Jitensha Adventure!

Some people search their entire lives for meaning in this bleak, cold world. Those people need to jitensha! Jitensha is a noun. Jitensha is a verb (I have decided). Jitensha is a way of life. I myself have recently experienced the joy of jitensha. You could even say that jitensha has prompted me to get back on the jitensha and jitensha my way back into your hearts through my blog. My blog about jitensha.

I work at four different schools within the same district. If you were to map them they would make a very distorted square, like a square that was dropped on its head as a baby.

There came the day last Friday when I was at my Elementary School and I realized I had left my portable hard drive – which has all of my resources (and blogs) – at my Thursday school. Oh noes! Despite the fact that I do this every other week, I was distressed. But my first period was free. Maybe I had time to go and get it? Unfortunately the other school was the farthest from the one I was now at. A dilemma of Pythagorean proportions!

Pythagorean Theorem: Where a plus b equals Son of a Bitch!

I told my Kyotou Sensei that I had forgotten my hard drive (“Ah, long cord” as she calls it) and asked her whether she thought I could get to this other school and back in one period. “Walking?” she said, making the little yellow pages symbol with her fingers. I nodded. Then a look of beatific calm came over her face. She spoke the word with a quiet strength that I had never heard before and probably never will again, “Jitensha!”

Now, at this time for all I knew, jitensha was Japanese for “no chance!” I did what I always do in these situations: nod and repeat. “Jitensha” I said sagely.

Then the school secretary got in on the act. Apparently jitensha is like Beetlejuice, you say it a certain number of times and something magical happens.

Jitensha!

He jumped out of his chair. “Jitensha!” and ushered me out of the staffroom. We entered the bichikusouko (or storeroom when I'm not showing off). And there it was. Jitensha.

It stood there like it didn’t give a fuck. It was facing the other way; Jitensha wouldn’t even look at me. Then the school Principal arrived with its battery. Remember, it’s this man’s job to run the entire school. I think he just wanted to touch the jitensha. This is the jitensha equivalent of taking a meeting with no pants on. I know some US Presidents used to do that sort of thing. This just made me respect jitensha even more.

As further proof that it takes a village to raise jitensha from its thrice-cursed hellbed of awesomeness, none of the three staff who had so far assisted me in my quest stuck around to explain how to actually use the thing. That job was left to the school’s teaching assistant. Bless her; she is just the nicest and smallest Japanese girl I have ever met. So she could not hope to fathom the relationship that was already forming between jitensha and myself. She got as far as, “Don’t press this button while you’re-” before I cut her off.

“I don’t have time for this,” I told her. “I have to ride.” I was going to ride this thing like a man: recklessly and without using the instructions.

And maybe some flying.

As I adeptly wobbled down the hallway, two columns of 6^th graders marched around the corner. “Get out of the way!” I bellowed, followed by “Jitensha!” Each column hit their respective wall. As I zoomed by, I could see the mixture of admiration and terror on the faces of the students. It was a look I recognized from my English classes. Before any of them had a chance to holler an encouraging “Jitensha!” back to me, I was out of the school gate and gone.

Now at this point you may be feeling like I really built this up to be more than it in actuality is. You might be thinking jitensha is just a bicycle with an electric motor. You’re wrong. That’s like saying Robocop is just a cop with an awesome helmet.

I have one (1) dance move. But it is beautiful and complex.

Robocop would blow your arm off for even suggesting that.

I fully expect the next technological leap forward to be half human/half jitensha cyborgs – like modern day centaurs. 
Let me put my case another way: Jitensha is the closest you will come to experiencing what it would be like to be drunk Superman.

Fuggin' Lois I seen the way she looksh at Jimmy...

Jitensha combines the rickety unease of a half-century-old bicycle with the relentless power of the motorcycle my legs wish to be when they’re sleeping. Me and my jitensha did that round trip in under 10 minutes, laughing like a maniac the entire way. Well… only I was laughing.  But the red LEDs on jitensha’s handlebars were flashing and winking like Knight Rider’s KITT, so I knew it was pleased.

WHAT IS THIS FEELING? COULD IT BE... I LOVE YOU TOO?

Bonus Fun Activity! Now go back through this blog and substitute the word ‘bicycle’ every time you see jitensha.　

To Think like a Cartoon Detective Volume 1: The Case of the Inexplicable Extra Undies

I love cartoon detectives. When I reached the age where I realized superhero was not a real job (I was 26) I shifted my dreams to becoming a cartoon detective. Pop culture would have me believe that Japan is littered with cartoon detectives, in addition to actual litter.

Japan's answer to Batman and Robin.

Japan's answer to The Hardy Boys. But umm... just the brunette one, obviously.

Japan's answer to... well,you probably wouldn't see this outside Japan.

Perhaps with their help I can achieve my destiny.

Cartoon Detectives Presents Volume 1: 

The Case of the Inexplicable Extra Undies.

Disclaimer: If you are of a weak constitution, afraid to face the realities of the life of a mystery detective, then read no further. Better to return to your safe world of Private Practice, cups of tea, Martha Stewart and romance novels. This world is not for you.

But if you are intrigued by the darkest motives of the human psyche then read on. Perhaps you will be the one to solve my latest case:

The Case of the Inexplicable Extra Undies!

The Time: 7:49 am, December 20^th.

The Place: Nagata Jinja Mae, Station. Disabled Mens Toilets.

The Case: Bizarre.

If you’re ever out and about in the great wide world of Japan and you want to poo in a way that doesn’t contain the equivalent leg exercise to scaling a mountain, then the handicapped toilet is your best bet. Let’s just take a moment to thank Japan for that constant boon to my self-esteem.

Anyway, I was in need of those particular facilities as my train arrived at the station. I made my way to the men’s toilets but – Shock! The handicapped stall was locked!

I went into the toilets proper to check if there were any other western toilets, but they were all scary Japanese toilets! Noooooo. Whatever would I do now?

Just then I heard the disabled toilet unlock and slide open. Sweet relief! I raced back there and was confronted by a bizarre sight.

Well… it’s probably best you see it for yourself.

I just... Why?!

Clearly some sort of crime had been committed.

The Clues: 1) Packaging strewn around the vicinity. (LL size. Good for you, buddy!

2) Motherfucking underpants under the baby change table!

The Facts: 1) Size LL indicates that the suspect is either a fully-grown man or a really fat boy. 2) There are numerous trash receptacles around Nagata station (albeit none especially earmarked for ‘old gruts’). That the perp did not take the time to stash their ill-worn undies in one of these indicates that they were either rushed or unconcerned about the likelihood of someone finding said undies.

Hmmmm. They appear to be undies. Horrific undies.

Theories: 1) The perp, having soiled himself, went to a store, purchased new underpants, entered the subway station and changed there. (Detective Notes: This seems unlikely, but then again so does this whole situation.)

2) The perp is a salaryman. He works so many hours that he finally realized the futility of even having a home. So instead, each day before resuming work he simply buys a fresh pair of undies, washes his face and armpits in the sink (Detective Notes: the hobo’s bath) and voila – he is fresh as a daisy. (Detective Notes: this seems absolutely plausible. Ichiban theory!)

3) The perpetrator has stolen a brand new pair of underpants, used the handicapped toilet to change into them and then abandoned the packaging and his old, disgusting underpants for the subway weasels to use in the construction of their winter home.

Detective Notes: Goddamn subway weasels.

Whichever one of my theories was correct, one thing was for certain; you can’t just go around leaving underpants wherever the hell you want! Only hot women can do that, even in Japan!

...

I considered pitting my considerable intellect against this clearly deranged madman. I envisioned tracking him to his secret underpants-filled headquarters (Detective Notes: Are there any abandoned underwear factories in the area?) and bringing him to justice.

Then I remembered I really needed to do a poo.

So I did that instead.

Diary of a Desperate Man

It’s the second day of school for the year. Time to change the world!

I’ve got a plan, of course.

My Plan.

Phase 1: Eat this croissant.

Phase 2: See what happens.

Okay, the plan’s coming along nicely. I’m proud to say that Phase 1 went off without a hitch. Now entering Phase 2.

Eighteen seconds later, I am detecting a problem with Phase 2: nothing is happening. In fact, what do you call it when you go past the point of nothing happening and into a negative world of extreme nothing happening? That just happened.

Everyone in third grade just up and left for a meeting, so that leaves about four people in the staff room. Clearly I will need to make my own excitement. And that’s going to require a revised plan.

My New Plan

Phase 1: Eat this croissant. CHECK!

Phase 2: Daydream about Slash (but not in a gay way).

Phase 3: Pester my colleague.

I’m going to see Slash in concert in a couple of months. It’s pretty exciting for me. After all, there are two things in this world that are really hard to do: play guitar like an angel on a rollercoaster and wear a top hat without people laughing at you. Slash does both at the same time. I think he may be the only one who can.

 

One of the Four Horsemen of Awesome. You can literally see the light of  heaven coming out of his top hat.

He’s touring with Alter Bridge’s Myles Kennedy on vocals. If Slash plays like an angel, then Kennedy sings like Jesus in the deleted scene from Jesus Christ Superstar where he wins the lottery.

3.8 miiiiiiiillion. Oohhhhhh yeeeeeeeaaaaahh!

Okay, that’s enough daydreaming about long-haired, leather pants-wearing men. You’ve gotta put a strict limit on that sort of thing. It’s a slippery slope. Remember to counteract it with a brief daydream about

All better!

Moving into Phase 3.

The other English teacher at my school (whose name is Tran) confounds my attempts to give her a nickname. Even though I lead off with the incredible “Transfat”, an ironclad keeper as far as I’m concerned, the name never stuck (and almost certainly got me struck off her birthday party list.)

But I must not be dissuaded! Quitters can’t change the world. Did Bugs Bunny just up and quit when the Monstars stole all the NBA Stars’ talent? Hell no, he went and got inspirational ultimate weapon Michael Jordan!

You don't believe you can fly?! You're a goddamn duck!

I need to dig deep for the Michael Jordan of nicknames.

And here it is. Undeniable Brilliance.

I presented El PresidenTran with four glorious options. Surely one would reach its spiny tentacles into the depths of her soul and take a firm hold – a Tranglehold, if you will – on her imagination.

Brilliance denied.

As expected, Tranquilizer resisted my nicknaming efforts once again, trying to divert my attention by pointing out how much better she is at Japanese than me. Only an amateur would be so easily distracted!

I'm getting that present though.

It’s now… 11:30. Jesus, is that all?! I need to add more to the plan.

My New Plan 2.0

Phase 1: Eat this croissant. CHECK!

Phase 2: Daydream about Slash. (+MYLES KENNEDY) DOUBLE CHECK!

Phase 3: Pester my colleague. CHECK!

Phase 4: Decorate my desk.

Phase 5: Find my mechanical pencil.

Phase 6: Go home.

Phase 4 begin! It probably seems like I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel for things to do here, but let’s consider that I have been working at this school for 5 months now and really I haven’t done much to personalize my space. To change the world you have to start in your own backyard, you know? One day scientists are going to study my desk for clues as to the origin of my brilliance. It has to subtly deliver a message about the type of man I am and the type of man I aspire to be.

And... Done!

That was easy.

On to Phase 5! 
I have lost my mechanical pencil. I only have one. It’s not on the same level as when I lost my external hard drive last year. That was meltdown material. This is more of a minor annoyance. Still, I need it for writing on stuff in pencil! Check my pencil case. Nope. Check my desk drawers. Hmmm, nope.

I bet that Trandit Tran stole it. I’ll ask her.

She says no. I still think she has it. Better check my desk again though.

Dammit, it’s definitely not in my desk.

Oh, wait! It’s in my pocket.

Sigh. Now I have to apologise to sTranpede. Might as well put it on the plan.

I should probably eat lunch too. I’ll do that first.

My New Plan 2.1

Phase 1: Eat this croissant. CHECK!

Phase 2: Daydream about Slash. (+MYLES KENNEDY) DOUBLE CHECK!

Phase 3: Pester my colleague. CHECK!

Phase 4: Decorate my desk. CHECK!

Phase 5: Find my mechanical pencil. CHECK!

Phase 6: Eat lunch.

Phase 7: Apologise to Tran.

Phase 8: Go home.

As I eat my lunch it occurs to me that apologizing to exTraneous would be a sign of weakness. And really, accusing her of being a thief is one of the nicer things I’ve done for her in recent memory. She probably doesn’t need an apology. It's probably just enough to let her know I found it.

Message for Tran: Tran, I found my pencil! You can stop looking now.

I hope she reads this...