The D'ior Touch: November 1, 2014 
Note: For some reason, Google translate keeps messing with the format so pardon the odd capitalization throughout.

So the second best thing that happened to me since I arrived, (first one being a Starbucks two very short blocks away) is that I got my Netflix account to work!​  Earlier in the week when I tried accessing it, I had received an unfriendly and perfunctory notice that "Netflix is not available in your country" and though I tried a number of fixes and went researching it on line, nothing seemed to work.  

However, this morning, fueled with a new can-do attitude after yesterday's triumphant excursion, I thought I'd try it again to see if Netflix Corporate may have had decided to let me watch my programs, just this one time.  And voila!  It's working.  I'd like to take some credit for this miracle but I'm too happy to have "Last Tango in Halifax"  back up to take bows.  Besides, hubris is not the way of the Samurai.  

There is a large TV lurking in the corner, surrounded by massive (for the scale of the studio) speakers and boxes upon boxes of old 33 1/3 LP's, (those are old vinyl records for the unknowing and uninformed) and two turntables, all of which is as much of a comfort to me as Japanese TV, so you see my problem here regarding evening hour entertainment.  The whole audiophile system occupies an unreasonable amount of space [in my opinion] and I like to think of it as the point which the newlyweds bicker over.  On the other hand, there are three large plants in pots squeezed into improbable spaces and none of them seem to have much of a purpose.  Here's what I figure:  HIS record collection:  HER plants.  Seems reasonable, except I don't have to water his records.

On to other things in no particular order.

1.  I don't know what the Japanese put in their soft spread margarine boxes, but if I could read the label, I'm guessing after hydrogenated vegetable oil, the next ingredient would be salt, followed closely with sugar.  Whatever it is, I'm loving it.  You may recall I bought a box of what I hoped was something I could cook with--butter does not seem to be a popular or accessible item unless it was that "Hotel Margarine" I passed on--so I've been using this soft spread margarine on my toast and I have to say, my little taste buds are much  delighted and surprised.  If this product exists in the USA, I don't want to know.

2.  On Thursday night, I attended an event at an English Pub one metro stop south of Shibuya.  It was an international group that I joined up with--thank you, EK, for the lead--and by chance they were having a mixer at "What the Dickens" pub that very night.  I decided that if I could go and find the pub in the daytime, then I'd come back and RSVP that I was coming.  So I did.  

Finding the pub was another series of throwing myself at the mercy of strangers walking by but all of them tried their best to help me.  Finally, two construction workers walked around the neighborhood with me and together we found the building.  One of the problems is that in Japan, so many businesses are located above ground level and there is insufficient signage announcing their whereabouts.  In the US, this place would have had a neon blinking sign at best or at least a sandwich board or Coca-cola sponsored back lit billboard.  I walked past the building no less than half a dozen times before one of the guys pointed to a sign about 5" x 7" stacked on top of a number of other business signs that occupied the same building.  This was in a back alley, off the main street so I was very proud of myself for at least getting close to it.  That's not to say I didn't slip into a nearby Starbucks and try to figure out where the hell I was and how close I was to the pub.  But I am beginning to allow myself to be lost and disoriented.   Measuring success has all sorts of companions.

I returned to the pub later that night and spent  two very enjoyable hours talking to a number of expats from all over the world.  I realize what a boring life I live, but nevertheless, I felt I held forth in banter.  One guy I met is a Brit who lives in Barcelona and owns a Japanese restaurant there.  He's in Tokyo for a few days checking on some other business--I find it's best not to ask too many questions--and he was deliriously funny and amusing.  He's in his late 40's I should think and has that wry British humor I adore.  Plus, he's just full of stories and fun. When I told him I had visited Barcelona a few years back, the first thing he asked me was, "Did you get robbed?"  I said that my friend did and I asked him if he had.  He said, "Yes, many times."  Then went on to explain that the Barcelona police have so many incidents of robbery that they have  lowered the arrest level to anything over $500, which essentially allows for all of the petty thievery to go on unabated.  He said it's worse than ever.  So much for a return to Barcelona, even with the promise of a free meal at a Japanese restaurant.  One surprise at this event was that most of the people there were Japanese.  Still not sure how that worked, but I am ashamed to admit that I went right for the Americans.  We are easy to pick out, even over the Brits.  The Americans talk louder, have good teeth and wear team jerseys.  Fish in a barrel. And we tend to be tall.  

I finally had to leave when it got so loud and crowded that I could barely move around, much less hear what anyone was saying.  Also, you can smoke in this bar and even though there were only a few people smoking, the air was awful.  I had forgotten how bad your clothes can smell after an evening marinating in smoke.  

4.  Yesterday I returned to the Ginza area where I had been two days before.  This time I wanted to visit the Sony building, their national headquarters, since the guidebook was touting its many features,  including a showroom and media room, a gift floor, etc.  I need to remind myself that guidebooks are written primarily by men, which clouds their judgement.  I suppose there were people there who were thrilled to see the latest gadgetry--but the denizens were primarily excited young white boys wearing the identity of an international organization on their t-shirts and a few beleaguered looking Japanese men staring whistfully at camera lenses.  Don't get me wrong.  This is a building that has seven stories, each floor with an area opened to the public for various purposes, not all of which I could sort out.  I did enjoy a trailer of a video to be released soon by L'Arc-en-Ciel, a Japanese rock band whose music I rather liked.  The digital photography of their concert at Tokyo Stadium in August drew 180,000 people over two days.  The lighting and production alone were worth the time spent watching it.  

There was also the promise of a "Kiss Anniversary" room, where I assumed I would see a video of a Kiss concert in equally high quality digital format.  Not so.  The Kiss Anniversary room is a jewelry showroom featuring wedding rings, diamond jewelry and Hello Kitty necklaces embedded with diamonds and other precious gems.  I couldn't help but imagine that at the end of a day of work, whatever jewelry artists are forced to spend their talents making Hello Kitty jewelry go home and torture their animals.  ADVICE:  Skip the Sony Building.  But the first floor has free wi-fi!  A public utility sorely lacking in the city except at Starbucks and other arcane places of which I am unfamiliar.

5.  I wandered around a bit, finding my way over to the International Forum (a convention center), went looking for the yakatori (grilled chicken on a stick) vendors that were purportedly 

set up under the Train Tracks nearby (never found them), visited the Japanese Film Museum (cost seventy cents for senior citizens!) and watched some hilarious Old Japanese Films ,

ended up at an exhibit of D'ior which was undoubtedly the best stop of the day.  I am having to learn and then re-learn that it really isn't the destination, it's the journey--not an original thought but worthy reminder.  Finding highlights from guidebooks, while a confirming endeavor, never delivers the great satisfaction of an experience one discovers just by being in the right place at the right time.  (Full disclosure:  the exhibit was right next to the Ginza Apple store, where I was headed to steal their wi-fi.)  The D'ior exhibit on the first floor was a series of original works on mannequins from the House of D'ior accompanied by photographs of models wearing them.  Interspersed with the exhibits were videos of D'ior, story boards about his early life and designs and the designers who studied under him and today keep his vision intact.  The dresses on exhibit were spectacular, particularly because you could get really close to them and see the exquisite workmanship in each piece.  As a failed home ec teacher, especially around sewing, I was blown away by the artistry.  Some videos depicted footage of the artists at work in the Paris studio and models trying on the creations in half finished to fully finished fashions.  Just when I thought my eyeballs would bleed with appreciation, I came to an open stairway leading down and there below me were two  D'ior artists--one a dress maker showing off her handwork and the other a woman who hand finishes the gold wrap and bows on the perfume bottles.  It never occurred to me that such work was done by hand, but it more than explains the cost of his perfume.  

The Japanese love all things wrapped - presentation is very important -. So as this woman would finish up each bottle, she was given a warm round of applause I stayed and watched her for much longer than I had ever imagined that I could watch someone tie a ribbon on a bottle. Then I moved next to the dressmaker who was painstakingly demonstrating how to make hand-bound button holes and trying to get the young Japanese girls in front of her to take the needles and thread and try it on their own. A couple of them did, amid giggles and sighs. It was just lovely. Such craft and care. Each French demonstrator had a Japanese interpreter standing next to her and I loved hearing French go immediately to Japanese. A worthy stop, to be sure.

6. Promise this is the last entry. Sorry for going on and on...

As I was headed home and about two blocks away, I passed an event that appeared to be a school pep rally or outdoor celebration of some kind. So I wandered in off the street to find myself walking through a long, narrow row of food booths on either side attended by what looked like high school students with handmade cardboard signs advertising their food items. As I continued walking along trying to figure out what was going on, a very lovely young girl approached me and talking more rapidly than my old ears could . possible process, seemed to be asking me if I liked mango seems her booth was selling a beverage she was sure I would like, that it was only 2 yen ($ 2) I politely declined -. though now I wish I had said yes , it just was such a sudden thing and I was not thinking straight - .. and continued on there must have been 60+ booths, all of them selling little bites of all sorts of snacks and beverages In a very  un -Japanese like move, these kids were very enthusiastic in their pitches, trying to get me to buy whatever they were selling. There was cooking, grilling and deep frying. I did finally buy something that can best be described as a pancake filled with red bead paste and glutinous rice . It was made ​​in a shape of a fish and served in a wax paper bag, very hot. They hoped I liked it. I did, but it was still a strange mix of textures and tastes. 

I ended up at a performing stage, just in time to see the synchronized tennis ball juggling team finish its performance to the great approval of their fellow students. All this time, I saw no adults. I am the only grown up there but no one seemed to mind or ask me to leave. I settled in next to the stage, ready to be entertained. I think the next several acts were pairs of comedians from the student body. One kid came out with a back pack, did some shtick, then opened his bag, took out a bottle of something, inhaled it, counted to three and began to talk in what was obviously a helium induced voice Except that his voice was so low to begin with -. his body suggested massive hormone activity - that even the deep gulps of helium failed to transform his voice for much more than a syllable or two. It was all very funny but clearly, drug abuse as a performance .... scandal. 

The evening ended with jump rope performances by teams of boys and girls. The. girls were so much better than the boys When they missed their steps - which they did often -... they would just laugh and keep moving So wonderful to see A few older people did eventually wander in and sat down As I looked around, I was trying to imagine this sort of festival in an urban school in San Francisco. Guns and knives would have eventually taken over, followed by arrests and brick throwing.

Then I went home. That was my day.  

It's Saturday morning here - .. Halloween is over It's not the big deal here it is back in the USA, but there were plenty of jack o lantern candies and confections in the metro shops I'm off to the farmer's market up the street and then who Knows what the Day Will Bring. Do Check   FaceBook  page for photos.