The kidz

There's nothing that makes you feel quite so old as when you are surrounded by lots of people who weren't born when you were. This is completely natural. If it wasn't, then something would be wrong with the system, and we all know how difficult those are to fix.

---

The reason I've been (more) absent (than usual) is three-fold. One is that I'm a lazy mo-fo, but that should be painfully obvious to all parties involved ny now. The second one is that I've been having yet another adventure in bureaucrazy, as I call witlessly call it.

I got my current passport three-and-a-bit years ago. It now has four full-page visas in it. I say this, of course, with a certain measure of pride. Not at some vain belief that I've "seen the world" or whatever, but rather that I've managed to get four visas at all. It seems to me that the entire process is really just a test to see how many hoops you can get a potential visitor to jump through in order to enter your country just to weed out the ones who don't care enough to compete.

The most nerve-rattling one was probably the Chinese one. Some of you may already know of my Adventures in Communism from last year, so I'll spare you the details. However, even Japanese ones can be quite taxing. Documents from four (4!) different sources, all signed and sealed? Yeah.

The tragic thing is, I don't think they really care. The embassy which tells you to do all these things just weighs your envelope and judges you worthy or not worthy of a visa to their country purely by the weight of the papers you've sent them. They then proceed to do something for a while, and send you your passport back to you with what is - in all ways that count - just a big sticker covering a full frikkin page.

But this time, I am actually indebted to them. Without me asking for it, they gave me a longer visa than I should have gotten, as well as an upgrade which may prove useful in the future. Maybe they liked my penmanship. More like they wanted to get me to stop calling every thirty minutes to see if I'd gotten my visa yet.

Yotsuya, here I come. Be prepared. June 28th is the big day. Not that that's any of Yotsuya's concern.

---

The reader will no doubt be aware that I quoted three reasons for the tardiness of this post and have thus far only given you the first two. You will no doubt be expecting me to let you off without mentioning the third and final one. Fear not! I shall write more words which will make even less sense!

Trust me on this one.

---


I went to a "festival". It was not "the festival of lights", since I'm in no way Jewish, nor was it "the monster truck festival of New Zeeland 2007" simply because I doubt such an atrocity exists in this world of ours. Also, to my admitteldly limited knowledge, it's not 2007 in New Zeeland yet. No, this is what the kidz call a "rock" festival. Three whole days, generally speaking.

The first time I went there was in 2002, I think. I remember getting a text message with the reaction from one of my friends that this was "unlike me". There was no malice in that statement, nor is there resentment in me mentioning it here. It's just plain statement of fact, and it's as true then as it is now. I don't belong there, reasons being among others that I'm not 16 years old, nor am I insanely drunk right now. Nor had I REALLY listened to an entire album non-stop that I'd bought and paid for myself before going there that first time. But I'm very glad I did.

This time was more unlike me than every before, really. I didn't plan everything carefully in advance. Hell, I didn't even know which bands were playing until the day before departure. Nor did I know how I was going to get home, since my friends ride was full. That's where not-planning-ahead comes up and bites you in the... groin. But, I managed to get back in one piece, in large part due to friends of friends who drove there in a van. I say this with reverence. A real, honest-to-God tree-killing American Chevy van. Naturally, starting the trip home, it wouldn't start. Battery dead. Luckily, they had a spare, and the knowledge to change the dead one for the new one. Unluckily, this one, too, was dead. But in the end, we got going. Until we stopped, and spent half an hour trying to get help starting it once more. And then solemnly vowed never to turn that engine off again. Global warming? Yes, that would be my fault. Entirely.

The moral of this story? Growing up, I've been surrounded by people who instead of preying on what makes me me have allowed me to "belong" without the added pressure of "conforming" just for the sake of said conforming. They have all allowed me to be a bit strange around the edges and thus not be like them in some ways, though none of those ways actually matter when it comes down to it. For this, I am eternally grateful. Chances are, if you're reading this, you're one of those people. So thank you.

In less than a week, I will be on my way to start another new life in Tokyo. I hope you will be with me.