This is How is Starts

“Good morning”

“え？”

“Good morning.”

“あ～”

“Ah?”

“あ～”

“….Good…morning.”

“あああああああ”

“…Good….morning.”

“あ”

I wish I could say that this was a transcript for:

1. A conversation with a student who is currently getting dental work done.

2. A conversation with several different students.

But no. I cannot say that. For this was a conversation with a student I wss just introduced to today, who I will lovingly call (Chinpira)チンピラくん.


Can you spot the チンピラ?...if not...then you did not just pick one at random. 

Random Thought.............

Phrase Nick hates in 3......2.....1....

People change.

It's obvious....one of those things that need not to be said. But the fact remains that it is true. People do change.

For me....living in Japan...it's odd to see people change when they live thousands of miles away. Surreal doesn't really even begin to describe the feeling really. Not even sure there is a verb to describe it....gonna have to make one up....Facebookization.

....lemme expound on that.

So in olden times, you move across the ocean, away from classmates, family, and friends. And unless you call those peeps...they change. You can hear it sometimes in their voice...but you cannot see it. And then, 10 years later, you go to the high school reunion and learn that Sally Q. ended up marrying Burt Reynolds.

Or you are in the grocery store, checking the ripeness of watermelons (note: this is not done by drop kicking them across the veg aisle. Learn from my mistakes!) and you run into James to find out that the once musclebound, jock guy who gave you noogies is now....a woman. Who goes by Jammette.

And you see those changes and you respond with a , “wow! Well whaddya know...that person changed!” and that's kinda it. Maybe you remark about it to some friends or family...and then in a week you forget about it.

That was several years ago.

Now, with Facebook...it is easier to keep in touch with family and friends....sure...but it's a bit more than that.

You see the changes. Lemme expound a bit more.

Say you run into Sally Q., and learn that she is getting married after not seeing her for a couple of years! Big news, right? But your brain processes it and you go about your business. Now with Facebook/Myspace/Yourspace/whateveryourareusing, you

*see that she is engaged

*see that she has started shopping for a new dress

*see that her best man/bridesmaid is James/Jammette

*see that the guy she is getting married to...is your 3^rd cousin thrice removed

*see that as time approaches the wedding, pictures of her look different

*see an announcement 3 days before the wedding that she is expectinga bouncy baby boy

*see that during the wedding photos, she went into labor, causing the camera man to fall over. She gave birth to a girl

*see that 3 years later, she has divorced Burt Reynolds, and is now dating the bestman/bridesmaid...Jammette

You see what I am talking about? Is it not odd to witness...in not real time..but in close to realtime..people you know...but may never meet again in person...changing? To see them changing? Their beliefs, appearances, tastes, locale, EVERYTHING....it changes.

Well...it's a bit weird for me at least. Especially being in Japan, where most of my friends still know as, “That crazy place that has robot ninjas and underwear vending machines”(one of those is true...) and my family know as, “the place with that language that isn't Chinese but it sounds like it to me when you speak it.....”. I see my friends/family being professors, becoming lawyers, in university (cousins), getting married, touring other countries of their own...and it's..it's.....yeah. There is no word to describe it. But it's odd to say the least. Which is to say the most.

And this is why I usually never write about the random things going on in my mind. But, today..you get to see it.

Now if you excuse me I need to go change my pants....INTO PAJAMAS YA LOON! No, I did not have and accident. Sheez.

I should have listened to my hamster. Had I listened to my hamster, I would have been fine.

…..let me explain.

In keeping with my deal of writing something everyday, I have decided to look in a random direction, and write something about what I see! It should be fun…right? Of course! Today’s direction is down! What will I see? Let’s find out.

…

Well, I am not going to write about my crotch. There is no way that would be a topic that anyone would wanna read about. Hmm….perhaps further down.

….

An old wrapper to a piece of chocolate candy. Really old…like dusty old…in fact..dusty wrapper…dusty chocolate….uh oh….I think we have ourselves a journal entry a formin’:

No. No it Isn’t! or Get this out of my cookies!

• cooling off: "yeah..actually I am a little hot and could use.......eww that is gross..dude that is gross...forget it."
• stopping people from fighting you:  "I am gonna punch you in the.....ewww...gross...dude that is gross..forget it....."
• winning any argument :  "Obama could totally bodyslam the Rock if.....ewww..gross...dude that is gross.....forget it"
• fighting crime: "Hands in the air! No body move! this is a ....ewww...gross...dude that is gross....forget it"
• and let's not forget...impressing the ladies:  DO NOT DO THIS TO IMPRESS LADIES

"Where the Biscuits Am I?"

A true story written in verse

By Ser Nicklaus Hawkins the First

"Where the biscuits am I?"

A young,be-dreaded lad,

 clad in a jumpsuit of blue, quite rad

uttered these words, which were not a fad

of his to say it often

around him were sights, he had never seen

he was in a place, he had never been

fore in this area, to be, he was not keen

his GPS was broken.

What brought him to this current state?

Is there anything that could've saved him from this fate?

On this we all shall flashbasticate

Yes, this piece is poorly written

Approximately One Month Ago

A slightly younger, be-dreaded Nick,

Wandered a video shop like a dumbfounded hick,

Of the goods, many could be his pick

For the eve's upcoming b-day party.

"What's this" he spake in the game aisle,

When he spotted something not most vile,

The perfect gift hidden in the pile!

But there was just one problem.

This gift, you see, my reader dear,

Was for a birthday not at all near

1 month, in fact, for its head would rear

Plenty of time to buy that later.

So with much aplomb and derring do

He returned that gift to the shelf-aroo

"1'll get it later!" He did coo

But man.... he was mistaken.

This is a lesson on which you should heed

If nothing else from this piece you read

Never procrastinate the gift-giving deed

Later you will regret it.

But our dumb fool, went on wandering about

Got another gift and checked himself out

Exited the door, in his mind not a doubt

That he would have time to spare.

Shortly before the biscuits line is uttered

"Ballocks!  Biscuits! Buns! And Burlap!"

"Beans!  Brimestone! Brine and Bap!"

"Bippity, Boppity, Boopity Braap!"

And other pseudo-expletives did he mutter.

For on this eve, was another being born festa,

Of which he was going to be a guesta

And no gift had he, not even a vesta

Rhyming is ridonkulously hard

So, after lunch out did he bike,

To send money home, a job he did not like,

For doing so took five hours!!!....psyche!

Just one, but still felt like five.

Afterwards, to the shop, he planned to return

For good party-patron vibes, he desired to earn

And not to grill in shame, nay burn

At having nary a present

"The old way takes too long!" he said to himself.

"with a shortcut, I can be faster than a magic elf!"

"this way looks good..wish I had me some pelf!"

Because then he could go by car.

By the way, some of you probably think:

"pelf ain't no word I heard of"...CACHINK!

That is the sound of a money drawer being shut, PLINK PLINK!

Because pelf means wealth, loot, or booty.

Anywho, that short cut he did make.

Despite, short not being the appropriate take.

Fore the short cut was long, his legs did ache.

After a 30 minute detour.

"Where the biscuits am I?" said a young,be-dreaded lad,

 clad in a jumpsuit of blue, quite rad.

uttered these words, which were not a fad

of his to say it often

around him were sights, he had never seen

he was in a place, he had never been

fore in this area, to be, he was not keen

his GPS was broken.

A コンビニ to the left, shop to the right

An auto dealer he wouldn't go to at the dead of night

Cars zooming by, oh what a site!

For he was horribly lost.

Should he backtrack to where his detour began?

Lose more time than the runtime of Labyrinth of Pan?

Or keep on wandering, like that Kenny Rogers man?

What do you think he didth?

If you thought, "Forge ahead! Blaze new trails!"

"Who knows what he will find, maybe the Holy Grail!"

"Or Mother Teresa's long hidden red veil!"

Then ye are a nincompoop.

Several minutes later, probably ten

While backtracking over sites again and again

In the distance he saw something that made him grin

A shop by the name of Geo.

Although in no way familiar to him

Said shop had videos and games! Grin grin!

And onwards he biked and in he went, in!

To look for the perfect gift.

And he found a present, despite being lost

Although, at frankly, 1.5 times the cost

He couldn't be bothered to go all complain sauce

"Wrap it for me, it's a gift." Said he.

He exited that shop, and looked left

Then grinned another grin, for he was cheft!

He knew where he was! He departed......quite sweft.

Yeah, those are not real words.

But I am tired, and you get the idea

I ventured my way back to here.

"The hero and narrarator are the same!??! How queer?!?"

Of course they are....ya crank.

So What is the lesson we have learned today?

Well earlier, I do believe I did say,

"The best time to do things, is right away!"

Or something to that affect.

But no, the real reason is somewhat deeper.

Ye maybe shocked, it's a real creeper.

Yet here we go, so read with your peepers.

And read it carefully please.

At no point, should you randomly write in verse,

Of your writing, it will be the worse.

It takes up time in a way most perverse.

And it's really hard to stop.

The end. Finale. We are done. No more.

Why can't I stop?  Where is the door?

Will I be trapped in this rhyming fever evermore?

No seriously....this is not funny.

Please, save me.....someone make it stop.

Were this a pen, then I could easily drop

And turn the page and start afresh

But alas, it is a keyboard.

END

Warning 1

If you think that all students are angels…that there is not such thing as a bad student, stop reading this right now.  will just make you angry.

Warning 2

If you are said student, reading this in the future..and have become an English Scholar and turned your life around…the following info may shock you. As you have no idea how close you were to Nick retribution.

Warning 3

This entry contains bad quoted language. Said language has been filtered with the handy dandy ! mark.

So I almost uppercutted a student today.

I didn’t…but I almost did. And I mean almost in the true sense here, not almost like in the

“Yeah, my boss told me to turn in the Johnson report by Friday and I was like, “bleep please!” and almost punched him in his bleepin’ face.. ha ha….bleep.”
 

but in the.... 

“Today, an English teacher has been fired for knocking a student out via uppercut. Witnesses say it was awesome, yet brutal. A new word has been coined to describe this by Webster herself…Brawesome.”

..why? How? And will you feel as though I almost did the decent thing? Well, to find out, we have to flashback to the beginning of this day.

You ever get confused?

Of course you have. We all get confused. It is just a part of life. However, unless you are completely absentminded, or in fact two pieces of metal slammed together (think about it), there is usually some reason behind your confusion. You are not just confused for the sake of confusion.

Take for instance 2 months ago. I brushed my teeth with aloe vera aftershave lotion. For like…2minutes…before realizing what the awful taste was. Pretty gross right?

Good for your outsides….bad for your insides…

…..I stand corrected. this says it is apparently natural, health and vitamin C. I assume that means it contains vitamin C and not telling me that the aloe vera plant is vitamin c incarnate.

Well, why did I brush my teeth with aloe vera aftershave lotion.instead of toothpaste? Why because I was confused of course! Now….what was the cause of my confusion? Well, I had just woken up from a rather deep sleep probably involving my usual nightmare (forgetting to write that book report on Huck Finn and having to B.S. one up on the spot in front of class…no…that did not actualy happen to me so shut it) and stumbled to the bathroom sink. In my sleepy haze, I saw two tubes. Both were white. Both were stout. Both had green labels. Usually, I am awake enough to read the labels clearly…but apparently not that morning. Thus, in my sleepy haze, I grabbed the wrong tube and…viola….I brushed my teeth with aloe vera aftershave lotion.

This tale, however, is not about aloe vera aftershave lotion. That would be ridiculous. That was merely the prologue (which I once again, tricked you into reading….heh heh). No…no good ser/madam. Today’s tale is about why I ended up 45 minutes late to middle school… with a bag full of puppets and stuffed animals. And hopefully, we can figure out who is to blame for my confusion. You ready? Good. Let us get started.

The Black Table at Lunch

Hey guys. I realize it has been aeons since I have updated. Also, I am going to warn you, this is an entry that has been on my hard drive for literally 4 months now. Yes four long months. I never uploaded it because I didn't think it was particularly funny...and was more of something..to be honest....is kind of a touchy subject for me.  However, they say you should do that thing you are most afraid of, because from doing these things you become a better person and what not.  .....well someone says taht I am sure.  Not sure who but sounds like something I have heard before. anywho, let us get to it...and for my own entertainment we are going to jump right into this article using the word thus......ready?

***

Thus, that leaves me with the more serious, yet possibly entertaining topic of “The Black Table at Lunch”. A recent NPR Podcast was listening to reminded me of this topic. Thus…looks like that’s what I will be spending this morning talking to you about…without further ado, let us get to it. Warning…I am a bit apprehensive to write anything serious about racial relations or what not….and I will not be saying African American, or persons of color, or melanin enhanced…but black and white throughout this. You are talking to someone who, literally, for his SAT marked other for race on the category and wrote human. They, literally, sent me my results, and the label with my stats and had me down as African American(how did they find out??????). I am not kidding. That is another tale however.

Anywho, in this article if I try to be as P.C. as possible…my fingers might fall off and…well..I’ll feel dumb. So black I shall be using. Sorry if it upsets anywho of you. but here we go….

So I am a bit…and I won’t lie to you….apprehensive about going home this summer. I will be returning from Japan for summer vacation this year. Be home for 2 to 3 weeks. By the time I do go home for this visit..it will have been 2 years since I have stepped foot inside the U.S. and yes..I say U.S…not U. S. of A. or the USA or Awesometown.

Anyways, the reason I am apprehensive is….well…..because of what happened when I went home for Christmas my first year in Japan (waaavy lines waaavy lines….getting bluuurrrrryyy).

The 1^st year I went home for Christmas. I had only been in Japan for like 4 months. Yet I wanted to be with the fam (family) for Christmas (Christmas). My hair was not the super dread action it is now….but more of a nappy fro. An embarrassing nappy fro. The kind that gets you beat up for having. Needless to say, I needed a haircut.

Near my house is a barber shop. One I frequented a lot while I was home. They know what they are doing and manage to know what a fade is. And no one there tries to trim my eyebrows (that happens sometimes if I go to like the blasted Hair Cutlery, or Barber Barn, or Quik Quts, or another one of those places…they try to take away my massive man brows! Cut that out!).

The Hair Cuttery once managed to give me, a black man, a bowl cut.  I believe I have said enough on this subject

The thing is, this barbershop has a map of Africa on it’s window, if I remember right. Thus it should tell you quite clearly that it cuts your hair if you …ok let’s just cut the blather. It’s a black barbershop. Which works out well for me…because I am black. Thus it’s a good collaboration…an いいコラボレーション.　or at least it was.

Some of you have the idea of a black barbershop from the movies you see with good old Ice Cube and Queen Latifah. Hijinks a plenty and jokes a telling. Well….plenty of jokes are told…but not so many hijinks. What I imagine they miss, is what I call, the judgment moment. It’s something that has happened at every black barbershop I have ever ever EVER been to. It happens the moment you push open that door and the bell at the top rings.

At this moment, when you open that door. Several things can happen. I will explain to you, from the P.O.V. of a guy in the barber’s chair, what can happen…or what I have seen happen.

I have seen a guy walk in, smile and say some version of “What’s up?” there are many. You can parse them out for yourself. None of them were “How’s it hanging ya jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive turkey?!?!” so if any of you do say that and get beat up, don’t come crying to me about it. Anyway, after being acknowledged they get about their business of getting their hair cut.

The slightly better entry I have seen, is for someone not to smile at all and just nod when they come in. Wait for the barber to recognize him, say their name, and then joke around. They are then clear to get their haircut.

The slightly better than that entrance is the guy who walks in singing. NOT WHISTLING. Singing. This guy usually is pretty flashy and knows everyone in the shop already. In fact…this guy is in so good with the barbershop…that the process of your haircut will SLOWDOWN as they get to yackin’ it up with everyone in the shop. The guy cutting your hair will cut maybe for 10 seconds at a time with the clippers, then stop to yuck it up…then continue. This happy guy will be in the shop for probably 5 hours….10 minutes of that spent touching up his hair which was JUST CUT THE DAY BEFORE. You will be there for all five.

Sorry. I digress. But the worst entrance I see, that is..sorry to say…just amusing…is more often than not done by some of you who…uh…didn’t know it…was…a…black barbershop. Fine. Usually you are white. Happy? I said it. Whitey mcwhite white white.

Anywho, what happens is they walk in and when the bell goes off…it does actually quiet. I think a record literally scratches. His eyes go wide and he usually stutters something like, “uh…how long is the wait?” or “uh…er…WHAT’S UP JIIIIIIIIIIVE TURKEYS??” or something else out of desperation. Usually the former. The answer is usually something reasonable like “20 minutes” regardless of the answer, he’s already looking his watch and says, “hmm…be back later” then whoooooosh. Out the door. Everyone in the shop, including you has a good laugh…or at least I used to.

I mean I have been to this shop before…..I knew one of the guys there. Furthermore, last time I checked I am black” (although, with black and white photos…I sometimes come out looking white…not joking). . Sure a Starbucks Frappacino shade probably called something like “Mocha Lovin’.

My mom…who was waiting in the car knew exactly what had happened and tried to ask me what was up. I was too ashamed to really say what it was. That for reasons unknown to me, in that instance, I was scared of my own race.

I will let that sink in for a minute and come back.

How many people will ever say that to you….huh? Well I will. And the reason made no sense whatsoever. I tend to do just fine. Before moving here, I could walk into barbershops…maybe be a bit awkward….but joke it up and end up doing just fine.

What is the problem?

So I have thought about this issue off and on for a loooooong looooooong time. Given that I have black parents, have friends of every race imaginable (go ahead..imagine some new ones…yep….those too), I tried to think to myself, “when is the only other time I have actually felt..whatever that feeling is?” and I was able to track it down to one thing.

The Black Table at Lunch.

There is a black table at lunch. There always is. Don’t give me that look. If you went to a school that was integrated (you did…if you had to think about that one for too long...methinks you are a time traveler) then you most likely at some point noticed that there was a table that was mostly black.

Why does this table exist? That’s a question for a sociology major...not me. What I do know, is that all my life...I have never sat at this table.

Why?

Because I felt that same feeling. The one from the barbershop. You see…at my school at least, very few people who sat at the black table deviated beyond it at lunch. You sit there at lunch. That’s how it goes. Why? Because it’s what you do I suppose…don’t ask me.

All I know is that at all of my schools I would try it..I would even joke around…but I got that same distanced feeling. .  Things were still quieter. And I got looked at as if my name was Bob McGuillicuty (couldn’t think of a less black name than that).

Thus, as a result, I would usually end up sitting with my other friends. Oddly enough…anytime I did…I noticed that the “non black” tables never gave me any guff. In fact, I sometimes got the feeling they thought they were somehow cooler for having me there. Which of course, they were right. I am a pretty cool dude to be around. I mean, my coolness can only be trumped by….sorry. did it again. Anywho, to be serious, I got more of an open arm feeling from the “white” tables than the “black” ones.

Sometimes I assumed it was because I happened to have lighter skin. But I threw that one out in middle and high school. This is gonna sound like I am making this up, but I swear I am not (and those of you who knew me in high school and middle school can attest to this). But I had a friend named Nick Jenkins who was of the same skin tone as me and seemed to do just fine at the “black” table. However…I noticed he never sat anywhere but at that table.

Is it because I am a traitor at lunch? Is it my skintone? Is it because I smell bad?

Ballocks if I know. All I know is that making trips to that table during lunch was about as pleasant as getting an enema with porcupine needles. Sorry. For me, it’s the truth.  Nothing feels worse than being forefully distanced with super WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! beams

ow

So I eventually, back in that time…starting looking at the Black Table phenomenon…and realized it actually went a bit further than that. Black seats on the bus (and get this, ha! Usually in the back! Not making this up. Stop looking at me like that), black groups for school projects, black group for field trips.

Why the segregation? What’s up? Why would you willingly segregate yourself? To be fair, the bus, field trips, etc…, I would switch back and forth between the groups and it would go well enough….but…still….they would never..ya know….blasted mix.

One day I remember getting pretty pissed about the whole thing and I made the mistake of asking the “black table” “WHY ARE YOU SEGREGATING YOURSELF!” to which I got looked at like I was a fool. The response I got came out like something, “sorry…we can’t turn it on and off like you can.”

BAAAAAAAAM.

…turn it on and off? Huh? Do I turn it off? Do I turn it on? How do your turn your race on and off? Is that possible?

Apparently it was. The “white table”, when I asked…said that I did seem a bit different when I would hang out with people, primarily of my own race.

Confusion maximus. What is so confusing is that despite whether there is truth to any of those claims, I never felt…that way. I always talked about what was interesting to me. I never changed my interest to fit into either group. Nor did I try to make myself seem cooler. I have always joked around and made funny noises. Just what I do. So what is the deal?

Well, whatever the deal is…being in Japan for 3 months was long enough where I, apparently, lost whatever I was turning on and off. I really hate to think that I was doing that….but apparently…I suppose I was.

So now…it’s been two years. Do I have a switch that does that? Do I have super sweet powers that allow me to blend in with anyone? Could I possibly become some sort of futuristic ninja assassin of doom by blending into whoever is around me?

Balls if I know.

What I do know, is in the meantime…there are somethings that can make this whole thing a lot easier.

STOP SEGREGATING YOURSELF BASED ON RACE! IT’S DUMB!

This table phenomenon I have noticed often makes me think that, if Separate(separate? Yeah there is a rule I know…I forgot it.) But Equal somehow actually ever worked, that the majority of the population, in my area at home at least, would embrace it. They seem to be doing so already. If you interact with several groups..you get good at doing it! It’s just how it works! My parents have friends of every race….and guess what? Apparently…from conversations with them…they have encountered this same phenomenon and find it ridiculous. Thus I feel less ridiculous.

Would you like to feel less ridiculous? Sit at the table you feel apprehensive about sitting at at lunch. Be it the white one, black one, hispanic I don’t care! Just go sit there for a week or two straight and see what happens. Maybe you’ll get…whatever this switch thing is. I dunno. Maybe you won’t.

However, I do advise you to stay away from one table. Stay away from the one that has the guys playing that game where they try to take a knife and go between their fingers as fast as they can. Or that table where the kids play Russian roulette. Or the tables where kids snort Pixy Stix and try to pretend it’s some sort of drug. Those tables are actually dangerous…and I would prefer it if readers of mine didn’t die from advice I have given them.