Blame it on the Rain.

The rain can make the superior species do silly things.

It can make...

...them think that cardboard is going to keep them dry for ten blocks.

...women roll up their jeans while tip-toeing the shallow end of a puddle with pink open-toe stilettos that frame their bespeckled pedicures, all the while yelping and screeching with each consequent step.

...teenagers fall off bikes while trying to hold an umbrella with one hand and a duffel bag with the other.

...teased-hair, smeared eye-liner, seven hundred bracelet adorned, cowboy boot totting, precision ripped jean wearing macho men scurry while their 10-inch healed, slime green prom dress, every little girl's dream under the Christmas tree Barbie Doll Bust Aquanet hair stacked 3 stories high girlfriend stands in the middle of the intersection wailing like a seagull fighting a vulture for the ocean front property carcass of a boat propellered manatee (the vulture was on vacation, please save the manatee).

...the Saturday night, half in the bag, completely in the funk, no upper lip, wing-tipped brethren use their leather brief cases as umbrellas.

...three university girlfriends share a medium sized Cynthia Rowley, lilac emblazoned parasol when in actuality the owner and holder of last year's mom's birthday present is standing in the back getting soaked.

...a poor soul to forget to sweep back his salt/peppered comb over. Instead, letting it hang like the fringes of heaven. Trust, I wanted to take the pic, but it just seemed like a bad idea to rile up a train full of rain soaked, cosmetics down their cheeks , (OK, some had water proof) squishy shoed folks. I ain't crazy. Being Japan, I wouldn't get mobbed, but man, those cold stares would pierce right through me like an icicle through a terrorist eye in a sequel film to a Bruce Willis film where the original took place in...Nakatomi plaza. It was the '80's, Japanese corporate take overs, Nintendo/Sega wars. Ah, when Sega was king. Fond memories.

It kept raining all night. I threw on a pair of Audio Technica headphones and let Horse Feathers take me to a land where in the rain, there just might be less clothing and hopefully shaved armpits.

How did I get home? Totes black umbrella, 8 inches in length, about a quarter pound in weight. Compact, fits anywhere. Never leave home with out it.

My New Balance sneaks got wet. I didn't yelp, screech or wail. I just laughed.

A meal means steak and wine.

What can cure my ails? Lately, Diner by Martin Sexton and Einstein on the Beach by the Counting Crows, with a little Sufjan, Drake, and Keys. A bit of my music and Beastie Boys. That's what dominates the Pod these days. Yep, got one. Black. 8gb. You get used to it I guess.

Last night was a bit of a drag down night. So I flip the Pod into a bit of pace tunes and start making the Japanese uncomfortable on the last leg of my train ride. Governator by Green Day takes me to my bike, where I meet up with Adam Duritz.

I had a nice Cabernet that I have been waiting to crack, a gift From Mr. Kubo, coolest Japanese teacher I have met. A 2000, read it up. This the last year to drink it and it looks to be a cherry.

What came to mind to pull me out of the doldrums? Garlic steak with Sauteed Spinach. Steak in Japan ain't cheap, but I got a bit of a deal and cooked nice.

Luis's Garlic steak with Sauteed Spinach:
Nice steak
Nice Bottle of Red (not Merlot!, something with body)
Spinach
Garlic (fresh clove and minced)
Olive Oil
Salt
Pepper
Dry Basil

Over medium heat, warm some oil and throw in the garlic clove after you've sliced it up. Turn off at light brown color for the garlic. Wait til the oil completely cools or it wil splatter and burn you. Add half a cup of water, and the chopped spinach. Med flame again, cover and let simmer. When the spinach starts wilting, add some minced garlic (buy a little jar). Add any more seasoning to taste ( I like red pepper flakes). Cook spinach to desired firmness or mushiness ( I like a bit crisp with some wilting).

Meanwhile, rub salt, basil and pepper (or not) with the back of a medium sized spoon. Lower the flame again on the pan and place the steak on top of the spinach, cover. Cook until you can't see pink on both sides(works with any steak but remember the thicker and bigger, the more time to cook).

Now 2 choices: I have a broiler. Broil it, and keep watching it and turning it with a good pair of metal thongs (your best friend and tool in the kitchen) until how you like it(did mine medium). Or if you don't have a broiler, mid-high flame, a little bit of oil and flip the steak in there. Be careful with the amount of oil and any wetness on the steak from the spinach.

There you have it, enjoy. You can do the same thing with fish(less cooking time), but chicken takes to long and too much bacteria when it's still half raw. Also, large slices of eggplant for a vegetarian style, add a little apple vinegar for flavor on the eggplant.

What to wear?

No, not what clothes I was going to wear on stage Sunday night when I played at Tin's Hall, Tennoji, Japan. No, what underwear.

First, comfort. I had enough to worry about with singing, playing and always the possible hostile crowd, because of my singing and playing.(Kidding, I do well up there). I didn't want to be shifting and fidgeting on my feet. I tried on about 5-6 pairs before I settled on a kind blue tye-dye-ish model I just got at the Gap. Good fit and support, and with no bra to match('cause I'm a guy, not cause I didn't buy or have a clean one or...got it?), the blue went well with my shirt and shoes. Boy's gotta match, no?

Before I sang, I took part in a little banter in Japanese with the MC of the event. Mind you, I went after a guy who air guitar-ed to "Dangerzone"(yep, Kenny Loggins, Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, you know buddy). I was calm.

After some pleasantries, the MC said something in Japanese, that left me aghast. Sighting the bit shock to my face, Mr. MC, in his best english translated for me, "You are very cute!"

Oh, I understood, in both languages. I guess the underwear worked.

Take it where you can kids, take it where you can.

Welcome to me.

Richard Thompson sings Tempted.

Aren't we all.

Last Friday marked 2 years since I've been in the land of the rising sun, yet it wasn't cause for celebration. Not that I haven't enjoyed my time here, on the contrary, it's been a humanizing experience for me. Yes, I wasn't very human before.

Instead of doing a memory montage in my head of the past 2 years, I found myself thinking of wishes. I don't particularly have any outstanding wishes at the moment, but I traced back to when I was a kid. Mine were always moderate wishes. With the standard issue 3, #1 would be rid the world of acne. No more white heads, black heads, pot marked faces, red blemishes. Boom. All gone. But, now I think, well that would probably cause some kind of herd problems for the human race. We're talking about perpetuating the species here. Maybe acne cures some kind of chance of "mixing" or something.

#2, Mental disabilities. I grew up with an autistic sister and it's something that I think about every day. One of the reasons I took so many damn psychology classes at uni, (a couple I got bored and skipped a bit, but a c passes). But again, that would also probably cause an imbalance, and probably many jobs would be lost, just and un-just ones. And I love my sis for who I know, not for she could be. The laughs we've had together, I would never trade that.

#3, $100,000. Not a lot, no? Just enough to pay off some debts and the rest to make it realize some dream. Too much money can materialize too many dreams or dreams too quickly. But, you have just enough, you walk it up the stairs or fall flat on your face. You did it, either way, to yourself. That one still has some merit.

I just dropped a pen on the floor. Dust. I just vacuumed 2 days ago, and seems like I never did. I hate dust. You want a wish? No more dust and allergies. There goes the Claritins and cleaning products industries.

I'll, take a maid for now.

Welcome to me.