Flight to Japan - OH NO HE ISN'T

OH YES HE IS.

Greetings from United 891, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. Time is moving ever so slowly on this 747. I glance at my watch, let an eternity pass, glance again - and find that only twenty minutes have passed. Already, my quotidian life is dissolving away in the wash of this plane's engines.

(I was struggling with the idea of not bringing this laptop, but then I remembered that my last laptop went to Europe and South America, and this poor thing, which has served me faithfully for three years, hasn't been ANYWHERE.)

I haven't been to Japan in thirteen years, although I have pretty distinct memories of the place, especially Kyoto. I especially remember how clean and quiet the streets were, and the sense of utter peacefulness that suffused the streets. I remember a night saxophonist busking under the light of a full moon on a quiet downtown boulevard.

I also remember being glared at with intense disapproval for eating and walking at the same time. I won't be making that mistake again.

I only know two things about the Japanese languge, excluding all ninja-related nomenclature from the anime series Naruto. One, the word for raccoon is tanuki. Two, the character for trouble is the character for woman repeated twice.

I have a feeling that I'm in for many surprises here.