Yesterday was Respect For The Aged Day, a national holiday. I spent the morning cursing the computer (aged piece of crap). The manual suggests "rebuilding the desktop" if the thing is working poorly. 'Course, following the instructions for this supposedly simple task causes everything I actually use on the ignorant machine to quit working. Oh, the "TTY Tool" and the "Catalogs Extension" and the "Ether Talk" work just fine, but the Help Guide and the wordprocessor and the printer and the e-mail just don't work at all. Just great, I'll talk to Ether. Did manage to find a game that I had forgotten was on there and it worked so I killed centipedes for awhile to calm my nerves. Finally got everything working, but the modem was still broken, turns out that was the problem all along...

So I head out to purchase a new modem, hoping I can find something with a few english words on it (eventually found one with the word "Macintosh" on it. Bought that one and it actually worked. B had the day off, national holiday, so the first stop was Tokyu department store where she had ordered earings to match a necklace she bought there several months ago. In the glass elevator to the 8th floor, I notice the portable neighborhood shrines massing in the street below.

"Oh goody", I say to B, "Another parade."

"I hope this is the right store", says B.

"Did you already pay for these earings?", I ask.

"Of course, but I don't think this is the place."

Eventually we found the earings in the other Tokyu department store, four blocks away...

So I'm standing in front of the computer store, just about to go in, but the shrines are on the move. These aren't the huge shrines that they race around sometimes, these are small neighborhood shrines. The actual shrine is about the size of the Liberty Bell, only square and ornately handcarved and goldleafed. They are mounted on long poles for carrying. Twenty or thirty people, barefoot and dressed in matching bathrobes yell and shout and clack sticks and whistle and sweat and haul this thing around the downtown streets. There's about thirty neighborhoods taking their gods out for a walk. I'm standing there, minding my own business, grinning at one float that seems to be undermanned and struggling and the guy in front gives me this signal, "Hey, you want a part of this?" I think, "Sure, how hard can it be? Besides, I'm in excellent shape after a year of sitting around on my fat butt doing nothing." So I jump right in, press my big belly inbetween a couple of Japanese guys who immediately duck out for a rest.

Let me give you an idea what this thing weighs: imagine the Liberty Bell, filled with concrete. Now mount it on the average american suburban back yard deck. Now remember that I'm a foot taller than everybody else. Everytime I got my shoulder under the stupid thing there was a loud sigh of relief from everyone on my side. Eventually I tried just pushing up with my hands, "No no, on the shoulder, go with the rythm." I don't know about you guys, but I got a bone on the top of my shoulder and bouncing a nine thousand pound six-by-six on that bone hurt. Hurt bad. Both my shoulders are swollen and purple and scraped raw. So we haul this monster up the hill, turn around and head back. Now we're passing the other shrines on their way up. Each team tries to make more racket and bounce the backporch around to show that their god is better than your god nanee nanee nanee. Little old guy is grinning and yelling in my face, encouraging me to yell, I'm just trying to breathe, feeling the tightening in my chest that surely proceeds a massive heart attack, the timber is crushing my collarbone into powder, so I start yelling "Ow! Ow! OW!" They think this is hilarious, soon everyone on my team is yelling "Ow! Ow! Ow!" All the while, two big guys on the front are pushing BACK as hard as they can so we can't go too fast... Ow. So we lug this thing down the street around the block up another hill thru an alley up another hill down the street... (did I mention that we're all barefoot? that it's ninety degrees? that my heart has broken thru my ribcage and is actually beating outside my body? that I'm taller than everyone else?) Finally up ahead I see a couple of floats stopped. There's a truck, and sawhorses and guys in bathrobes that match my teams beckoning us over, lining it up, setting it down... God save me its over...

My head is spinning, my legs are wobbly, I drink too much water too fast and feel nauseous and everybody on my team is slapping me on the shoulder (ow) and shaking my hand (ow) and telling me how much fun I'm having and where do I live? and how come I'm not dragging my own neighborhood's behomoth around town? and where am I from? and how long have I been in Japan? and we do this once a year, one kilometer, wouldn't I like to join them next year? and after this we're all going to go out and get really drunk... These are the same normally reserved Japanese who wouldn't even glance at me on the street, much less go out drinking with me... I say, oh that's great, sure I'll do it next year (yeah right) but I really have to limp home I was supposed to be back 2 hours ago. I give them my card, everyone tells me their names, slap me on the shoulder (ow), as I'm walking away I realize that they are not done yet. The other shrines are up and on the move again. One kilometer? I'm certain that I singlehandedly carried the thing up Everest and back. For one brief instant I consider going back to help finish up but my legs won't let me. I wobble home. This morning I'm a mass of purple bruise from the ears down. My legs don't work. I can't lift my arms.

Best time I've had in Japan so far.