Mags ROTHARford

Leading on from the last entry, I started to wonder whether I had ever actually shown you Mags ROTHARford or not.

Well, here she is in all her glory. I think she still looks good as new almost one year later. That's because I take care of her - almost every week I oil her up and put it in her...

air, that is.

Don't you just love the basket! How long would you give her on the streets of Dublin? More importantly, how long would you give "me" on her on the streets of Dublin?

Oh dear, the photo doesn't seem to be uploading, so you'll just have to live in suspense a bit longer.

P.S. Success at last! I've had Mags every which way this weekend! But I've finally got the darn photo uploading right-side-up. Mam and Dad, I hope it was worth the wait - slightly too great a build up, methinks.

人種差別 － jinshu sabetsu; racial discrimation

I am feeling extremely chillaxed today. This is probably due to the fact that the last two days have been public holidays and I am writing this in a cafe in Odaiba (previously mentioned as being one of my favourite places in the city).

However, feeling good today was far from a foregone conclusion. In fact, I would go as far as to say that yesterday was pretty much a stinker. It was one of those days where one thing after another conspired against me, but it culminated in me getting racially profiled by the police.

This has not happened to me in years, yet it can be a fairly common occurrence on the streets of Tokyo. Long story short; I was riding my bicycle at night in my neighbourhood (heading out to the shop to get Apple Cider Vinegar to be precise - how very ghetto of me - practically a drug deal!!!) when a police car tailed me for two blocks and then pulled me over ａｔ the traffic lights to get my ID and bicycle registration . I'm used to the drill, so of course I had all the documents and was able to respond to his questions in perfect Japanese (they weren't difficult). But there was hate in my eyes and ice in my voice all through the exchange. More so because he didn't ask word one of the Japanese woman on the bike beside me. To be sure, she had never had such a thing happen to her because she even asked the cop what exactly he was checking for. His answer - right to my face, mind - was, "foreigners sometimes steal bicycles".

It was a crappy ending to a crappy day， and it was one of those times when I realise that, no matter how　well I speak the language， no matter how deeply I absorb the culture, no matter how much I contribute to ｔｈｅ economy and the social life of the place, the very fact of who I am and what I look like will single me out to be different, other, worthy of only suspicion.

I know that this is nothing compared to innocent Muslims not being allowed to board planes, or black male drivers being pulled over for driving nice cars on the streets of L.A., but when it happens to you, it still kinda sucks.

And with my day's perspective on the whole thing, I also recognise that it an entirely healthy thing for me as an educated, white, English-speaking male to get a taste of a little bit of discrimination...but I still ended the day hoping for the big one to come and flatten the city (preferably when I'm away on business)!

Seeing quintuple

Hey Big Sis, I finally got a snap of that crazy big group of identical dogs that get professionally walked in my neighbourhood. Would you say they're pretty old, or is that whiteness around their faces a feature of their breed?

Here's a little camera phone pic of the Sumida River at the end of my road. I grabbed this jogging there the other night. Tokyo Tower is the electric blue thing in the middle and on either side is East Ginza and Tsukiji (home of the famous fish market). Whenever I see the night cruise ships all lit up like the one in the photo, I really wish I was on one taking the tour. At this stage, though, I'm so comfortable in my surroundings that I could probably give a passable tour myself.

Devolution of a Beard

Don't say I never give you anything; here for your viewing pleasure(?), a collection of some of my worst ever self portraits...

The Blue Man Group in Tokyo

I went to see the Blue Man Group's show here in Tokyo a couple of weekends ago. They've had a permanent theatre in the city for ages, but they're going to be moving on in November, so I wanted to catch them before they left.

My sister pointed out that, having just gotten back from the land of anyongs (Anyong!), going to see the Blue Man Group made my life into one big 'Arrested Development' tribute. I can think of worse vocations to have.

So, the show: well, I loved and hated it in equal measure. It's quirky, original and entertaining, with some great music (especially from their DIY instruments), but they are all about the involuntary audience participation; I sat there in quaking terror at being called up to the stage.

Oh, and another thing: at one stage in the show, the three Blue Men walk on the backs of the seats up through the theatre, posing to rock out to the music along the way. As a result, I can now say that I have had both Cirque-du-Soleil clown crotch AND Blue-Man-Group man crotch shaken in my face in the same year.

Quite and achievement, I think you'll agree.

Pusan - this is the last one, I swear!

At the risk of boring you all to tears, there are just two more little things I wanted to tell you about the holiday in Korea.

First of all, Dad, you have got to move to Pusan and open a cupcake shop: I bought these little guys at a speciality baker near the hotel and they cost like 4 euro! You've been way ahead of the trend on this one making cupcakes all these years, so it's about time you made a bit of money of it. Please note that they have Smarties on them, so my opinionated aunt can take a running jump.



The other thing was about the room service. You see I almost never order room service, but when I do I feel it's really rude to leave the dishes there to be collected without saying a word. So I always leave a little note. This time, I found out how to write 'Thank you' in Korean and then added 'It was delicious', or something in English. I went about my day and came back to the room, and, for the first time ever, I'd gotten a little Post-it from the staff in return. I thought it was charming.