The Canada Goose – An Animal to Love or Hate?

The answer depends on which side of the border you reside.

I will speak on behalf of all Americans- We`ve all slipped in green poo.

Most of the infamous Canada geese who purportedly fly south for the winter end up in the state of Pennsylvania. My personal belief is that the mixture of corn fields and huge landing pads makes for a perfect goose Nirvana. Majestic when heading south in the V-formation, these super flyers morph once hitting the ground, becoming a different species all together. Something along the lines of a winged, attack dog. I`d rather run up on a flying monkey.

The company I worked for had hundreds of acres of pristine country farmland which  doubled as a much-loved rest stop for the geese. A blinking neon wing unseen to the human eye pointed out this geese oasis. As attractive as a road side Cracker Barrel, most never bothered completing their trip further south and settled in for good with a “This is far enough” mentality. The geese were so overjoyed with these new digs they started producing millions of goslings. They even over ran the rabbit population.

Which if I had my pick, I`d go with rabbits every time as they tend to run away as you walk toward your car versus gathering several buddies to run at you, beaks snapping and gargantuan wings flapping. Oh- That doesn`t sound scary to you? Those gigantic wings tend to get very buffed on the flight down. SO buff in fact, that if you happened to gently lay an arm in the armpit of a goose- it could break it.

Fear not, no need to get up close with a goose in order for it to break an arm. One poor colleague learned the hard way when one of the zombie geese jumped out from behind a parked car hopping and snarling. It scared him so bad he ran into a parked car and broke his arm. True Story. We`re still laughing at him. I mean with him, with him.

These monsters from the North are so ferocious that the Border Collies hired to chase them ran away yelping after a run in or two. The plant manager finally realized that netting over the courtyard would prevent the monthly ritual of the goose parade through the hallways and outside. (Followed closely by the janitorial staff cleaning up the poo as the geese honked and hissed their way through the building) Heaven forbid your office had a window overlooking a nest. Mama would constantly harass the occupant, pecking the window, threatening and pointing-

goose eyes copyAs with many species, the reason they continue to prosper in the state of Pa is that the babies are cute. Even a garbage throwing, Santa Clause booing Philly fan has a hard time running over a family of geese crossing the road.

However, I`ve found a Canada Goose even an American can love.

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I used to laugh at the hood too until the wind froze my nostrils together.

The Canada Goose Parka. An American`s path toward loving the modern-day T Rex.

Living in a climate with temperatures to -70 ? ( C or F- doesn`t matter- it feels the same at that level) This is the coat for you.Technically speaking, it`s a parka. As a person who didn`t own a winter coat until I was 23, this was a nuance of language lost on me.  Without my beloved Canada Goose, I`d be forced underground for 6 months. Since we`ve got to eat, I would have to venture out to the grocery store at least once. Otherwise my alternatives were either a starving family or one living a pioneer life off frozen mushrooms scoured from the basement garage. Emerging from winter with scurvy, mange, and no teeth would undoubtedly color the Offspring`s perspective of Canada toward the negative.

I know, some of the Canadians reading this are calling me dramatic- or histrionic, because they know that one can in fact live an entire winter in Montreal underground. And Further, most Canadians think of the geese as logos since none have ever encountered one live. But those are different topics left for warmer times.

Until winter ends folks- mush on.

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Aunt Suzie sent me this after I posted. Looks like the folks in Seattle may feel the same way…

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BRING it.

 

 

 

 

 

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There are Bear in those Woods- or There Were Recently

Some of you may be concerned that I forgot about the story I`d started last time. This part of it cost me so much money that like a repressed memory, it`s hard for me to recall the details.

Whistler, BC was the site of this stop on our Canada tour. Most commonly known for the snowless winter Olympics and the picturesque town for Ski and snow bums, we had discovered it was also a major destination for summer adventure seekers. The snow runs become hair-raising mountain biking trails, fisherman cast for fish smaller than the worm used as bait, and the bears meander through the mountains eating berries all day long. Having been scarred as a child reading about a bear who slapped the face off a hiker in Canada, I decided to face my bear phobia with an adrenaline infused day watching them from the safety of a car.

The website claimed several bear sitings the previous days. A world renowned bear expert would lead us over the mountains and through the woods all from the comfort (safety) of a large car capable of plowing over a charging bear running after one of the Offspring. I happily charged one million Canadian dollars on the American Express for this once in a lifetime opportunity. The only problem I could anticipate was the 6 Am meeting time. We prepared our breakfast of hotel home-brew and packages of nuts the night before.

At 5:45 we drug our own hibernating Offspring to the meeting site, Spouse and I nursing our coffees. Our world renowned expert had sent his replacement for the day- a retired ski bum. Retired from her years of skiing and smoking pot, she had mellowed in to a hawk-eyed, bear spotting species conservationist. She nodded a greeting and commenced the tour without speaking. I took this as a sign to conserve our energy. It was going to be a banner day for watching bears in their native environment.

We started up the mountain in her SUV. She rolled down the windows, pulled out her binoculars and scanned the hill sides for crazed or grazing bears. The SUV must have been more to accommodate her driving than our safety as she never took down her binoculars to examine the road. We meandered slowly (thank the Lord) along the road, toward the trees, in the trees, out of the trees, directly down a black run on the mountain, over a stacked log or two, through deep mountain trenches filled with running water, and eventually back on the road. In short, she scared the bears right back to wherever they go at night.

For five hours we combed the sides. No longer worried about losing my face to a bear, I began to steer clear of the Offspring in case they turned on me in revenge. Even Spouse was losing his enthusiasm. When I began to lick the sides of my coffee cup our guide decided to shift the focus from bear watching to signs of bear evidence. She must have been pretty sure our day was a bust as we were now allowed out of the car unfettered. Although comforted by the absence of bear scat, I held on to hope and screamed in terror every time the wind whistled through the pines. The Offspring were now throwing rocks off the sides of the banks in a desperate attempt at entertainment.

Our guide pointed us in to the trees. She looked lovingly at a lone fallen tree. Her face transformed in to that of an angel beholding the face of God.

“A den” she sang in praise.

We ran toward the den. I hoisted Offspring #2 in the air for a photo-op of her in the den.

“NOOOOOO!!!!” screamed our guide suddenly possessed with the personality of a demon. ” We can`t disturb this site!” It looked to me based on all the signs warning of its presence that it potentially had been disturbed before. But- we`re rule followers and I was going to angle for a return of at least $500,ooo if we didn`t see any bears- or other wildlife, or even birds- so I didn`t want to do anything to jeopardize my negotiating position.

Luckily Spouse was tall enough to drop the camera in the top of the den. So folks, for those you wondering what it looks like inside a bear den- here you go. The money shot. Literally.

20140202-094600.jpgAnd then this happened.

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JK- nothing happened.

I tried to sell everyone on the benefits of six hours driving up and down a mountain in silence. No one was buying.

Naturally we saw several bear free of charge.

While the next group of gullible tourists were up on the mountain looking for the bears on a Weight Watchers diet, the fat bears were eating junk food out of the garbage in the town parking lot.

20140202-095435.jpgFurther down the road, we found the smart bears using cubs to beg for food.

Unfortunately for Mama bear, OS#1 was driving and ran over one on the way out.

Not really,  OS#1 drives so slow the bear out ran us as you can see.

For those of you worried about the plural of bear- according to Websters, the plural of bear is either bear or bears. I`ve used them both for good measure.

So the lesson is that yes- there are bears in the woods but don`t pay to see them.

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The Biggest Drawback to the Clampitts` Move to Canada…

is Offspring #1 can drive.

We`re more concerned about ourselves than him as one of us has to sit in the front seat while he learns. It was much easier to guide him from the coffee table to the couch when he learned to walk- under those circumstances we were both not in mortal danger. As Spouse and I like to jump right in, we opted to let him learn some highway driving on our trek across Canada- starting with the drive from Vancouver to Whistler.

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I attribute this bad decision to jet lag and a need for blogging fodder.

Some of you more versed in the finer points of map reading might immediately recognize the topography along our route. Mountainous. You might also see that the highway runs along water. And those of you with advanced map reading abilities would probably deduce that such a road would be laden with curves and hairpin turns. Spouse and I are not of your ilk therefore our focus was on who had to sit up front rather than the dangerous and potentially lethal situation in which we had happily put our family.

One thing we did know was the person in the Passenger seat was in the most danger.

We did what we always do. We played rock, paper, scissors –  best 2 of three. Loser up front. I lost so someone must have outcheated me. I refused to sit up front. Spouse suggested another game of chance. Our next game involved picking a number between 1 and 10, the closest to the actual number (chosen by Offspring #2) was the winner. Spouse won again. I know  OS#2 had fed her father the number. Obviously another blatant cheating episode and I again refused the front. I had only one alternative-fake sick. Spouse argued period cramps did not preclude me from providing driver oversight. Luckily for me we were still in front of the Hertz car rental. I climbed in the back and refused to move knowing it would be difficult to drag me out with everyone  watching. I`m not without sympathy so I offered Spouse a legal -yet mood altering- substance. He declined so I went ahead and took it myself ensuring I would be very relaxed and unbreakable in the likely event of a collision. (Always carry NyQuil for these unexpected situations)

Offspring #1 donned his driving cap and we were off like a herd of wild turtles.

We soon realized that the topography we overlooked conspired for a perfect storm of dangerous driving situations.  Mountains, curves and spectacular views lead to driver looking at view while headed toward a rock face, driver hitting a curve going 40 mph too fast, or driver going too slow leading to a log jam of cars behind us. About half way to Whistler we were leading the Bunny Hop up the highway. Since all of us were most focused on the view ahead we failed to notice the train of traffic behind us. When we finally encountered the passing area, the 40 car conga line passed us each triumphantly waving the third finger in thanks.

As Offspring #2 and I were slung to and fro around the corners, it occurred to me that the seat belt alone could not protect us from the devastation wreaked on our bodies by OS#1 as he hurtled down the highway toward the various mountain faces. We would need to buy some additional protection for the next leg.

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Hard to get in a suitcase but handy for parties.

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You too can own one….

From the back our journey felt more like an airplane trip with a pilot engaged in war games maneuvers. Dips, roles, turbulence, birds, and bullets. Wait- there weren`t any bullets. That may have been more NyQuil than driver induced.

As is the case with these ill devised plans, the NyQuil just made me sleepy as I fought the constant barrage of nausea. When we weren`t slung against the windows, we were cast up toward the car roof. Cars behind us thought we were raising our arms in glee as the car lurched downward when protection of our heads was truly our goal. No longer worried about distracting the driver, we screamed every time we left our stomachs on the way down. It made a roller coaster ride tame.

We arrived bruised and battered from our sling shot drive. After a 2 hour ride where none of us saw the amazing views, we arrived in Whistler for two days of relaxation. Hoarse from screaming we mimed our need of a room, unloaded, rested, and prepared for the first agenda item.

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Vancouver – A Great Place to Leave your Children

So I must admit. Spouse and I started our indoctrination trip in Vancouver for purely selfish reasons. I haven`t calculated exactly how far Vancouver is from Montreal but give or take  4,889 km or 3,037 miles would be a good close guess. This is the exact distance we want between ourselves and a college bound freshman. Anything remotely driveable means said Offspring could show up unannounced at an inconvenient time, hungry,toting a mildewed pile of laundry stuck together in a garbage bag.

We were really going to sell Vancouver and it`s stellar universities hard.

For those of you just tuning in, we started with the Capilano Bridge. (read here) Just a warm up to the remaining festivities.

All of you with teenagers- or those of you who have been teenagers, or still act like them- know that the choice of a University really has nothing to do with academics. In Offspring #1`s case, it boils down to one clear and firmly set criterion- is it a snowboarding location? A little different from his best friend`s-who maintains the perfect college is one where he never has to wear long pants. Spouse and I had to prove Vancouver was up to the challenge. This was our guiding principle in activity planning followed closely by another topic important to teenaged boys- food.

We began with the hard sell. Miku Restaurant on the Waterfront.

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We knew we were in the right place when we heard real Japanese being spoken from the open kitchen. I showed off my mad Japanese skills immediately setting off a cacophony of complaints from the Offspring begging me to stop. Since having children isn`t a money-making operation and you`ll never recoup the investment, make yourself feel better by embarrassing them at every opportunity. It`s also a great pay back for when they get caught drinking. I jabbered on in my unintelligible Japanese while the chefs nodded politely. They were trying to decipher the language I had chosen to speak.

The food was great and OS#1 ate much more than we could afford.

The next day was dedicated to convincing OS#1 that Vancouver has the best snowboarding ever. The lack of snow was a minor distraction easily overcome by the teen friendly activities planned. The best way to learn the topography of a mountain is via zip line.

We`ve all zip lined before and I would rate it a 3 on a 10 point scale for fear factor. As we got closer I started to get a little apprehensive. 200 meters above the ground? How high is that exactly? 50 mph? I was comforted by the constant landing of the fire helicopter on the pad located directly next to the first launch site. At least we would be air lifted to a hospital.

Screen Shot 2013-11-06 at 8.56.22 AMOur first ride was a warm up. I still managed to squirt a drop or two of pee on the crowd below.

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“Mom- I think it`s raining.”

The zip line then transitioned from fun to vomit inducing. Our instructor prepared us.

“This goes fast and is a little rough on the other end. You`ll see the big red bag at the end of the line. You`re going to hit it- hard- and you`re going to be going fast. As soon as you see the red bag, tuck your chin to your chest and keep it there! Otherwise, it will hurt REALLY bad- and for a long time after.” Spouse and OS#1 went first. All I saw was a huge puff of dust and pine needles accompanied by a sonic boom when they hit the bag. S&'(t!

But if you want to evaluate the snowboardability, one must get a lot higher than a few feet off the ground. Luckily there were no people below when I took on the zip line 20 stories above the ground. (Although exaggeration prone on occasion, this was not one of those times. Swear.) Body fluid from every orifice rained down on the pristine landscape below. My poor babies would be crying for me when they got to the platform.

Crying out of disappointment.

OS#1 beat OS#2 to the platform in a race across the ravine. This brought on several minutes of heated debate regarding the advantage of body weight vs ability to become  stream lined in a zip line race. (Which must be a highly paid professional sport based on the heat of this debate) That ended when I produced the duct tape I carry with me at all times to end these endless squabbles.

Unfortunately I don`t have any pictures to support any of these claims. But it looked just like the web site:

Screen Shot 2013-11-06 at 3.03.16 PMThe snow and pretty girls were taking a break while we were there.

According to their current chalet cam shots, it`s not quite the bee hive of activity I promised OS#1. No matter, I`m sure the co-eds are studying for mid terms right now. Because snowboarders  and trick skiers are an academic bunch.

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The second part of our Vancouver sales pitch involved proving the closeness of Whistler. We pointed our rental in that direction with our novice driver at the wheel.

I`ll describe that hour and a half next time….I think I`m getting short of breath just thinking about it.

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Moving Teenagers- Are You Up To It?

Moving teenagers- are you up to it?

That depends.

Are you willing to stick your head inside the mouth of a Great White Shark?

Would you let a rabid dog chew on your ear for days at a time?

Are you the resilient stuff of teflon against a Jewish/Catholic mother`s parenting technique combining guilt and pasta to influence your behavior?

Do you crumble in the face of crying-? Your own or others…

A parent approaching teenagers with a move- and I`d recommend this be done with two parents even if that means borrowing one in the case of a single parent household- must at a minimum be able to fend off a constant barrage of barbs, withstand the onslaught of guilt inducing comments designed to cause you or your spouse to wither in regret, or weather endless periods of silence punctuated with brief interludes of weeping and gnashing of teeth.

For several months.

Some of you may think this is usual and customary behavior for a teenager- which it is- however announcing a move to a teenager has the same effect as pouring gas on the fire. Spouse and I are thrill seekers, addicted to adrenaline spurred on by the roar of teenaged angst, therefore we like to pull the rug out from under our kids every two years to keep them flexible. A valuable life skill.

Our intended move to Canada was greeted with the sort of enthusiasm usually exhibited by an angry mob carrying torches and wooden stakes. Not that Canada was such a bad place- Heaven would have met the same resistance. Poor Spouse was stuck between a mob and a hard place- the menacing teenagers or a snarky Ouisar- san facing the prospect of a dull life back home. The fire toting mob was more appealing.

But oh Grasshoppers, Spouse and I have been down this road before and have learned a few tricks along the way. In addition to bribery:

She`s really cute on the rare occasions she`s not peeing or pooping someplace other than outside

She`s really cute on the rare occasions she`s not peeing or pooping someplace other than outside

we have learned a new skill. A sort of slow, persistent, mind control which takes some time and patience. Indoctrination. A technique effectively used by cult leaders uniquely adapted by the Clampitts to suit our needs. Spouse and I decided a two-week driving tour through Western Canada would fit with this super soaker approach.

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Looks like such a short jaunt on the map

18 driving hours and 14 days of good quality family time learning about our new home.

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All the fun to be had in Canada. Curling, Camping, and a few things involving blunt unidentifiable objects in the bottom left.

Only the truly courageous would undertake this sort of trip with two brooding teens.

Our two-week hypnosis  trip started in Vancouver BC. My sister, the Nose, suggested some of her favorites which were dismissed immediately. She drags toddlers to the Jimmy Carter museum in Atlanta and has been known to wait outside the LBJ Library in a tent to be the first inside. Although something like that would have garnered a grand reaction from the offspring, we were looking for something a little more gut grabbing.

The Capilano Suspension bridge looked to be a great starting point. We could either throw ourselves or them over the edge if the first leg of our indoctrination process journey wasn`t going as planned. 230 feet above and 470 feet across the Capilano river, the  bridge creaks and sways, or leaps up and down if my jack ass son is trying to bounce Spouse and me off the bridge. We welcomed the help over the side.

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Jumping seemed appropriate for several reasons. At the top of the list was Offspring #1`s  nice, new and  shiny Learner`s Permit for driving. For this reason I brought along a substantial amount of valium reserved for the adult sitting up front. Spouse and I fought over the death seat for two solid weeks- a scary location even after consuming tightly controlled prescription medications. The suspension bridge could end all that.

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I knew we had reached an all time low when OS #2 complained about the scenery. In retrospect, it was truly awful.

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I found myself begging , “Please make it go away. I can`t take it anymore! I want to be in a big dirty city back home! Bring me my red glitter shoes!”

20131103-125242.jpgThe locals looked on in boredom having seen it all before.

DSC_0530But my friends,we were just warming up…

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Hiroshima – Is It a Must See?

I`ll admit it to you. As much as I like to check off all UNESCO sites no matter how uninteresting some may be, Hiroshima was not high on my list of places to visit. As a UNESCO site it draws visitors from all over the world, but unless I could pass myself off as something other than American, I feared a hostile reception. I was more than happy to strong arm a visiting friend`s teenaged daughter to the site even though I`d avoided the trip myself. It was too late to back out when I realized I would have to be the one to take her.

At 8:15, the A bomb was dropped and time literally stood still.

DSCN2260We spent a lot of time looking at the only building to “survive” the blast which did so because it was directly under the bomb.

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Not much was left but remnants.

The dome and hall before:

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And after.

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Seen from the same position.

The area surrounding the Hall was incinerated.

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People were vaporized, leaving shadows to document their last action. Painting, walking, or sitting on a stair.

DSCN2273As it looks today:

DSCN2272The blast embedded shrapnel in concrete.

DSCN2276Everything melted.

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Cast iron, glass and ceramic roofing tiles were all susceptible.

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DSCN2225DSCN2230DSCN2232 DSCN2233Roaming around the site were hundreds of school children. A group of three shyly approached to practice their English, starting with our country of origin. Once the others saw our smiles and friendly dispositions, we were swarmed whereas the foreign men with somber faces were left alone.

DSCN2257Several laid origami wreaths made with thousands of cranes.

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All the hundreds of children present rang the bell. It`s loud.

Yes- peace- for all.

DSCN2249So yes- it is a must see. Like other horific reminders of the past, this place reminds us of the reality around nuclear weapons at the same time telling a story of devastation, pain, and healing.

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*** One of the best books on Hiroshima is John Hersey`s “Hiroshima.” Hersey tells the stories of 6 survivors describing that day in August 6, 1945. A truly compelling but easy read.

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Beginnings and Endings

The Nose called.

“Talk to Dad- here he is.”

He`d been sick.

“Hey Dad- I`ll be there on the 23rd. Just dropping our stuff in Montreal first.”

His voice had changed since he`d gotten sick- a sickness of unknown origin. Maybe when men get old their voices change again.

“I don`t know why you girls are so worked up. I`ll be here. Take care of your family.”

That`s all I needed to hear. He let me off the hook. The Clampitts were pulling up the stakes. The movers were scheduled to arrive in two weeks. The Offspring had exams soon.  The 23rd was only a month away. He didn`t sound that sick. Spouse had gone ahead to Montreal 6 months ago. Dad needed to wait until after the move to get really sick.

But the Nose didn`t sound right. I know her as my sister, but the woman on the phone sounded like her day job- a physician. Someone who deals with very ill people every day- the emergency room, the critical care unit- places where patients can`t talk. Guarded, efficient, ensuring I said hello.

I called back.

“How sick is he? Like not going to make it until I get there?”

“I don`t know. Maybe not.”

A 14 hour flight, no one to look after the kids, a giant earthquake- all these obstacles jumped to the forefront. And so did all the angels in my life who flew in to take over at a moment`s notice. The Social Chairman, the Philipina. Women who quietly came in and took over.

It took 24 hours to get on a plane even though I booked it immediately as soon as I got off the phone.

The Offspring were threatened. “Be good or suffer greatly when I return.”

Then bribed. “Be good and I`ll reward you when I return.”

Then guilted. “Be good or I will never trust you again.”

Next came the lists. They both stood silently. Nodding. Not real sure how to manage this strange woman formerly known as their mother.

I couldn`t quite get out the door. So instead I burst in to tears.

Offspring #1 came over, putting his arms around me like a father.

“Mom- go- it will be ok. It`s all going to be ok. Don`t worry. Just go be with Grandpa.” My son was growing up. He walked me to the door. Opened it. Shut it. Locked it.

Facing 14 hours on the air plane then another hour in the rental car, I made myself comfortable with 2 NyQuil and ear plugs. The plane was dark. Having done this a few times, there`s a certain Zen to it once you get the hang of it.

“Hello Love”. My dad said in my ear. His usual greeting. Happy. Smiling. His warm breath blowing my hair. I jolted awake. The plane was dark. Everyone was asleep.

I knew he was gone. He`d passed by to say goodbye since I hadn`t made it in time.

So I wasn`t surprised when my sisters were unexpectedly at the airport ready to give me the bad news.

He had already told me good-bye.

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————————————————————————————————————–

So folks. That`s where I`ve been this summer. Grieving, moving, and in general not feeling very funny. However, looking back, there is humor in it all and I will start to share what has been amusing in the next week or so. A few close outs on Japan and then I will officially close out that chapter and open the new one on Canada. Chit chat soon!

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“You Know You`re In Japan When….”

It`s time for another captivating installment of our continuing series. We switch our attention to practices less commonly discussed in the journalling done on the plane ride home, however, that doesn`t mean it isn`t exciting.

Today`s riveting cultural tidbit?

“You know you`re in Japan when you stare at construction workers.” Perhaps openly goggle might be a better description.

The reasons are obvious. Just like women in the US who walk by a crowded construction site to find themselves the center of attention, these guys too are tired of the catcalls, stares, and overt gestures of affection. But women like me continue anyway in appreciation. So let`s continue.

Obviously, there are few pictures on this subject. TokyoBling introduced me to the value of a “Widowmaker”- a very long lens with a high resolution- of which I do not own. The subjects of this post did not readily agree to having their photos taken therefore I had to jump out, Ninja like, in order to provide you with the important evidence to my claims. This was further complicated by the mandatory enabled shutter noise on the IPhone in Japan alerting all potential stalkees of your intent. (More on that later)

These guys are style makers thus drawing attention to themselves. Wearing a particular pant called “whisker pants,” these wide legged issues swish the sides of the buildings to which they are attached letting them know that they are in fact still attached. Like a cat`s whiskers,the pants alert them to their position relative to the building. When the pants lose contact to the building they are in danger of falling.

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Hold still- I`m trying to get a picture.

Taken from my hidden perch safely inside the Tokyo American Club Gym, these fellows started every morning at 8:00 AM sharp.

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Taking a look around the gym, and then letting the eyes wander down to the guys as they moved in to some Tai Chi….

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It is a different picture….

had me debating the merits of the gym workout. The guys admired spied upon  seen from my hidden look out were definitely better at yoga than anyone I could see in my immediate vicinity. No matter how hard I stared, I never managed to burn their shirts off with my blistering stare.

Just another reason to visit Japan.

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You Know You`re In Japan When…..

Since I`ve been the unblogger for the last several weeks, let me remind you where we left off. The series, “You Know You`re in Japan when…..” I haven`t forgotten or run out of fodder. More on that later.

Without further adieu let`s get to it.

Many of you may recall a few Olympics being hosted by Japan. The downhill mogul course in Nagano taught me the value of reading- and understanding- the course map. Attaching the snowboard to my butt and bouncing down left me with a permanent fear of moguls and a better understanding of just how long an Olympic Course has to be.

Some of you may know that Japan is pursuing the Olympics for a three peat in 2020.

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What you may not know is that Japan has also petitioned the Olympic Committee for the addition of a new sport. Something that Japanese people have mastered practicing over  thousands of years. Tokyo government officials are already planning the victory parade through Ginza in celebration of a gold, silver and bronze.

In what? Anyone having visited Tokyo or having had the misfortune of sitting next to a Japanese man on a 14 hour flight will recognize immediately the champions of this proposed sport.

A previously unheard of sport-Napping.

“You know you`re in Japan when napping is an Olympic Sport.”

But what makes a champion napper? Several key elements for judging are currently being batted around.

One key – but basic- skill is demonstrated by these contenders. The ability to nap without a surface on which to rest their head. The foreigner makes a good show, however, has been disqualified for using the window.

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I`m so pleased with this picture. As I was the only one not napping, I was able to take this shot of the men on my train napping- and one on the train next to us during a stop.

The girl below also loses points for resting her head, however, her open mouth indicates an ability to obtain REM. This off sets points for using a resting surface.

photo(60)In this shot, both participants get points for being comfortable sleeping on a stranger. In fact, most champion nappers are comfortable both being napped on or with napping on others.

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The gentleman in the trench coat demonstrates a technique criticized when employed on airplanes. The ability to freeze one`s head in an upright position until an internal gong seemingly wakes them at some pre-planned exact moment. People who`ve endured the 12-14 hour flight to Japan usually don`t complain about the length of the flight. The most common complaint is about the Japanese men seated on the aisle who once in this position don`t move again until the plane pulls in to the jetway. Also problematic for airport staff as it causes all those seated in an aisle or middle to stampede the bathrooms upon arrival. No one wants to wait in line once there so much elbowing and biting occurs along the way.

photo(63)And finally, champions come in all ages. This young boy takes home the gold.

photoNapping while half standing as your parents and siblings load up the stroller outside proves this kid is a force with which to be reckoned. Although he is utilizing a resting surface, he has learned the art previously seen only with horses- an ability to lock the knees thus preventing a fall while sleeping.

I was unable to master the sport of napping for fear that my purse would be stolen or that I would miss my stop. These are not considerations for champions.

I look forward to hearing of the winners in this category but I don`t want to watch it.

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You Know You`re In Japan When….

For those of you just tuning in, last post started the series, “You Know You`re In Japan When….” Welcome to this week`s photo flipping, page turning episode entitled:

“You know you`re in Japan when you start taking pictures of your food.”

There are several surprising reasons why one would take pictures of food.

1) When faced with the option of getting the special, make sure you know what it is, otherwise something extremely special will show up. In Japan it is considered rude to laugh at the waiter when he drops a tuna skeleton on the table.

Rather than picking it up and gnawing on the bones to get that juicy “next to the bone meat,” you scrape a spoon along the sides.

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2) Often too much information regarding ingredients comes along with the item. I`m not  sure what “Fasty Placenta” is, but in general, I`d  prefer not getting bogged down in the  active ingredients listing.

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3) The portion sizes leave one feeling like chipping off a chunk of the table to finish off the meal.

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4) When “Cod Sperm” and “Gizzard Shad” are listed elsewhere on the menu as available items, it`s best not to ask when a complimentary delight of unknown origin shows up.

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5) While you evaluate your food`s taste, it devises an escape route.

20130521-174138.jpgDSCN14496) It can kill you.

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Puffer fish

7) Is it decoration or food? Sometimes it`s difficult to tell. Hint: if it`s on a plate, it`s edible.

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I prefer my wheat cooked.

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Deceptively cute. We force fed  let Offspring #1 eat it.

8) Things that should be served with Ranch Dressing, sugar or butter are served au naturel. And people buy it. And people eat it. And like it. Astonishing. And the reason the Japanese are skinny while the rest of us aren`t.

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Yam anyone?

20130521-171322.jpg9) Pizza comes with squid and corn. (I can see your Head shaking and hand ringing) Try sneaking this past the picky toddler.

20130521-171228.jpg10) It`s always colorful.

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11) Be careful with the snacks. They bite back.

20130521-175725.jpgHarm was done to all the food pictured in this post. We ate every last bite.

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