Mar. 19, 2007 - 21:50 MDT

CLUMSY CLOG

Not sure just what I did, but shot an entry down in flames I guess. It just plain vanished between keystrokes.

So, well, I'm not into trying to reconstruct a rant at this time of night.

So perhaps I can somewhat relive a memory or two.

I was a tech rep for my company and was at a base in Atsugi, Japan (Where the Kamikaze were trained) for some time. I made friends with a Navy Parachute Rigger who was stationed on the base and married to a Japanese national.

I was trying to learn as much as I could about the country and this was a godsend to me.

He had weekends off and he and his mate would take me along on their excursions.

One such was a trip where we went to an island I think was called O Shima where we ate much sea food and enjoyed the scenery. Back on land we decided to spend the night at Atami, in a Ryokan (Japanese hotel).

I was the outlander "round eye" as was my friend, but his mate made way for us through the formalities.

It was a nice place, well built and furnished. We were shown to a suite and after getting comfortable sat through a tea ceremony, which was elaborate, strictly formal to the max and done "by the book" more or less.

After that I wanted to go to the "ofuro" which I remember is the name for a Japanese bath. So I changed into a Kimono (supplied by the hotel) and went down in the elevator to the "ofuru," determined to do as the Romans do. The bath was in a grotto more or less, with greenery growing from pockets in the walls and some from the overhead too. Beautiful surroundings.

There was an area almost as big as the pool itself that was tiled, had spigots, buckets and soft brushes as well as sponges and soap. A short stool beside each set of spigots. I saw folks scrubbing up, so I did too, in my western way, wondering why I had to get clean before I bathed, but I went with the flow.

I got squeaky clean and went to the pool as others did. I got in and began to boil, a man noticing my plight, pointed to a spot in the pool and I proceeded to go there. My first lesson in Japanese bathing, there one seemed to have to choose at which rate to be cooked. But the spot pointed out to me was bearable. In truth it was quite relaxing and novel, I enjoyed it very much.

After soaking my fill, I dried off, put on my kimono and went up to the suite. There was chilled Kirin beer by the big bottle, which was welcome and some of those little varieties of crackly crackers I saw much of over there, went well with the beer.

I learned things new to me. Real estate, at least at that time was sold by the tatami and tsubo. A tatami is the dimensions of a sleeping mat and a tsubo twice that. At that time only Japanese nationals could own property there, and my friend and his wife had a house in her name. She taught me niceties of behavior as well.

One thing, the next day the owner of the hotel took us to his prize place in the building, a room with a dias on which was a western style commode in all its splendor. Being used to using benjos in homes and so forth it struck me as a great novelty that the hotel should have such a thing. Too bad I hadn't known about it before.

On this weekend trip we went into the mountains to a lake I think the name of it was Hakone, such a place of beauty, peace and quiet.

We also went to a place where there was a giant Bhudda, big enough that one could get inside of it from the back side. Immense it was. The grounds had wooden buildings and there were wooden railings around too. Kamakuri, I think the name was.

In my spare time I would go off base and into the town on the backside of the base, which was pretty well "local" rather than westernized. I spent much time nosing around and just sight-seeing.

In my time there when out roaming around, I would be politely stopped and asked to converse with the young folk who were on the street. I think perhaps their English was better than mine, and I did enjoy asking questions of them and they seemed to enjoy asking me questions. I had some very pleasant times there in Japan amongst the people. They have a great amount of courtesy and innate dignity.

Just a short time in old times, not too bad for a guy that John Bailey would be tempted to call a CLUMSY CLOG . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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