Fernandez Kun

I have had a breakthrough in the mystery of Fernandez-kun.

Many years ago I brought together some archival items in order to give some interviews about them to visiting members of the Japanese press. The PR team had me all dolled up, and it was all cool, but right before things all started they dropped the news that some of the interviews would be on camera. Oh! I had things all set up in a conference room, but if this was going to be on camera I would want to move the 12 chairs around the conference table into another room.

Just as things kicked off I realized that I had worked up a deep sweat. After simply rolling a few chairs into the next room! By the time the tv guy showed up I was in trouble. 

To set the scene, one of our Japanese press guests arrives with a translator. With one hand he is balancing the video camera on his shoulder, and the other hand is deep inside a big pink puppet, who is apparently his on camera talent. I am going to be interviewed by a puppet.

This may have been my first ever on camera interview, and at least *one* of the first, and I had questions. Should I interact with the man, the translator or the puppet? Is the show for adults or children? Puppet man was unsmiling and stiff and did not want to answer my questions. Not what I expected when I rolled into work that day, or even when I eyed his cute pink puppet. I had to just do my best.

The sweat reappeared and to my horror continued to roll down my face. I mouthed to the young woman who was managing the shoot "Help! I'm sweating!" She patted my face with some tissues. All I had done was move some chairs into the next room and try to survive a puppet interview.

It was at that moment that I realized "Ohhhhhh. This is menopause. It's here."

Puppet man left me a mini version of the puppet, whose name I thought was Fernandez kun. For years I'd quiz my friends about the character because I really wanted to know what his deal was. There's a tag on the little guy I have, but whatever it says is in a crazy font that isn't helpful.

Yesterday I got a wild hair again to figure out Fernandez kun. I did image searches for Fernandez-kun pink Japanese puppet and such. Nothing good (or at least nothing appropriate). And then I looked up Fernandez kun in google translate and put the japanese in the google search box. Hadn't I tried this before?

フェルナンデスくん is his name in Japanese.

This is the show he's from:

https://www.ntv.co.jp/hirunan/

https://www.instagram.com/hirunandesu_ntv_official/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=791194bb-3abc-4e0b-9239-71703cf26478

And there you have it. The mystery of Fernandez-kun is now solved.

Friday Vacation Day Is Much Appreciated

John Deere gave us an extra vacation day last Friday. It ended up being perfectly timed.

It was dreamy. I went to the jeweler and they fixed my mom's favorite necklace that she ripped off her neck while raging in the ER. They fixed it on the spot and did not charge me. Then I went to pick up some salmon teriyaki plates for dinner. Then I took the long way home and happened to see that the doors to the record store were open. Wheeee!!!

I made a beeline to the back room where they keep all the stuff I like. Turns out that they had a vast number of Japanese records, and even two records of sumo wrestlers singing (which is a genre). I bought them both, even though I suspected that I already had a copy of one of them. I intend to give that extra to clam dip (who I think does not appreciate her nickname).

I totally scored. I doubled my collection of Japanese LPs with smoking dudes on the cover, bringing the total to four. And some of the music was actually good. This Spanish guitar record with a Japanese twist was excellent.

Here are the singing sumotori records. Kotokaze, in orange, is a former ozeki (second highest rank in sumo) who retired in 1985. I really like his record, which you can find here.

And the other guy is Masuiyama II, also a former ozeki. From looking at old posts I can see that I do have his record already, so I look forward to gifting it to clam dip. You can hear the record here.

I won't go through the rest, but this cover really struck me. She's a Japanese woman with a big tattoo on her leg. Isn't that just for yakuza? Had to have it. Showed it to mrguy, who said "She's trans". Oh! Still didn't understand about the tattoo, but sure enough -- her name is Maki Carrousel, and she was one of the first openly trans women in Japan who had gender confirmation surgery, and she was one of the first people to have her gender changed in the official family registers. Super cool! I love that her website lists her blood type. Maybe that's a thing.

Japania 2016 Saturday -- On The Way Home

It was blisteringly hot in Nagasaki. So hot that I'd preferred to do nothing than do something in Japan, one of my favorite places in the world. Kinda sad.

My plane from Nagasaki was scheduled to leave at 7pm, but I took the bus to the airport at 11am (my hotel checkout time). The bus trip kills some time, which is nice. And you get to see some real Japan. Once at the airport there is air conditioning.

Anyhoo, I shopped at the airport. Looked at every possible knicknack and food thing. I came home with a Kewpie floating in a bathtub of Champon.

I did not purchase the "make rain go away" characters. But this ghost dude emerging from a bowl of Champon was the best. When I made these into earrings, weeks later, mrguy was both impressed and entertained.

Then I ate a set lunch and melon soda, while reading a book -- a former employee's fictionalized account of his time at the forklift factory. What's interesting is that he transports it to more present day times, when we all have phones. It would be too hard to explain the reality of his time, struggling with Palm Pilots that are supposed to recognize your handwriting and running around with heavy binders, then back to our desks where our computers lived. I read this book voraciously, and annotated with a pencil.

  Around 4pm I realized that the sound I was hearing was the hyoshigi (japanese blocks, clapped together to announce the beginning of the day's sumo matches). The sumo broadcast was starting! Right on. Nobody was in the seating area in front of the TV except me, a mother and her little boy, who was an avid fan. I watched all two hours pretty much by myself, except for a nun who joined me at the end and watched the proceedings while slowly munching a rice ball.

There were amazing foodstuffs on sale at the airport. Nice to know that you can get some whale bacon for the road. Ugh.

Hours later, at Haneda, I had another long wait. At one point I heard my name called. Never a good sign when traveling internationally. The gate agents invited me behind the ticket counter for an apologetic frisk. After that it was smooth sailing.

Tomorrow is Labor Day and I'm headed back to do this Japan thing all over again. Preferably with less whale!

Japan July 2016 Friday

Again with the food! I should amend what I said about Thursday's meal, by the way. We were "treated" in the sense that it is a treat to be able to partake of the artistry of someone who is so gifted. We did, in fact, pay (and handsomely!) for that meal. And no our per-diem doesn't really cover that level of cuisine, but we ate many cheap meals at the supermarket that week.

At this point in my trip I was ready to go home. My work was done, and I had a whole day to loaf around. I spent it at the mall, and then wached the sumo broadcast and napped until it was time for dinner. This was the big finish. Kagetsu, where the dining experience to have is Shippoku Ryori.

Established in the 1600s, Kagetsu began as a fancy courtesan house. It is now a restaurant, where you are served by ladies in gorgeous kimono.

We had an entire corner tatami room to ourselves, overlooking the garden. 

Adjoining it is a room you step down into, wearing slippers. This room was the first Western-styled room in Japan. I took weird photos of the ceiling and floor.

This is early on in our meal. Our server brought out dishes, explained them to our colleague who was translating for us, and then we asked questions. She would then take the one gorgeous plate and make six equally gorgeous portions out of the one. That alone was pretty spectacular.

There are some famous dishes associated with this meal, and we called ahead to say "No whale and no turtle". They must have just heard "whale" and "turtle". Witness "Whale Three Ways". Noooooo!

Now you know what whale bacon looks like. It's the two-toned stuff on the left.

Next was a famous Nagasaki dish called a "Pasty". This was the dish that contained a love bomb of turtle. Ohgeez.

This little gelee contained shrimp, gold leaf and okra. As you do.

Local vegetables, beef, more fois gras?

There was a pork belly dish, which I didn't photograph, and a dessert, and mochi swimming in sweet red bean sauce. The evening was kind of intense. And awesome. We paid these people wheelbarrows full of cash for this experience, and it was worth it. To be able to have these beautiful dishes described to us, and have this translated was alone a special treat.

So ends the last fancy night in Nagasaki. On our walk home we saw little bobtailed Japanese kittens in the parklet across from the restaurant. So cute.

Japan July 2016 Thursday

Thursday we were treated to an amazing kaiseki meal at a six-seat restaurant.   The reservation process was a little complex. A guy from the museum called for the reservation because he's a regular. Turns out that there was already a reservation for *one*, and we were already a party of six. But the guy who had the reservation was a friend of the guy from the museum, so the museum guy persuaded him to eat there on another night. We had our kaiseki meal after all.

Let the deliciousness begin! 

This photo shows a cube of savory something, topped by a pickled yuzu bud. The champagne flute to the left contains some lobstery fluid with seaweed.

Sashimi of various fishes served with their respective livers:

 While waiting on us and preparing other dishes at a *furious* pace, the chef was also tending to the grill on the left, which had a heat source under what looked like Spanish roof tiles.

This plate was complex -- two nubbins of pickled ginger that the chef had grown and pickled himself. Two chunks of cod miso yaki, a gigantic scallop and some sort of scallop pudding that was the best thing we ate all night (right up there with the lobstery liquid).

In this photo, our chef is putting the final touches on filet mignon.

The pace went on unabated, and we were filling up fast. It was a little intimidating, because the chef was pouring his heart and soul into these dishes and they keep coming. Some, like the sashimi of fish and their livers, were quite rich. I think there's one dish I didn't even photograph! Here is the filet, with a huge chunk of fois gras, a potato and a gigantoid mushroom. It arrived bloody rare. So huge. I felt trapped. Everything was delicious but I thought I'd pop.

Finally, the end. White peach season was upon us, and the white peaches in Nagasaki were delicious. White peaches, white peach ice cream and something else -- maybe white peach gelee? 

 
We waddled home, petted Pudding and had another excellent conversation with Pudding's mama. We hugged a lot that night. I missed my own mama, so it was nice to hug a willing, toothless old lady (even if she did slap me in the boob and call me fat earlier in the week).

Japan July 2016 Wednesday

On Wednesday, we finished the condition reporting. It was amazing to be done that quickly. I spent the rest of the day on documentation.

After work we walked to a restaurant where we ate in a tatami room. I don't know the name of this pesticide company with the rooster mascot, but I love this sign for their mosquito coils.

It was fun to have a place to ourselves (with a phone to call downstairs for more beer or food). It was up a set of stairs that was quite precipitous. 

The food was delightful, but I'm ashamed that I ate whale. This was whale tail, and it was fluffy like gelatin and served with some steamed and exquisitely prepared green onions. A mystifying dish.

It wasn't all about whale. We had some gorgeous sashimi, as well.

Then we headed to a cowboy bar, Jimmy's Graceland. Jimmy's wasn't technically open that night, but he agreed to show up and play some music for us. He sang Route 66 and some Hank Williams. And we were the only customers. I felt bad about this because I am a cheap date these days, so there wasn't much in it for Jimmy except for the mad amounts of press he'll get from the readers of mrsguy ;).

Japan July 2016 Tuesday

Work continue to go amazingly, and we had dinner at a Chinese restaurant. 

The night sky was fabulous.

Japan July 2016 Sunday

Walked to Amu Plaza and saw many things. 

Went to Tokyu Hands. Didn’t buy the bag that converts to a backpack and I should have.

But later at the supermarket I bought a cheap (5 bucks) and awesome bag that comes inside a bag. I used the tiny bag on Monday to bring my tiny lunch to the museum.

Back at Amu Plaza there were lovely things to see:

 

We went on a tour of Nagasaki harbor in a reproduction of a boat given by the Netherlands to the Emperor of Japan. The tour was hosted by our museum translator. I love rusted stuff.

Then we went to the supermarket and bought things for our dinner. I made a salad! Japan's awesome that way. I'm bringing a Tupperware when I come back in September.

Japan July 2016 Saturday

Note: as is my custom of late, I only wrote two posts in real time and then the rest in arrears. I am reposting them in order six weeks later.

+++++

Time to switch gears and go to Japan. Despite having put things aside for the trip prior to my family vacation it took until the last minute to finish packing (while watching Season 1 of Hawaii 5-0). Mrguy was my ride, and got me to the airport with plenty of time.

The first flight was fine. I was flying first class, and after having done that I can’t see spending those sums on a short hop flight where they can’t even lavish you with attention. The nice girl next to me had a $2500 LV tote, and I, the pretender, was wearing my pants from Goodwill and a sumo-themed t-shirt that the Japanese are not really enjoying.

The Goodwill pants and I are not quite the same shape at the moment. I was really happy to get my baggage at my first connection and open it to find my belt because my pants were falling down.

Then off to the airport lounge. I served myself a plate of coconut curry chicken and a smoothie and streamed Pakele Live so I could watch Waipuna’s second set. David was on fiyaah! Sad that they’re headed to Fukushima next week when I’ll be in Nagasaki. So near and yet so far.

 

The big flight was ok. Really, if the seat folds flat that’s enough. Anything else is gravy. But I have to say that I asked for a bowl of udon and it was vile. Completely vile. It tasted like Funyun-flavored lawn clippings on noodles. So bad. And I clearly picked the wrong Vanity Fair for the trip. Let’s call it the sex abuse issue. Endless stories of sex abuse. But I watched part of one show in which Matsuko interviewed a guy who is obsessed with gummy candy. I love Matsuko. She’s so imperious. But she’s a big lady and I was worried about all of the sugar she was eating. A person should pass out from eating that many gummies.

Haneda has been interesting. I followed my colleagues’ instructions on how to navigate the airport. All worked out so well. Found my first Lawsons and bought smoked tarako-centered rice ball, some jello with loquat and a package of sumo baby treats. No idea what it is. AND I found Orangina brand gummies, introduced to me last night by the lovely Matsuko.

Then I got to security. I’d brought my tools with me, as a safeguard against losing them. They didn’t care about the knife blade, but they didn’t like my tweezers. They made me check my laptop bag, so now I’m carrying a laptop and a hard drive and my binder. Argh.

And now I wait. One more flight and one more bus ride and one walk or taxi and I'm there. All I care about is that I'm in front of a television at 4pm for today's sumo broadcast. I haven't watched live in a while. What if my tv has English language audio? That would be heaven. I printed out the banzuke so I can catch up (there's been a lot of movement in the last few bashos).

Thank You, YDC!

Thank you, Yokozuna Deliberation Committee, for nominating ozeki Kakuryu as sumo's next yokozuna. He's good, he works hard, and it'll be fun to have three grand champions at once.

Thank you YDC for giving up on your great Japanese hope, Kisenosato. Lowering your standards in the hopes that Kisenosato will prevail only makes you look (more) xenophobic. It isn't a gift to him, either. Who wants to be the grand champion who got in on a technicality?

Thank you Kisenosato for repeatedly choking when the YDC sets low standards. Maybe they'll leave you alone now and you can shine as a really good ozeki without all of the additional pressure of promotion.

Thank you, Endo, for being the next great Japanese hope. Your hair isn't even long enough for a mage yet, but you're a comer and probably have the chance.

I love you, sumo!

Bucket List

Now that I'm vastly old, it seems only appropriate to have a bucket list.

The purpose? To always have goals to move toward, odd though they might be. It's in the forward motion that comes the satisfaction, I think. Some of the list items will be easy. Some will not. Half of the fun is in thinking them up and memorializing them here.

In no particular order:

1. Take an exercise class with Richard Simmons
2. Ride a camel (not a location-specific goal)
3. Sit in the booth with Doreen Simmons while she comments on a sumo basho for NHK
4. Write a book
5. Meet distant family in Ireland
6. Play Carnegie Hall or Royal Albert Hall
7. Be a balloon wrangler in the Thanksgiving Day Parade
8. Volunteer in the Bishop Museum archives
9. Have our Hawaiian band sponsor a match in a sumo tournament in Japan
10. Play music at a retirement home (as added and commented here) 
11. Learn to tie knots (as added in 2015)

I wanted to accomplish #1 last week, but ran out of time. Imminently doable. #2 is inspired by miss wartz, who went on camelback in Morocco and slept in the desert in a tent with camels and complained about how loud their tummies were. Now that's an amazing adventure. Unlikely for me. I just want to ride the camel.

#7 goes way back to the time when I was a volunteer at a museum of advertising characters. One afternoon I took a nap and dreamed that I was a giant Mr. Salty:

and I was on my way to the Empire State Building for a date with Dolly Madison:

I was walking up 5th Avenue on my way for this date. I began to levitate and became a balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I've written this down before, right?

Best dream ever, if you ask me. Except for the dream where Maya Angelou taught me how to drive an 18-wheeler.

They're all dreams, really.

Interviewing, Japanese Style

Last week I was interviewed for Japanese television by a puppet who spoke to me through his interpreter.

They like their forklifts over there in Japan...

Poi, My Boy

One night while working in Japan I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep. Thus started my interest in taro and poi.

I turned on the tv and found what seemed to be a travel show. A woman with a traditional newscaster's mic walked up and down rows of very tall taro plants. She parted the leaves of one row to reveal two ladies eating their lunch in the taro patch, under the shelter of the huge, heart-shaped leaves. Then she interviewed them. Hilarious!

The next segments dealt with getting the skin off of the taro. Various methods were explored, including using a wadded up piece of aluminum foil as a scrubber. Then they showed a traditional method in which a wooden cage was placed in the narrow spot in a stream. The force of the water rotated the cage, and the taro rubbed against each other and the cage.

Then to the studio, where various minor celebrities cooked baby taro roots on George Foreman grills. I'll never know what this show was about, but it made me curious about taro.

About a year later, a small group of us played Hawaiian music at a friend's wedding. As part of the buffet, there was poi. I'd never had it. I asked Auntie to take a picture of me, I was so excited. It was tasty. It had a slight perfume of violets. I started buying poi at the store when I came across it. Mrguy won't touch it.

After my amazing poi experience in September, I really wanted to know how to make it myself. I steamed some taro and pounded it while watching the Golden Globes. Super tasty. Nutty. Not like my first taro or the taro I get from the store. I can't wait to learn more.

Monday is our poistravaganza.

Japan 2010, Day 14

We spent our last day in Japan with friends from 2008. We met them in Mitaka and went to a forklift factory, a forklift museum and an amazing dinner in Mitaka.

It was lovely, and due to the confidential nature of forklifts, no photos were allowed.

It was awesome.

I am exhausted, having just written these posts. It seems a little preposterous that we actually did that much stuff. I still have a few themed musings to share, and after that I hope to live strictly in the present.

I am, after all, actually on vacation at the moment!

Japan 2010, Day 13

This was our day to go to Kamakura. I didn't really want to go. I heard that it was all about the temples and I thought that the temples in Kyoto were mainly a bust. Mrguy really wanted to go, so we went.

It was lovely. The train dumped us out in the middle of nothing much, and we entered a complex of temples. I could not stop taking pictures.

 

the buildings were pretty and the plantings were pretty. We followed people who were standing in line to go into a building and took off our shoes with them as we had at Ryoanji. A monk kindly addressed us and helped us understand that this was Zen instruction, not a visitor site ;)

There was groovy stuff to see everywhere:

 

The setting below reminds me of a landscape from a Miyazaki film.

 

After  leaving the temple we went to the next train stop in order to find some lunch. It was another one of those situations in which I was too hungry to decide what to do. Central Kamakura was as crowded as the temple had not been.

We wandered around the windy side streets of Kamakura and I saw a sign for pizza outside of a teensy storefront. We went in.

THIS was the best thing in town. The place was no wider than a railroad car, and definitely not as long. On one side of the room was a shallow bar with a few built-in stools. On the other side were a few booths. A woman in her early sixties greeted us. This was her place.

The other customer was an older gentleman at the bar who passed the time with her as he faced the door with his side to her. He reminded me a lot of Don Ho and other gentlemen from years past with leisure suits and matching shoes, slicked-back hair and a few gold-edged teeth. Clearly he put a lot into his grooming and seemed like a bit of a swinger. The place was too intimate for photo taking, so a few closeups is all that I got.

The pizza was just what it looked like. Pepperidge Farm puff pastry dough with a few spoonfuls of sauce, a sprinkling of cheese and a couple of olives or mushrooms. She made it in the toaster oven behind the bar and it took forever. Who cares? It was an amazing experience.

 

I don't think the decor had changed for thirty years, and she was playing CSNY and other American rock music from the 1970s. The only soft drinks they had were tonic and something else. I had a tonic. Can you see the bottle? It looks like new old stock. I felt like I'd fallen into one of my vintage Hawaii Five-0 episodes. I wanted to buy her business right then and there and retire to Kamakura with my honey.

What an adventure. Afterward we found local beers to bring back home to Tokyo and hot off the griddle sembei for me to eat. I really liked Kamakura.