are the most gorgeous retrievers I have ever seen.  They are snow white and heavenly.  We've gone there four times to inquire about their services.  Most of the time the retrievers greet us but the attendants just ignore us because we don't speak Japanese.   I can't tell you how awkward it is standing there for several minutes while they pretend they don't see you even though all the dogs have come over for the once over sniff test.  The one time they finally did acknowledge us we asked for a tour and they declined.  They keep telling us to come back when the owner's working but he never seems to be working.  From what we witnessed, however, it looks like they keep the dogs in crates and make them relieve themselves on puppy pads.  That would not work for Ranger.  Good luck getting him into the crate.

On my daily dog walk I started asking anyone in the park with a dog larger than a Prada handbag if they could recommend a kennel.  Most of them just looked at me like I was odd while I tried to keep Ranger from snacking on them.  Walking your dog is like being in a special club.  The only dues required are you have to own a dog and a leash.  You end up getting to know all the dogs and their owners when you see them on your daily route.  I'm hoping Ranger will eventually start looking forward to seeing a few of his Asian neighbors.  Currently he's either indifferent (generally towards dogs smaller and less significant than himself) or openly hostile.  For some reason he hates white fluffy dogs. Don't ask me why.

It used to be he only disliked small white fluffy dogs.  But there's a giant white Pyrenees here.  Whenever he sees this guy he goes ballistic - full fur bristle, bayonet tail action and of course, the ominous growl.  He's all talk though.  The minute I let go of the leash he'd fold like a cheap deck of cards I know.  But I'm not going to take the chance.

The dog Ranger doesn't like.
He looks nice enough to me.
Maybe he smells funny.
His owner is wearing a mask.

I'm thinking about writing a children's book based on Ranger's experiences.  Each dog will be a different character.  So far my favorite is the giant boxer dog whose tongue is always lolling out of his mouth to one side.  There's a story there.

Finally a British guy, who was walking two large Springer Spaniels, told me about this place called "Tom Sawyer."  I went online to try to find it to no avail.  After much consternation I persuaded Russell to ask his Japanese assistant to look it up in the phone book.  Turns out it's not "Tom Sawyer" like the Mark Twain fictional character but "Tom Soya" like the Japanese guy who breeds Great Danes but doesn't speak any English.  No wonder I couldn't find it.

This was our excursion last weekend.  It took all day. Turns out Tom Soya is a twenty minute cab ride from Narita airport.  But it took 90 minutes to get to the airport using local trains.  Usually when we go to the airport we take the Narita Express train which takes 30 minutes.  But it would have cost us $135 for the train and taxi ride, just to see a kennel.  I'd rather spend the money on sake.  As it was it still cost us $90 to check it out.   But we're glad we did.

We discovered the kennel is located in the countryside a short distance from the airport.  Before they built the airport here, Narita was an agricultural area.  In fact the farmers protested the construction for years.  The kennel owner actually drove out to meet the cab driver at a crossroad so he could lead the way back to his place.  The kennel is nestled between a bamboo forest and rice paddy fields.  It's quite picturesque.

It was surreal.  In the cab on the way there, as we passed the verdant landscape dancing with dragonflies, I realized this is the first time since moving to Tokyo I have ever not been in the city surrounded by towering grey buildings and concrete sidewalks.  Just for a few moments I felt - wildly free.

We were greeted by a cacophony of Great Danes.  There must have been twenty-five of them each in their own dog run situated around two large yards.  Mr. Soya apologized for not speaking very good English as he showed us around the property.  He took us to the less occupied area where a gigantic Great Dane kept jumping up to maul me, um I mean, "welcome me".   He was taller than I am.  In spite of his enthusiasm I don't think he was all that friendly.   The dog; not Mr. Soya; he was very nice.

Mr. Soya showed us the indoor/outdoor run Ranger would stay in.  It was located between the lascivious Great Dane and a panicked Cockapoo.  The Cockapoo was the only other type of dog in the entire establishment.  I think he was the only paying guest.  The poor thing was yelping.  He must have been lamenting, "I'm surrounded by slobbering giants; get me out of here!"

Each of the runs opens up into a large play area where the dogs are released twice a day to play. I can just imagine Ranger being released to "play" with the Danes.  "Who let the dogs out!"  Oh would that be a sight.  He could surprise me and actually like it.  It could happen.  His first buddy at the day care was a gigantic mass of fur called Chubaka.  Aptly named he looked exactly like the Star Wars character and had the same churlish personality.  But Ranger loved him.

As we were being escorted out I couldn't help but inquire Mr. Soya whether or not he had any puppies.  He is a breeder after all.  He didn't understand very much English but everyone understands the universal word "puppies."  He proudly showed us to the far side of the kennel where he uttered an encouraging word and out tumbled six Great Dane puppies.  They were three months old and almost as big as Ranger. Their paws were huge! They were adorable, even more so because their ears had just been snipped and were all bandaged up.  Clumsy and still doltish they lumbered over to the fence to administer sloppy kisses.  It was the highlight of the day.

Russell said, you just HAD to ask about puppies.  No duh!

That sealed the deal.  Large kennels, play area AND puppies.  If this guy, who is shorter than me, can handle Great Danes, who are as big as Russell, he can handle Ranger.  We gotta come here!  At least any time we're flying out of Narita.   Course we would need a car cause I'm not paying the ridiculous pick up fee.  For 35,000 yen (each way) they'll pick up or drop off your pet.   Translated to American dollars that's approximately $840 USD roundtrip, not including the nightly kennel fee.  Geez! For that price I could fly him to L.A., put him up at his usual kennel, and still save money.  The nightly fee is $85, more than three times as much as his usual $26/night stay at Crossroads Pet Resort.  Yikes!

Later at home we investigated car rentals.  Interestingly they actually rent cars by the hour here.  It makes sense.  You don't really need a car in Tokyo except for the occasional trip to Costco or Ikea, or weekend getaway.  It's ridiculously expensive to own one.  They won't even sell you a car at a dealership until you can prove you have a parking spot.  Parking spots go for $500+ a month.  A month!  Which is probably why you see such high end cars here like Ferrari's, Porsches, Maserati's, and my personal favorite, Aston Martins.  Ridiculously rich people are the only ones who can afford one.   But for the equivalent of $63 USD we could rent a car for six hours and take ourselves to the airport and Ranger to the kennel.  That sure beats the $250 (one way) taxi ride or the $420 (one way) kennel delivery fee.

Now we just gotta get drivers licenses.  The adventure continues....



Entrance to the kennel.  Those are rice paddies in 
the background flanked by bamboo trees.

Entrance to one of the kennel areas.

Welcome party.
Yes you can see into his stomach 
just past the bone crushing fangs.

OMG!  Adorable!!!
Can we take one home?
I'm sure Ranger would LOVE him.

Mug shot.  Both sides.


"Hey, come here.  I got something to show ya"

Station domination advertising.
They do this in America a lot.

Advertising! It's everywhere.

Odd.  Danish windmill in the Japanese country side.
Not odd - overcast - again.

Who needs a menu when everything is displayed.
Japanese coffee shop in the airport where 
we had lunch.  Just look at the selection!

After a long day on the train you gotta have
a Suntory and soda.

Served on electronic coasters that change colors
and illuminate your glass!
They should play disco too!


I had grilled eel on rice with cold soba noodles with sauce.

Russell had tempura, sashimi, rice, custard, fried tofu and miso soup.
AKA Japanese happy meal.


Monday, June 27, 2011

It's Official - I Really Do Live Here

For the past year I've been pretending at living here.  Actually for the first six months I was just going back and forth between L.A. and Tokyo, racking up the frequent flyer miles while stewarding Ranger the Wonder Dog, aka Menace to Society, through quarantine.  Then when quarantine was up, and we finally came over for real, the earthquake hit and sent me back to square one.  It's like Monopoly - only I do not pass GO and don't get to collect $200. Damn.

But this weekend it became official.  I actually live here.  Why you ask?  Sure I've been doing laundry, cleaning the house and going grocery shopping - all habitation activities.  But this weekend I hosted my first dinner party in Tokyo.  In L.A. I hosted dinner parties all the time.  It's what I do.   I've always wanted to be described as an "exulted hostess" or a "celebrated beauty" the same way they describe the heroines in romantic novels.  I know, I'm weird.

Russell wanted to invite his entire team over to show his appreciation for all the hard work they've been doing.  Originally we were going to have sixteen people.  His employees, their significant other, friend or spouse (they had to choose one of the three) and us.   Russell wanted to have an "Americana" meal.  I refused to make hamburgers and hot dogs, plus it's still the rainy season, so we could not assume it would be grilling weather.   I decided to make Jack Daniel ribs. Nothing says American like giant slabs of meat and JD.  We'd serve salad accompanied by a baked potato bar with all the usual suspects (bacon bits, chives, sour cream and butter).  And for dessert there would be my special brownies (not that kind of special) with ice cream.  But first I had to figure out if I could get all the ingredients.

Thank goodness for Costco or as they say in Japan: Cost-ti-co! They had the ribs and the potatoes and the most important ingredient - the Jack Daniel's. "A little for me, a little for the recipe".  Why do you think I chose this?  I had to go to two other grocery stores for the rest of the ingredients.

In L.A. I have sets of dishes and serving trays.  I can serve up to twenty people.   But in Tokyo I have service for six and that's it!  I didn't think I'd ever be hosting more than can sit at our dinette table (6).  I wasn't going to go out and buy ten new plates so we settled on paper plates.  I'm not really a paper plate kind of girl but it seemed the only way.  Sigh.

Admittedly I have a tendency to go over the top when it comes to parties.  But I just want it to be, well, perfect.  I like to create themes and build my parties around them.  It's my creative outlet.  I want people to have a sublime experience when they come over - beginning with the decorations, to the food and wine, and especially to the fact they're not allowed to help.  This is probably because that's what I want when I go over someone else's house.  To be a guest.  To be charmed.  Sure I always offer to help when I do go to a party.  But I don't want my guests helping, unless the theme is a cooking party.  I just want my guests to enjoy.

Since allegedly it's Summer here (even though it's either raining or overcast everyday), I chose a garden theme.   We found these lime colored flower buckets at Ikea which gave me the idea.

Honestly I was a little intimidated about having everyone over.  I was afraid I was going to offend someone inadvertently because I'm not aware of Japanese party customs. Like perhaps it's a no no to serve pork on the last Saturday of the month, or eating off paper plates is a sign of disrespect or worse.  I know they like to drink a lot. At least that's what I'd heard from several, non-Japanese sources.

Russell thought I was being silly.  Even so, I made a point to ask one of my Japanese/American neighbors a few questions just to be sure.  She looked at me like I had two heads when I posed the question. "Are there any Japanese customs I should be aware of, so as not to offend my guests?  I'd read once you're not supposed to give gifts in sets of six because it's bad luck."    She politely explained pork is fine and there's really nothing for me to worry about.   I got the distinct impression she thought it was dubious the spouses would come.  She said if they did I should recognize what a big deal it is for them.  "It's one thing to go over a peer or subordinate's house, it's quite another to go to your boss's house."  When I commented that it's a big deal in America too; she just gave me a look that said I don't get it.  Ah ignorance is bliss.

But she was right.  From the time Russell invited them (three weeks in advance) to three days prior to show time, the number dwindled from 16 to 3.  Three!!!!!    A lot of them had bonafide reasons but still.  Thank God I waited until a week prior to buy the food.  I'd be eating pork for months!  As it is I'll be eating pork for a week.  But the good news is - we could all eat at the table and no paper plates!






The party was intimate but lively.  The guests were all women.  No boyfriends or husbands.  So it was four women and Russell.  He's used to it.  He's always surrounded by women.  It's a gift.   He was great.  He served while the women chatted.  Now there's a change.  They probably don't see that in Japanese homes.   

Two of the women had gone to school in the U.S. so they had interesting perspective.  The discussion was intriguing.  They asked me questions about my experiences since living here.  I shared my impressions of and assumptions about Japanese culture.  They shared their point of view on the like.  It was great.  We had a lot of fun.  I hope they did.  And I didn't even have a hangover in the morning.

I'm ready to host another.  God knows I have enough leftovers!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Weak Ass Meet Unhappy Pelvis

So the other night I'm walking from the metro to the Imperial Hotel to meet Russell and a friend for dinner.   Suddenly I notice this Japanese man's fly is unzipped.  It's alarmingly obvious and he's walking right towards me.  I wonder if there is a polite way of letting him know his fly is down.  Is there a universal sign that means, "hey dude, check your fly".  Suddenly it occurs to me I don't remember zipping my own pants up before I left the apartment.  Sure enough I reach down as discreetly as possible for a "front check" and wouldn't you know it - my fly is unzipped too!  No wonder he had such a big smile on his face.  Nice.  I'm so blond.  


Speaking of blond, I've been humbled recently. You see I injured my Piriformis muscle running.  This is just a fancy way of saying I busted my ass...literally. The Piriformis muscle is located deep in the gluteal region (aka butt) and helps rotate the leg outward. Even though I had been running regularly in California, the transition to my Tokyo route apparently did me in.  My Tokyo route has something my California route does not...stairs.  In Tokyo they have these structures that bridge intersections.  It's great.  Instead of waiting at the light you can just run up the stairs and over the street to the other side. My Tokyo running route has two sets of these and two large hills.  I was taking the steps two at a time.  After about two weeks of this, (running every other day), my hip started to ache.  So I did what I usually do when I feel pain.  I ignore it. I kept running.  After two weeks of this ill fated plan it hurt so bad I couldn't even sleep on my right side.   Pain killers had to get involved and that's never good.


I decided not to run for a couple of weeks, which for me is really hard because running is the only thing that keeps me sane.  Well that and alcohol.  When that didn't help, I mean not running, of course I kept drinking.  I decided to seek professional help.  My neighbor recommended a physical therapy clinic called Tokyo Physio, which apparently has a great reputation, and even more appealing, is in walking distance from my apartment.  


I expected a large, state of the art office, with a general waiting area, reception desk, and several examination rooms.  You know the kind, white and sterile with glossy floors and glossy pictures of professional athletes on the wall.  But the reality was, the office was tiny, tiny, tiny with Japanese sliding rice panel doors to separate the two "examination rooms" from the front desk. The "waiting room" turned out to be the kitchenette with a small bench nestled between the fridge and the bathroom door. The reception area was congested with exercise equipment: a folding stationary bike, a mini-trampoline hanging on the wall, jump ropes and a few of those giant exercise balls. It kind of felt like an exercise junk yard or "romper room".


After a few minutes waiting in the kitchen, I mean waiting room, reading the top twenty "aussie" slang expressions, (did you know a "tinny" is a can of beer or a small aluminum boat?), my physical therapist came in and asked me to accompany him to to the examination room.  I looked him over.  He was young, muscular and hot.  Oh, I'll accompany you...  


After he asked me what the problem was and evaluated the soles of my running shoes for any pronation issues, (which means do I wear my shoes unevenly and therefore need orthopedics - I don't) he asked me to change into something more comfortable.  Ok, well maybe he didn't say that exactly.  I was already wearing running clothes. But I guess what he really meant was something looser so he could see my muscles operate.  Scary.  He provided me with some baggy, elastic waisted shorts.  Even scarier.  Then he asked me to do some exercises, specifically squats, first with two legs.  Fine.  Then with only one leg.  Not fine.  


I felt like an idiot.  An old idiot.  I kept losing my balance and tottering to one side or the other and I hadn't event been drinking.  He had me lay down on the table and felt my glut muscles. Ouch.  Then he pressed his fingers against several points of my lower back.  That seemed odd to me so I asked him why he was doing that.  He said, to determine my pelvis flexibility.  Apparently I have a very unhappy pelvis.  Who knew?! When I asked him how he could tell he said, years of experience.  So I was waiting for the worst.  He was going to tell me I'm old and the hip has decided to retire.  Soon I'll be buying a lazy boy and watching soap operas all day.


Instead he told me I have a weak ass.  Ok, well maybe he didn't say that exactly, but that's what he meant.  The good news was, the injury is muscular, not the bone - so I got that going for me.  In my nervousness I started to blurt, "Oh good, now I don't have to go to a REAL doctor."  Even though I didn't finish my thought he could tell what I was about to say.  I may not be able to run up stairs but I can clearly stick my foot in my mouth. He also said I have tightness in my pelvis. I don't really know what that means.  Treatment consisted of 15 minutes of heat applied to the affected area - the affected area being my right butt cheek, followed by deep tissue massage - ouch. 


Then he showed me some exercises I would need to do daily between PT sessions.  When we were finished, he told me I could get dressed and after a suspiciously pregnant pause he suggested I take a look in the mirror before leaving.  Look in the mirror?   Uh yeah - apparently my make-up was so embarrassed for me it had run away - all over my face.  Great, not only do I have a weak ass and an unhappy pelvis but I looked like Tammy Faye Baker after an especially passionate plea for donations.  I muttered, "pretty" to which both the receptionist and therapist laughed sympathetically.  Oh the humanity!


I wiped my face off and gathered the remnants of my pride from the floor, paid and took my weak ass out the door with an appointment for more humiliation next week.  But at least he didn't tell me I was old.




Friday, June 10, 2011

But I Don't Want to Go to the Zoo

Every week I plan an excursion for Russell and I in Tokyo.  Last weekend it was Ueno park, one of the largest parks in Tokyo.  The plan was to take the train to the park, walk around the expansive pond, check out a couple of shrines, have lunch and finally, see the granddaddy of them all, the Tokyo National Museum.  So then how did we end up at the zoo?

I don't really like zoos.  They depress me.  Oh, I get it.  Bring a bunch of rare and exotic animals to one place under the guise of "conservation" so that people who never travel can see animals from different continents.  Uh huh.  Yeah it's neat.  But it still makes me sad.  Somehow however, in our twenty odd years of knowing each other,  Russell didn't know this.  It's nice to know he's still discovering me.

It only took us one train to get to Ueno park.  The park was big and green and filled with people and street vendors selling meat on a stick, rice balls, and that oh so Japanese favorite....chocolate covered bananas.  What?  

We were immediately taken by the gigantic pond blanketed in lily pads. It must be spectacular when the lilies are in bloom.  The pond was so congested with the pads you could barely see the water.  While were were admiring the foliage an old Japanese man pulled up next to us on his bicycle and asked us if were were tourists.  I thought, is this a trick question?  Russell wondered what he was selling.  He wasn't selling anything.  He said he was amazed to see us.  Ever since the earthquake he hadn't seen any American tourists.  We explained we lived in Tokyo and had been here during the earthquake.  He was even more surprised by that.  He said so and ambled off into the throng with a grin, a cigarette, and story to tell his sake buddies.


Can you imagine how this place sounds at night? ribbit x 1000

There was a little farmers market going on so we meandered through that.  Besides perfect fruit and vegetables, they were also promoting the opening of the new Tokyo tower, aka, Tokyo Sky Tree, the tallest artificial structure in Japan. Apparently this is a big deal and they have mascots to prove it.  There were several of them walking around the park drawing a crowd.  They looked like gigantic versions of the phone charms all the Japanese have dangling from their G4s.

Look, Russell made a new friend.
No...we cannot take it home.

Perfect asparagus and look, 
it comes in purple and green.



We stopped to check out the statue of Takamori Saigo, a disenchanted samurai from the 1800s, dubbed the last true samurai, who led a revolt against the Meiji regime.   His story is the basis for the American movie, "the Last Samurai."  Funny, he doesn't look like Ken Watanabe.  Course it doesn't say that, or anything about his dog on those plaques.  I had to look all this up on wikipedia.  Wikipedia doesn't say anything about his dog either.  Geez.   Believe it or not he's wearing hunting attire, so maybe that's his hunting dog.  More recently he's known for defeating Gen. Douglas McArthur who thought the statue should be torn down due to its ties to nationalism.  But the Japanese relented so Takamori and his little dog stayed.


This is Kiyomizu-do Kannon Temple, a temple where women who want to get pregnant go to pray for fertility.  From the looks of the pregnant woman at the top of the stairs, it works.  Let's just say we didn't linger here.  

Look there's a band.  
And they were good too.

They had a croquet lawn in the park with a bunch of seniors wearing numbers and wielding mallets ferociously.  The women were just as competitive.

It was already 12:30 by the time we got to the park, so after we toured the shrines we decided to head off to a restaurant recommended to us that specializes in grilled eel and has been around for 260 years.  260 years!! That's as old as America!!!!   The name of the restaurant is Izu'ei and it's located next to the KFC (go figure) right across the street from the park.  There was a line so it must be good.  It was one of those Japanese restaurants where you have to take your shoes off.  I always feel better when we're the only gaijin.  It makes us feel like locals.  The eels were great!  Apparently it's the charcoal that makes the difference.  We're not talking Kingsford here.  The Japanese take their charcoal very seriously.  Izu'ei's charcoal is made in the mountains where, according to legend, the best charcoal comes from.  I bought it.


My view of the restaurant from sunken seats.

The restaurant placemat had this little picture on it.
Why isn't that guy wearing pants?

After lunch we walked back through the park on our way to the museum.  Somehow we ended up on the wrong side of the park from the museum, which was the whole point of our trip.  Russell thought we'd be able to cut through the zoo.  One doesn't "cut through" a zoo.  Once you're in you have to look even if you don't like zoos, like I don't.   I mean they have Giant Pandas for Gods sakes!  I mumbled a little at first. Ok, maybe I complained for a little while.   But then there were monkeys, even baby monkeys, and well, after that how can you be grumpy.  It's impossible.   The zoo took up the rest of our time.  We never made it to the museum.

Now, where did I put that nipple?

Rhino's conspiring.
"Ok, you take the one on the left; I'll take the one on the right.

Giraffe, "Hey, you're not from around here"
Me, "Neither are you"

Russell's favorite.  I think it's because they wear tuxedos - 
Russell's favorite attire.

Make sure you get my good side.

Baby hippo doing laps.

We waited in line for half an hour just to see the giant pandas.   Interestingly, they had two lines for the panda exhibit, ours and the short line.  Apparently if you have children you get to go through the short line.   The Japanese are smart.  They recognize children have no patience for lines and neither do their parents.   Russell and I looked around - maybe we could rent a kid.  No such luck.  The kid line went through in five minutes.  Three Indian teenagers got into the kid line.  We all looked on menacingly.  Finally a line attendant, yes a line attendant, seized them and escorted them to the back of the "adult" line.  Ha!   Justice is served.

The victory sustained us until we finally made into the panda exhibit.  There were two and they were giant just like the sign said.  One was napping and the other just woke up.  There were more line attendants making sure the crowd kept moving and didn't linger too long.  They were so cuddly, the bears not the attendants, you just wanted to give them a great big hug.  But since we couldn't, Russell bought me a stuffed one instead.  The stuffed animal cost more than the zoo entry fee and lunch combined!  But he's worth it.  As Russell handed me the bear he said, "this is for you; not Ranger".  I said, "You get to be the one to tell him."

Believe it or not this guy is napping.

This guy is pacing.

Then we went to see the lions and bears and otters.  Yes, otters.  The otters were "in love" and showed it often.  I don't know what was more entertaining, watching the otters cavort in the water for a few minutes and then jump out and fornicate wildly, or watching visitors' faces once they realized what the otters were up to.  Russell wouldn't let me take a picture of them.  The Summer bears were a highlight as well.  About half the size of the big brown bear from Hokkaido but ten times the fun.  This couple was playing mercilessly.  They kept rolling around and around and jumping on each other in mock battles.  They were hilarious!  Our faces hurt from smiling so much.

Two points for this take down.  Say uncle!

The zoo is a great equalizer.  At the zoo there is no American, Japanese, European.  It's just humans and animals and animals make humans smile.  Which is nice.

Huge bored Hokkaido bear.  
That rock does not look comfortable.

Here tourist, tourist!

The boat Russell wanted to go for a ride in.
What is he ten?

When the zoo closed, music was played throughout the park heralding it's closure so we walked to another shrine.


Toshogu Shrine erected in 1651 and dedicated to the man who made Edo, currently known as Tokyo, the capital of Japan.  The pathway to the shine is lined with massive stone lanterns, as well as, 50 copper lanterns which were gifts from feudal lords.  It was closed when we got there but you could still walk through the gate and up the pathway.

Stone lanterns.

Wishes.

Imagine what this place looks like when all these lanterns are lit.
I'm feeling kind of like Alice In Wonderland right now.


This is one of the two spots in Japan where they maintain an eternal flame from the blast in Hiroshima.  This flame was taken from the burning embers of house in Hiroshima and has been kept "alive" ever since.  The monument stands as a reminder of the destruction and an appeal for world peace.
The colorful hangings on the wall are thousands of origami cranes.  According to legend, any person who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish - clearly these cranes are for world peace.
Let's all keep folding.


And finally who can resist baby ducklings.



Sunday, June 5, 2011

Fun Raiser and Sexuality Make a Nice Pair

The second umbrella decided to give up last night.  It had been threatening to for a while.  So we had to make do with the only one we have left.  And as I mentioned in a previous post, (Chinatown aka Chowtown) Russell and I are not umbrella compatible.  Thankfully I wore a hat - so that helped.  I was only misted.

Russell has this theory.  He thinks Japanese umbrellas are huge.  I think they're the same size as U.S. umbrellas but the people are just smaller.  He disagrees.  The debate continued all the way until we got to the bar where the aid Japan fundraiser was taking place.  A place called 57/57.   I wonder why not 50/50?

Ironically it was about 50% Japanese and 50% Ex-pats.  And all the same people.   The same people we saw at the FCC dinner and the Asian Tiger cocktail party, with all the same vendors too - real estate agents, brokers, etc, etc.  It reminded me of the little fishes that follow sharks around hoping for the scraps.  Does that mean I'm a shark?  The pungent photographer was there too.   I see that guy everywhere!!!!  I'd say he's stalking me, but he never acknowledges me.

The space was hip.  Crystal curtains and red velvet.  Mod lighting.  Good music - 100% good old American funk.  Nice.  Our 3,000 yen donation, (about $36.00) came with a drink ticket.  We ordered whiskey and sodas, since the wine choices were "red" or "white",  but the drinks were more like sodas with a whiskey IOU.  It still went straight to my head.  The second one, paid for with cash, was a lot stronger.  By the third, I told Russell he'd better feed me soon or he'd be carrying more than the umbrella.

The organizer got up to thank the crowd and remind us why we were drinking there.  He was an energetic caucasian guy who wore a hat like the one I was wearing (a fedora; although mine had sparkles in it - of course) and spoke very fast English and perfect Japanese.  It was amazing how effortlessly he transitioned from one language to the next, even his cadence and articulation changed.   A few of Russell's Japanese co-workers were there.  They said the guy spoke better Japanese than they did.  Impressive.  Unfortunately, he impressed a litttttttle bit too long.  We already made our donations, no need to promulgate on and on. The crowd was growing restless and dry.  I for one needed another.

We met a couple other ex-pats, chatted with our friend Rich, who had invited us, and a few other of Russell's co-workers.  By then my head was light and bobbing.  Feed me.  Russell met the owner and secured us a table at the restaurant on the other side of the crystal curtain just as the entertainment was starting.  The entertainment was a woman wearing plastic sunflowers in her hair performing some kind of erotic trapeze act on a giant hulu hoop swinging from the ceiling.  The restaurant looked like the bar.  None of the waitstaff was Japanese.  Odd.  That might explain why the food was just OK.  

Halfway into our salad two of our friends from the party joined us and the real intrigue began.

Some how we got into a conversation about the Japanese and sex.  I think it began while discussing the Japanese's cultural affinity to taking a mistress.  Much like the French, Japanese men take mistresses.  They call them "girlfriends" and it's a sign of virility and wealth.  The more "girlfriends" you have, the more impressive you are.  I wonder if this applies to "boyfriends".   Hmmmm.  Or maybe it started when we were discussing advertising in Playboy.  It's a great magazine.  I read it for the interviews and I don't mean bunny interviews.  They have good jokes too.  In my opinion joke telling has become a lost art but that's another subject.  In any case I do recall saying I had heard the Japanese were very open about sex.  This statement was met by guffaws of disbelief.  Apparently I had heard wrong.  I explained how one of my friends who had lived in and worked in Tokyo told me she was hit on frequently leading her to believe that Japanese men are very direct and open about sex.  "Was she American, white?" they asked.  I said, "yes".  They said, "well yeah, they'll hit on anyone whose American but that doesn't mean they're open about sex."  I got the impression this is because Japanese men think American girls are easy.

Our friend explained.

According to him, the Japanese are extremely sexually repressed, even their porn magazines only show girls in bathing suits.  But what about anime; aren't they nude?  Both guys rebuked in unison - that's a cartoon.  Oh.  The Japanese sexual psyche is all about fantasy and roll playing.  That must be why all the sexual images here seem to be of girls in Catholic school uniforms.  Yes.  And that's why there are so many theme bars in Tokyo.  Theme bars?  Go on.....  Yes, theme bars.  He gave an example.
They have these bars where the girls wear no underwear.  I'm sorry, what?  Is that a big turn on?  All three men at the table looked at each other but didn't say anything.  They didn't have too.  You know, kind of like that restaurant in Vegas with the wine angels.  You mean, Aureole?  Yes, that's the one.  Except in this version the "angels" don't wear underwear.  As you can imagine the higher they go to retrieve the wine the more "expensive and expansive" the vintage.  Illuminating.  In fact, there's a bar here in Roppongi where the girls don't wear underwear.  I can show you.  No thank you.

There's also S&M and "Issue" bars.  Issue bars? Yes, bars where the women tell you about their issues. Why anybody would want to pay to hear somebody else's issues as a turn on, is beyond me.  I went there.  What were the issues?  She said she was being beaten by her boyfriend and showed me some bruises.  I wondered what kind of make-up she used.  I laughed nervously.  I know some people with issues who could make a lot of money working there.

Tell me more about the S&M bar.  Did you have to dress up to get in? No, but it was intense.  Girls would come up to you and introduce themselves as "S" or "M".  You mean "single" or "married".   Um, no.  They had different rooms where people were having S&M sex.  No way!  Yep.  And in the main bar a girl was chained up and being whipped.  OK.  I can take you; it's right above the Subway.  How nice - have a whip and a foot long.  I have a coupon.

In Kabukicho you can buy a girl from a guy on the street.  He'll even hand you a menu with pictures.  Or you can go to bars where there's a glass wall and behind the glass wall are girls with numbers on them.  You tell your waiter what number you're interested in and he'll make the call and she'll come to your table.  Yes, I'll have the number seven please and a diet coke.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Benihana Who?


When you're American, as I am, and you think of Teppanyaki, as you do occasionally, you think of Benihana's.  You know, the dancing knives, the smoking onion volcano, the pocket jumping shrimp.  Until now.  Now my eyes have been open with a steel spatula and a polished copper pot.  Now I realize Benihana is just a cheesy side show.

Yes, they had the steel cook top. Yes, they had the chefs with the big hats and the sharp knives.  But the similarities stop there.   There were no parlor game tricks, no spinning rice bowls, just amazing chefs cooking exquisite dishes right in front of you in an elegant setting.  The service was impeccable and the wine list inspiring.  It was also expensive.  But what isn't in Tokyo?

And it's name is Ukai-tei Ginza.  

We started with champagne.  It seemed only right.  We couldn't decide on any one bottle so we just ordered a different glass of wine with each course.  I chose the Chef's menu and Russell chose the Early Summer menu.  This way we could sample each other's dishes.  Both our meals included the house specialty: abalone.  It's a good thing too because I don't think I would have shared that dish it was so amazing.

Our chef, call me "Kazu", was great.  An older gentleman with an infectious smile.  He patiently and indulgently explained each ingredient to us as he prepared our dishes.  He was teased by another, younger, English speaking chef named Sung Lee who had worked in San Francisco for a while.  Sung informed us that our chef Kazuhiro's specialty is the abalone.  From the taste of it I would agree with him.

The first sommelier who helped us was a bit stiff.  While exceedingly efficient; he exuded no warmth.  But the second sommelier (we seemed to have a team of wait staff) was quite charming and witty.  A nice surprise.  I'm always refreshed to find humor in the Japanese.  Not that I don't think they're funny I just don't think they tend to share it with foreigners.  His name was "Kazu" as well.  I wonder if that means "Bob" or "Steve" in Japanese.  It seems a popular name.

Each dish was more spectacular than the last.  

I started with the marinated crab and caviar killer combination and Russell had chilled sea urchin.   Sea urchin is something we usually avoid in the States.  But in Japan the stuff is simply ambrosia.  My hunch is the difference is freshness.

Next we had soup.  Mine was chilled creamed sea urchin. Delectable!  Russell's was chilled broad bean soup.  Refreshingly simple and pure.

Then came the abalone.  Bring it!  Oh my!  That was memorable.  First he brought out two live abalones relaxing on a bed of ice.  They were still moving.  Then he put them on the grill and covered them in seaweed and salt.  While they steamed he made two sauces: one of basil and wine and the other must be a secret because he didn't share the details.  The combination was astounding.  That was the highlight of the meal.  But there was more to come.

Since I had the Chef's Menu I received the better cut of meat.  As if you could tell.  Ok maybe a little.  What I mean is, the better cut of meat in Tokyo is always way better than the best cut of meat in L.A.  And I've been to STK, BLT, Cut and Texas so I know.  Russell's meat was served with garlic chips (yummy) and fresh greens (double yummy).  My tenderloin was served with sea salt and freshly shark skinned wasabi.  Super yummy!  Instead of a grater Japanese restaurants use shark skin to triturate their wasabi.  And unlike the wasabe in the U.S. which eclipses all other flavors with its ruthless bite, this wasabe was mild but wonderfully complementary to the meat, like adding a touch of vinegar or sugar to sauces to bring out the flavors.  

This was followed by garlic fried rice, made artfully in front of us without any knife gymnastics.

For dessert Kazu the sommelier escorted us from the Teppan grill to a lounge area for dessert.  I had the chocolate parfait and Russell had this amazing sweet, cheesy, creamy almost brulee like custard with museum quality cherries on top and a blush of faintly tart syrup.  Thank you sir, may I have another!?

It's a good thing we take the subway everywhere.  Walking and climbing stairs aids digestion.  After a meal like that you need a walk in fresh air to clear your head.

Sayonara Benihana!


Red carpet entrance.  Note the fork and spoon hosts.

The Teppanaki bar we sat at.

Look it's a napkin!  You never get a napkin in Tokyo.

What I had.

Marinated crab with caviar.  I love caviar.
And it loves me.

This is what Russell had - Chilled sea urchin. 
Yes, sea urchin.  It was amazing!


Live abalone.


They steamed it in seaweed and salt.

Then served it with two different sauces.

Yes, that's meat.  It's so perfect it's almost too good to eat.
But I managed to get it down.
The big root on the right is fresh wasabe.

Those are garlic chips on the left.
They should bag them and sell them at Subway.
Russell thinks I'm on to something.

The creamy, cheesy confection from the gods.
Oh and those are perfect cheeries on top 
and they're real, not out of a jar!

My chocolate parfait.  Yummy!

An ornate Symphonium. 
It plays whimsically beautiful music.
My grandparents had one less elaborate.