I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN

Anyway, the past couple of weeks were a bit eventful.  The Hansens came to visit, and I got another year older.

It even made the paper.





Anyway, the question was about a proposed law restricting foreigners coming in unless they can speak the language.  How odd that the issue would come up at the same time on both sides of the ocean, when both sides have approaching elections.  What are the odds?

The day of the birthday party, the kids were still jet lagged.



But when they woke up, things picked up a bit. Here they are showing the grill who's boss.



"Kawaii" is Japanese for "cute," which is something you'll hear ad nauseum if you walk around Tokyo with two blonde kids.





I got a fan.  Here's Surugi explaining the intricacies.



"OK, you open it and wave it back and forth.  The writing says 'dorky American.'"

Someone (probably Surugi) did a little illustration of me.



OK, so what's the katakana say?

Hmm...Cha...do.  OK, Chad.  Ma...yo...ne...zu.

"Chad Mayonnaise?"  What does THAT mean?  Why would...





Cute.

OK, anyway, the next day the Hansens went to Kyoto, and took some photos themselves.

The world's most amazing parking job.



They report that the car was in no way touching the building, save for the tires.  Yow.



That's a normal car.  Connie is seven feet tall.





That last thing is...

Uh.  Hey look at the dog!



One of the weird things about living here is seeing things that used to be in the States, but are no more. Like Shakey's Pizza.



Another is the rather odd tendency to take pictures of food.





A few days later, we went to a restaurant that actually grills hunks of fat in front of you, just to lube the thing up for the assorted stuff they plop down in front of you.





Since there's a lot of splattering going on, they even give you a bib.



Dinner.



OK, in the next few weeks, I have a bunch of shows coming up, so the next update will most likely be, uh, kind of dark.

As always, mail me here.