Benjo! Benjo! Benjo! And, getting a Voice
Apparently, I'm the new Voice Coordinator at my Nova school. This basically means I have more responsibilities for the same pay - a familiar theme in my work career and, I'm sure, in the employment histories of many twentysomethings. Yes, I'm a twentysomething. If you promise to ignore that lightning bolt of despair, I will, too. Nova has a Voice Room, which is open for eight hours a day. Students can go and sit in there, torturing their teachers, for 20 minutes or the full eight - the cost is the same. There are Voice themes that every school has - "special" voices for high or or mid or low level students, topic voices focusing on movies, sports, cooking or whatever else interests the teacher, and so on. Sometimes it's even fun. Last night I had my first topic voice, a movie voice about "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" The two-hour class was attended by a group of student, small but fiesty - kind of like me. Anyway, even though they seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, they felt the poor rabbit was too complex for them. They recommended a cartoon themed voice, focusing on Superman "because stories are simple. Only good and evil." Is this place cool or what? After work I headed off for a brief inebriational adventure at the Pink Cow, and got roped into doing dishes. It wasn't that hard to convince me: the owner offered me drinks and a small amount of money. Drinks would have been more than plenty. I stumbled home from Harajuku around one or so, but not before the "Comedy Night" courtesy the Tokyo Comedy Store had gotten its talons into me. I hadn't seen a live comedy show since taking a friend out for her birthday to see Margaret Cho more than a year ago. Most of the comedians were unremarkable, but this one Aussie guy had the entire place, including me, on the freakin' floor. It would be rude to repeat Cloudy B. Bongwater's act here; go see him. He has shows on Tuesdays at the Fiddler in Takadanobaba. What I can tell you is that there's nothing like a little Japanese lesson from the mouth of a jaded foreigner. Oh, the cynicism! Oh, the eccentricity! Oh, the inanity! No wonder they think we're all baka.