Halloween.

New England is the best place to visit, perhaps the only place to visit, at the end of October. The weather’s already gotten a bit chilly. If you’re unlucky, it’s snowed, but that’s rare.

It’s much more common that the leaves will be in full color, the greens mostly dead, leaving only my favorite memories of the area: Reds and yellows bursting forth from street corners, woodsmoke curling through the air at night like a beckoning lover. Things are dying, or retreating, steeling themselves for the cold to come.
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The massive quake in Niigata yesterday did little more than rattle the walls and nerves of people here in Tokyo. Nobody I know was hurt. Let’s hope that the disaster relief in Niigata goes better than it did in Kobe a decade ago.

I’m off to Boston for a week, for a wedding and to celebrate Halloween in the best damn place in the world to get spooky. I’m sure I’ll be posting from there.

Came home to a Canadian Thanksgiving feast a few days back, which looks stunningly like the American version – but with more maple syrup. My Canadian roomie who hosted the little soiree has a fetish for Pink Lady, and after most of the guests left, he and a few others pulled out their Pink Lady DVD set and showed us all that in Japan, the 80s never ended.

I tell my students that the real reason I moved to Japan was for the fish.

They think I’m joking.
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It’s not surprising to find an actor who could make you believe that a man
could fly. But to find one who can transcend not only his talent but
the stereotypes forced upon him, to encourage others in real life, is a gift that we should not take lightly.

In the bleeding edge culture of 2004, where everything retro is new again, unless it wasn’t retro to begin with, Christopher Reeve was living proof that we can all try to overcome our adversities.
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To my all my progressive Aussie friends, for getting Peter Garrett elected to Parliament. (Garrett was the frontman for Midnight Oil.) Keep on keeping on…

Please bear with me, for I am under the influence of The Grape, Crushed like my soul.

At the beginning of September, I received an email from my friend Greg. For those of you who’ve been following my exploits since before I left America, don’t stop reading. Greg’s done something interesting.

In fact, so has Nick. But Greg’s first.
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