The King

Or maybe that should be "The Kuma". I'm not sure. I'll get to that part at a later date.

As promised in the last post, I shall do my utmost to top the post I did the last time I was on a flight home from Japan. As I have already passed Babarovsk, I have but one card to play. That of fame, glitz, glamour, and champagne. And free candy, as it were.

Now I don't consider myself to be the type of person who is impressed by celebrity or celebrities. But of course I am. So when I got the invitation to head on over to the ol' Swedish embassy right there in Roppongi, I accepted with all the grace of stir-fried tuna. On Sunday, I went there, had a pretty nice time drinking a bit of champagne with some of my friends, chatting about this and that. As a pure bonus - and yes, I would call it coincidence were it not the most ridiculous lie ever conceived by man - we were not alone in our hob-nobbing. It just so happened that H.R.H. King Carl XVI Gustav of Sweden and H.R.H. Queen Silvia of the very same Sweden were there too. Talk about a small world. So we hang out, I give him some tips on where to go for music in Shibuya, talk to her about H&M opening in Harajuku, and... Well, ok, so I stood in line with 30 other people to get to introduce myself in a rather brief fashion, shake hands and that was it, but if wishes were fishes...

When I got back, I informed my girlfriend of the above. Her first question, and I am quoting here, was: "So when you introduced yourself, was his reply 'Hi, I am The King'?". I found that hilarious. Maybe it was the champagne, did I mention the champagne?

Come to think of it, I don't really remember his exact words, nor those of the Queen. I do remember his "impromptu" speech right at the end of the hour-long mingle-fest, which started with the words "This is the King speaking". That was kind of funny, too. Seems like a pretty relaxed guy, once you get to know him.

For you see, quite apart from teaching his elder daughter how to fold a paper boat a couple of years ago, I have spent much more time with him than many who were at the embassy that night. In fact, he's sitting right next to me as I type this. At least if by "right next to me", you mean "some 29 rows and two curtains ahead of me". But it's all good. For you see, of course, having felt the same connection I did during our meeting at the embassy, I'm sure he decided to catch the same flight back to Sweden as me. Strange, didn't see him on the train on the way to the airport, though. Guess they must have taken the bus or something.

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So yeah, this is me leaving Japan. Again. It happens with an alarming frequency, but one that will hopefully decrease after this time. It all feels a little... grand, or something. The reason for this inflated feeling of self-importance is that in pretty much every Japanese movie ever made, things always begin in the end of March, right when the cherrytrees are in full bloom. Also, things have a nasty habit of ending at the same time, albeit one or more years later. Guess they like the metaphor. "Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end." The whole country is surely whack for old emo-bands from Minnesota. Getting back on track: If you're gonna leave Japan, it's a pretty nice time to do it in. A bit like quitting while you're ahead; getting out while the gettin's good, and whatknot. Get to see nature at its most beautiful, while not having to stick around to endure the inhuman temperatures of... mid-April?

Finally, before I say goodbye to Japan for now, a question: Why on all the Gods' Green Earth is North Shinagawa station located SOUTH of the regular Shinagawa station? You know the people who named it have seen maps and quite likely even a compass or two in their day, I'm just saying.

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If I had been any less of a lazy-ass (in the denotation of the early 00's, "lazy-@$$", for those who were around to enjoy that particular time), I might have posted the above as soon as it was written. But I'm not. I'm exactly the amount of lazy-ass that I am, so here we are, two weeks later, and one vicious blog-challange is on the edge of being lost. So! I finally get around to posting what is - in all ways that count - old news. Good on me! But to try to cancel that out and leave off with some actually new news, I'll inform you that I survived Friday the 13th (as I have a habit of doing). And that in the future, I expect people to rewrite the calendars to fit the Japanese way of numbering things: 11-12A-12B-14. And no, that's not my hand in there.