Today we went to the pool (a decent indoor deal that’s part of a hotel-cum-hot-spring-resort-cum-vegetable-market-cum-conservatory—a whole bunch of different attractions bundled together. It seems to be an odd admixture of destinations, but it’s nicely put together, clean, well maintained, well designed, and so on. I thought the pool would be really crowded on a Sunday, but it was only somewhat crowded, and not unnavigable, as I had feared.

Although there are no plastic thingamajigs dividing the pool into lanes (and thus no actual lanes), it is possible to do lengths/laps, but only on a weekday, when there would be few people. Today the pool was just full of people frolicking, playing with their kids, and walking back and forth in the water (a popular exercise in Japanese pools).

Mom’s got her own car now, a brand-new Honda Life (yes, she has a life), so she’s doing a lot of driving on her own now. Preparing to go to the pool, we came down the steps and unlocked mom’s car. The kids, however, began to fight over who would get to sit behind Daddy. As mommy was driving, Mickey wanted to sit behind dad, who was to plop himself down in the passenger seat. Milo, however, also wanted to sit behind dad, so he was unhappy with Mickey being strapped in behind me. An idea then came to Milo, which he repeated over and over: “Daddy drive! Daddy drive!” However, since mom was driving, this was not going to happen. Milo then calmed down a bit and then I told him that I would rest my (right) hand on his leg, which he gladly accepted and further calmed down. So off we went.

These days life has a lot of demands, and I find I can have a lot more peace if I just keep things simple. I try to limit life’s requirements to work, family, exercise, and managing our finances. When I’m at work (between classes and not on a gym day), I often set up my laptop and scanner. I have an old laptop that still works OK (although very slowly) and I leave me scanner at work, and I use my spare time to scan old family photos and upload them to my server. For example, I’ve recently scanned my kingergarten-Grade 3 photos. Eventually, I hope to have as many photos of my and Shiho’s childhood online as possible. Saving money is paramount now if we’re going to be able to afford a move back to Canada and build up a financial cushion that will allow me to survive the first few months without a job, if necessary. We were going to go back to Canada during my nine- or ten-day vacation this summer, but the airfares are really looking exorbitant (probably around $2,000 each for four people) and if I spend money like that there’s just no way I can save it up. The wife is home now with groceries so I’ll help her unpack. Later.

Lots to blog about, as usual, but not much time (really, these days) to write. I’ve been paying through the nose for a lot of things lately. Like:

• about $2,500 to secure the contract for our new apartment (price includes damage deposit, first month’s rent, insurance and other fees)
• about $900 to pay for additional repairs required for our old apartment (kids tore up the place good)

And on it goes.

I’ve been thinking, lately, about how expats get dinged. We get fleeced by fees of all different colors. Here’s a sampling:

• exchange rate fee (currently 2.5%?) incurred whenever I use my Canadian-dollar credit card abroad
• wire transfer fees whenever I send money from my Japanese bank account to my Canadian account (they get you both ways, sending and receiving—but, like a friend of mine recently quipped, “Why does the receiving bank charge you to receive a deposit?”), along with the profit the sending bank makes on the money exchange itself

Anyway, too many darn fees these days. As for the kids, they are doing well, and when they’re with me they are able to say and understand quite a few things in English. Lots to say about the kids, but it will have to wait for later. OK, just one thing, then. When I take a bath with the family, Mickey likes to get out first with Shiho and Milo likes to stay with me to the end (I also need to warm up in the water for a while as I can’t fit in the tub with the wife and the kids and the wife gets cold really easily). When I started to towel Milo off the other day, he said, “Baby cold,” which I thought was really funny. Before, he might have just said, “Cold” or “Milo cold,” but he knows I like to think of him as a baby, so he made this interesting connection. After the bath, I often pick him up and cradle him, naked, in my arms as we go to the bedroom to get dressed. At those times, he often says, “Baby” too.

I have to write about my adoptive father, Robbie. Robbie passed away on Friday, May 23, 2008, at a hospital in Vancouver, Canada. He was holding my mom’s hand when he passed away, which was nice. At least he didn’t have to go alone, my mom said. Robbie had been sick for several months prior, and his condition began to worsen as the year 2008 progressed. The cancer in his esophagus was eliminated, but his various treatments, unbeknown to doctors until too late, had created a hole in his esophagus. Some of the food and drink that he consumed passed through this hole into his body cavity, creating an infection. Shortly before his death, doctors also found a blood clot in his heart. Robbie also suffered from a degenerative spinal disease (he was not able to walk very far) and a type of slow-acting leukemia. So in short, he had many health problems. Robbie’s life, like everybody’s life, had its ups and downs. He suffered from a lot of pain towards his end, which was sad. But all in all I think he lived a fairly complete and fulfulling life, and a fairly long one, too (he was 81). I am happy, too, that before he passed he was able to see the publication of his book, even if it did not sell well. Rest in peace, Robbie. My thoughts will often be with you. Love, Max.

What I read surprised me. I mean, I am familiar with most of the principles I read. But it’s so easy to forget these essential principles and stray from the path. Meaning, it’s easy for one to get sucked up into the vortex of being so concerned for one’s own happiness.

On this page, I found the following excerpt quite provocative:

Everyone thinks happiness is to be found in objects and experiences. Everyone thinks, “If I could only attain certain objects, if I could only possess them, if I could experience them, I will get happiness.” In spite of countless disappointments and disillusionments, man never learns. There is not an iota of happiness in earthly objects. No object is perfect. They do not have in them the power or ability to give you lasting happiness or joy because they are finite and they are imperfect. Otherwise, they must be able to give a homogeneous state of happiness to all beings at all times under all conditions. But what do you actually see?

If you like milk and you take a glass full of sweetened milk flavored with spices, the first glass may give you satisfaction. And if you are pressed upon to take another glass, the second glass may give satisfaction, but it is not the same degree of happiness or pleasure as was the first glass. And if your stomach is already full with two glasses of milk, if you try to take a third glass of milk, it becomes unpleasant, it becomes undesirable. And if it is forced upon you, a fourth glass of milk produces nausea and you will have to throw it up. Where then is real happiness?

At this stage in my life, I am a fairly consistent adherent to the notion that material objects don’t bring happiness. Here’s my ranking, in order of importance, of the things that matter in this world.

1. Family, friends, other people
2. Nature / The environment
3. Money and material stuff

So while in my day to day life over the past several years, I’ve kept on repeating to myself how my happiness doesn’t depend on whether I drive a shiny, new Porsche or a beat-up old Honda—despite this accomplishment of mine, I’ve somehow forgotten how the pursuit of hedonism is no less a chimera.

I’ve been dissatisfied with my sex life of late—there hasn’t really been much of one. But I’ve been a fool to have thoughts along the lines of, “If I get divorced, I could have all the nasty sex I wanted and I’d be happier for it.”

This page’s tone was a little overly religious for me, but I liked this excerpt a lot:

The second secret weapon [for being content when circumstances make us feel miserable] is to turn our obsession to satisfy ourselves into love for others. Rather than focus on others, too many Christians have bought into the cultural value of individualism. We think personal independence is so great that we no longer recognize the beauty and blessing of shared life. But Christianity is concerned with interdependence. God doesn’t tell us to live for our own convenience. One reason he puts us in marriages is to help us find real satisfaction and real joy in serving others. Marriage is the first place where we get to live out God’s many commands for serving, accepting, encouraging, forgiving and submitting to one another.

OK, if you can cut through the (as I see it, unnecessary) references to God, there’s an excellent point being made here: people are too intent on trying to make themselves happy by finding ways to please themselves. I will agree that greater happiness is to be found by thinking less of oneself and thinking more of how to make life better for other people.

Finally, this page cited some interesting research: when you’re unhappily married, there’s no evidence that divorce will make you happier.

I have to learn to live less for myself and my own petty concerns and more for others. I find that when I have a lot of anxiety (what if I get sick? what if I die?), I just try to tell myself, “So what? We all die someday, the world will go on without us. Just try to do your personal best every day, and that’s all you can do.” Even as I type these words, a baby is being abused, a woman is being raped, somebody has lost their home. I’m getting pretty fucking tired of my selfishness. Which reminds me, a cousin of mine in New York had a stroke a couple of months ago and I haven’t even written her yet. Part of the delay is fear and anxiety (what should I say?) but the other part is just pure selfishness and excessive self-involvement.

Check out Live 365 Internet Radio. A few ads, but I don’t mind them. I’ve only listened to two stations so far, and they’re both fantastic. One (Radio Dismuke) is American music from 1925-1935 and the other (Basement Tapes Live) is Underground Hip-Hop, which I’ve been wanting to learn about for a long time. This link shows you the incredible number of genres, each with their attendant station or stations, available on Live 365.

Go ahead, give it a go. I, for one, am not turning back. This is just the thing I needed to push ahead with my lifelong goal of broadening my musical tastes, exposure, and experience. Rock on.

Omelet Ingredients:

• two large eggs
• one slice of processed cheddar cheese
• five strips of half bacon (half bacon means half the length of regular bacon)
• butter
• one tomato
• pepper and salt

Sautéed Spinach Ingredients:

• olive oil
• pepper and salt
• spinach
• mashed garlic

I made the sautéed spinach according to this recipe. It turned out really well. The thing is, I used a lot of garlic—or did I?—anyway, I used a big heaping tablespoon of mashed garlic. The garlic has given me tremendous gas. Unbelievable in noise, intensity, and smell. It smells just like garlic, dammit. No wet farts, thank the gods, just straight blasts of air. Is it only me who gets gas from garlic? Not very work-friendly, to say the least.

The omelet turned out really well. I find using butter with a well-seasoned pan is the way to go. Those non-stick pans are overrated. Even with the expensive ones, the coating just does not last. From now on, I’m just sticking with a little oil or butter and a well-seasoned iron pan. I wish you could buy that cooking oil spray here. Do they carry one for olive oil back home?

With the omelet, I use a fork to beat two eggs, salt, and pepper in a bowl. I add the mixture to a warmed-up, buttered-up pan, and then cook on low to medium-low heat. I then tear up the sliced cheese into small pieces and place the cheese on one side, and after that the (cooked) bacon and tomatoes. When the time is right, fold over and voila!

I found a great new way (for me) to cook bacon. Simply place a sheet of paper towel on a microwaveable plate, then lay the bacon slices on that sheet, then cover the bacon with another sheet of paper towel, tamping down on the paper towel to make sure the bacon is stuck fast. Then nuke for three minutes (with my microwave), and voila, tasty, crispy, very crispy bacon. No fuss, no muss. And a lot of the fat is drawn away by the paper towels. You do have to be careful of the occasional shred of paper towel sticking to the bacon, but otherwise, it’s the method I’m going with from now on. Love that crispy bacon!

So maybe there is a silver lining to me spending the last four-and-a-half months mostly alone: I’ve really gotten into cooking again, and I’ve gotten a lot better at it. There’s no turning back.

Last night I made some yummy chicken. Just slice chicken breast into smallish pieces, cook in a bit of canola oil at medium-low heat, and then add mashed garlic, salt and pepper towards the end. Ya gotta love cooking!

After my university class (10:30-12:00), I ate a banana and took some supplements (most notably tribulus terrestris, green tea extract, and chromium) and headed straight for the car, where I changed, outside, meaning the occasional passerby would have been able to catch me in my boxers or wifebeater.

Then I walked over to the track, and here’s what followed:

1. Five or six 400m laps around the track.
2. Five minutes or so of walking alternating with sprinting.
3. Several sets of barbell deadlifts.
4. Several sets of barbell bench presses.
5. Several sets of seated barbell military presses.
6. Several sets of upright rows with my fingers grasping a heavy plate.
7. Several sets of back extensions.

During my workout, I drank a mixture of 1000mg vitamin C, creatine powder (Universal Nutrition), and 15,000mg BCAAs. After I got home, I had a protein shake. While that was in me, I cooked a steak and potatoes in olive oil. I ate that food and also half a chocolate bar and half a salad.

Soon afterwards, I went to work for my usual class and (as usual) felt sleepy. But this time was different. I think I was so overcome with endorphins, so high from the exercise, that I just wasn’t performing well. It was a struggle to move properly, to sit or stand with good posture. It was a struggle to speak properly, to use proper grammar and to speak clearly without mumbling. There is a warm feeling of peace and well-being flowing throughout my body.

Basically, I think I was semi-stoned from the exercise. I’m still high on it, hours later, as I write this. What a high. What a feeling of intoxication. This is the best. Absolutely flat out, hands down, beats any drug-induced high.

Time to cook me famous meat sauce again.

Life. You gotta love it.

1. Chopped up an onion and fried in some extra virgin olive oil.
2. When the onion was cooked, added a can of stewed tomatoes, and stirred and cooked for a while.
3. Added ground beef.
4. Added lotsa garlic (in this case it was mashed, and [heaven forbid?] from China—really cheap but tasty)
5. Added a pouch of premade spaghetti sauce (this stuff was made of tomatoes, meat, and mushrooms, and other things).
6. The cooking/simmering time for the whole thing was at least two hours. I figure the more simmering the better.
7. I then took a frying pan, poured in some more olive oil, added some spaghetti sauce and some cooked spaghetti, heated the whole lot together, and served on a plate sprinkled with lotsa pregrated Parmesan cheese.

The result was pure heaven, and some mighty unholy gas for a day or two (several meals of the stuff). Was it all that garlic? Anyway, I will make some more sauce tomorrow, I think.

Worried about eating canned food past the expiry date? Sometimes, I think the expiry date can be a good guide. I remember opening a can of Campbell’s mushroom soup that was only several months or so past the obsolescence date, but Shiho and I noticed something was awry with the texture and consistency, so we chucked it. But tonight I downed a very salty can of Campbell’s chicken noodle, and I’m still alive even though the vittles expired in February of this year. I found this link about expiration dates to be both interesting and useful.

Today I finally shaved my head—I gave myself a crew cut, with my wife just doing part of the back, making sure it looked straight—and also shaved off my four-day beard. Damn that felt good. I just don’t like having much hair on my head—only a little up top, and none on my face.

I was listening to a live version of Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “That’s the Way of the World,” and I heard the lead singer ask everybody in the house to “get on up off [their] feet.” I was wondering how I would ever be able to explain to my students (nonnative speakers) this oddball characteristic of English: how in heck can you have three different prepositions in a row in a single phrase? Privately, I realize that while perhaps not entirely grammatical, such a usage is perfectly acceptable to me as a native speaker, and something you might come across from time to time.

While we’re on the topic of musicians, I recently came across a Ray Charles greatest blues hits album. This is truly magical stuff. Me not having known much about Ray Charles, I can admit to having been embarrassed when I opened the jacket cover and read the well-written biography. The writer was dead on when he mourned the fact that most young people only know Ray Charles as this greying old dude singing “Uh-huh!” on a Pepsi commerical. Yes, I am ashamed to admit, that was all I knew about Ray Charles before picking up that album, but now I’m much more enlightened. This guy is a true genius. Check out these lines from a song called “Blackjack”:

I sat there with two tens;
I thought I’d have some fun.
The dealer hit sixteen with a five;
Just enough to make twenty-one.
Hey hey hey, yeah yeah;
How unlucky can one man be?

Well, of course, you gotta listen to it.

Part of my purpose in life in recent years has been to expand my musical tastes. This is both necessary (I easily get bored of the same music played over and over) and desirable (more knowledge about art generally being a good thing). Here are a few artists that I formerly knew very little or nothing about, but who I am now becoming familiar with: Sly and the Family Stone; Bobby Womack; Luther Vandross; plus a slew of Japanese singers/artists whose names I don’t know and whose lyrics I can’t for the most part decipher, but nevertheless find myself moved by their melodies.

You know, in all the reading I’ve done since I was a kid, I remember reading once or twice about a famous person who didn’t like music. And I think one of my students didn’t like music either. How could anyone not like music? Is such a thing possible?

Tonight we had a late bath time with the kids, about 9:00 pm. I came in the bathroom, and Mom was outside soaping up Mickey. I told her to get back in the bath with Milo and warm herself up (women always being cold), while I washed the kids one-by-one.  I thus began on Mickey, who was already outside, but he only wanted to be washed by Mom. We ignored his complaints, saying this was the way things had to be, but it was interesting to know that he didn’t seem really serious about having to be washed by me, as he wasn’t physically struggling. Anyway, finally I put him back in the bath. But that didn’t stop his moaning. He then whined, in Japanese, that he had wanted to get back in the tub himself. So he got back out and then got back in again. Like I said, sometimes you just can’t win. Mickey acts similarly in other situations as well. For example, he’s usually pretty grumpy when he gets up in the morning or after an afternoon nap, and at that time he doesn’t want to interact with anyone except Mommy. I will often proffer his thirsty self a glass of juice or tea, but he will invariably refuse it because it wasn’t made by, or, as is more likely the case, served by Mommy.

Well, Mickey’s not always like this. We had quite a good time playing today, and he likes to be close to me, snuggling with me, hugging me, and sitting on my lap. Today at the supermarket Mickey and Milo each clambered into their own kiddy cart (a grocery cart that looks like a car or truck which kids can sit inside) and they only wanted to be pushed by Daddy.

Life as a dad is fun.

Damn, I can cook. Tonight I cooked up a steak that was marinaded for a day in a sauce made of sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, brown sugar, salt, and pepper. Plus I served myself up some home cut fries fried in canola oil. Been cooking a lot of my own meals lately. Compared to eating out, I still spend a lot of money when eating at home, but I eat better (qualitatively) than if I were to eat out.

If you haven’t seen The Joy Luck Club, it’s a wonderful drama. Truly well done all around. I had a real cry for the first time in years, years. Watching the movie brings me back to my current favorite topic, yes, the cycle of life. Listening to the plaintive cry of a baby in the movie, I was inspired to watch some old videos of my babies, back in 2005 when they were wee little ones. Jeez, it just made my heart flutter. Nothing compares to being a parent and having little ones to love (little ones who are fast becoming bigger ones). I noticed in one video in particular, you can see Shiho’s paternal grandmother, who is fairly mobile in the video, playing with the babies and all. But last year she had a stroke and just isn’t very well now.

Too damn sad. I told a bunch girls in my university English class the other day (paraphrasing):

You know, life is so sad. What does it all mean? You don’t really understand yet, because you’re not even 20 years old. But look at me, I’m already 34 and I have grey hair, and I can’t believe it. How has so much time passed? Look at you. Now you are so beautiful, so young. And what will you look like in 60 years?! What are you going to look like in 60 years? You’ll all be old, ugly, and wrinkled. Sad, isn’t it?

Like I said, at the risk of repeating myself: so damn sad.

Well, it’s 11:33 pm and I’m still up. Even though I have to be up at about 5:45 am tomorrow to get ready for work. Early morning class at Honda R&D. Plus I want to work out tomorrow. I have to get up bright and early, but I still haven’t had a shower, made my bed, or brushed my teeth. Time sure is a thief.