Next spring, the WBC (World Baseball Classic) returns and Japan is hoping its national team will once again be crowned baseball’s world champs. Well, at least according to the WBC contest anyway.

This begs the question, does anyone believe that the WBC is capable of producing the highest level of competitive baseball in the world? Well, it probably doesn’t need to be said here that most American baseball fans don’t think so. Why? Well, most, if not all believe that the best players in the world eventually make their way to Major League Baseball in the States and that very few of the best, highest-paid professionals in MLB are willing to risk injury, and therefore a potential drop in earned revenue, by participating seriously in a baseball contest that offers little more than a chance to help boost national pride. Yep, the bottom line is money for most of the best athletes pro baseball has to offer. Sad, but true. On top of that, some MLB clubs won’t release players to play in the WBC due to fears of player injuries. In fact, it was recently announced that Hideki Matsui has been refused permission to play in the Classic by his team, the New York Yankees, due to his having spent a fair bit of time on the team’s injury list last season.

Even some Japanese professional baseball players have demonstrated a lack of interest in participating as members of Team Japan. In particular, recently, some Chunichi Dragons players, who were expected to join the national team, have declined to play.

However, one professional Japanese player, who is a member of an MLB team, will be playing in the WBC. And, he happens to be, arguably, the greatest Japanese baseball player ever to put on a uniform. Yeah, you knew it; Ichiro Suzuki. He was the key member of the Japan team that won the inaugural WBC with his dynamic play and fiery demonstrations of leadership. No one can doubt that this guy is a baseball warrior; a player who is part of a very special breed of athlete. I’ll be looking forward to watching him this time around as well.

But, even with legendary players like Ichiro participating, does the WBC matter? I mean, if so many professional baseball players on both sides of the Pacific are showing a lack of interest in participating, and some big-league teams are refusing to allow some of their members to play in the Classic, can we really expect to see the world’s finest baseball being played in the spring of 2009?

What do you think about the WBC?

Ok, here’s the game…

Guess where in Tokyo the photographer was when he snapped the shot. Depending on the photo, a high degree of specificity may be required. Use your best judgment; If more precision is required, you’ll find out in the comments section below. The first person to guess all three locations correctly (subject to the author’s discretion) will get his or her Japan blog written up in JapanBlogger, as long as he or she consents to an interview. Leave your responses in the comments section of this post.

Seen this place before?

Hope it’s not too easy for you…

The following is the continuation of a post begun at my personal blog site. To read that post, click here.

Well, by now you’ve had plenty of time to watch “Primer.” If you haven’t yet, you might not want to read the rest of this post if you’re interested in watching it, since spoilers will follow.

“Primer” tells the story of two engineers, Aaron and Abe, who try to build a device in their garage that would reduce the apparent mass of objects for some technologically useful purpose. After some success in getting their machine to work, Aaron discovers that they’ve built a perpetual motion machine of sorts and they both realize they are sitting on a goldmine. But, after trying to come up with a solid explanation of how the machine works based on the principles of physics, they realize that such knowledge is beyond their ability to understand and things kind of go into limbo for the two.

However, a breakthrough occurs…

One morning, Abe meets Aaron and promises him that if he (Aaron) skips work, he (Abe) will show him “the most meaningful thing that any living organism has ever witnessed.” From there, in a series of increasingly dramatic scenes, Abe reveals to Aaron that the machine works as a time-travel device. The amazing thing about the scenes is that none of the explanations are dumbed down; the real language of physics is used the whole way and the dialogue is totally believable.

Without getting too much into the events that occur within the story, let’s take a look at what happens to Aaron and Abe. Abe reveals to Aaron, after explaining what the machine’s capable of, that he has already built a box that will fit a human body, and that he, in fact, has already traveled back in time. Aaron realizes that the Abe he’s talking to is an Abe from the future and he decides he wants to do some time-traveling too. Well, the two make a killing on the stock market by taking end-of-the-day trading results back in time to each day’s morning and acting on their privileged information. As they take more and more trips, they become bolder, wanting to experiment with causality by carrying out one of Aaron’s fantasies. But, something unexpected and shocking happens.

In the course of carrying out an impromptu experiment, Aaron and Abe come across a character from their daily lives who has seemingly traveled back in time; a future version of a mutual acquaintance. Aaron and Abe realize that, even though they thought were living in the present; a time where all things that occurred were occurring for the first time, a time from which they could go back and manipulate the past with impunity… they were, in fact, living in somebody else’s past; a time that had already occurred at least once, and quite possibly there had already been several iterations. The two realize they are not the ones in control and begin accusing each other of revealing the secret of their machine (at some point in either the past or the future of the timeline they are currently on) to the intruder who has come from the future (it makes sense if you think about it).

I said you’d have to put on your thinking cap for this one, didn’t I?

Well, prior to their realization of the fact they are not in control, Aaron had told Abe that he thought the worst thing he could think of was knowing that the events happening around him were not occurring for the first time and everything that was going to happen was pre-decided, leaving him not in control of his own destiny. Well, the intruder from the future made his greatest fear come true.

It’s funny because, even though I always felt like the main star in the movie of my own life from the time I was a kid, I’ve noticed in recent years that I’ve started to feel more and more like a supporting actor. It’s as if, like Aaron and Abe, I find myself thinking maybe it’s no longer my time. Maybe the whole experience of my life up to this point has been about someone, or something else all along. Is all the control I once had now slipping through my fingers? Am I becoming powerless? Was it really the case all along that I was never in control, and had just maintained the illusion of having it for so long?

No, I couldn’t tell you who the main actor has become in my life (if indeed this is what has happened), but I wonder if, for a lot of people, the main characters in their lives become their children. I guess many humans reach an age where they decide they’ve done all they could do to advance themselves and then decide to live for someone, or something else.

Or maybe I’m just experiencing existential angst and need to reassign a real purpose and meaning to my own existence. I mean, nobody else is going to do it for me, right? I guess too many people reach a point where they start to see how time’s effects make them feel that the world is passing them by and that their dreams are growing cold. They start to lose touch. Many of them even come to think that the world was a better place when they were younger and that things have gotten out of hand. They can’t relate anymore so they turn their backs on the world. Too many of them linger on for years, and even decades, living lives of forfeit.

Well, there’s no way I’m copping out like that. I’ve just got to find a way to get my groove back (but sure as hell not like Stella did). I won’t be doing it by following the advice of others, though. Each person is appointed the task of finding the meaning or purpose of his or her own life. However, once a path is chosen, it’s often strayed from, and the only person who can find it again is the one who chose it in the first place. Some people lose their way and turn to religion in order to attach some meaning to their own existence. Not me, though. I’m not joining some cult just to gain a false sense of purpose or belonging.

Me?…
Until I’m completely back on the right path, I’m turning to beer. That’s right, good old draft beer. All I’ve got to do is finish the work week and make it through to Sunday. That’s my purpose. See you then, Neil, JT, and TC.

As for Aaron and Abe, I’ll leave that for next time…

I come from San Francisco and go to school in Portland. My whole life, marijuana has been illegal enough to slightly inconvenience would-be smokers, but barely more. The consensus tends to be that it’s much less harmful than alcohol, an excellent appetite-inducement tool for those going through chemotherapy, and a good alternative to opiate painkillers.

This is not the case in Japan, where four students at my school were just arrested, and will likely be imprisoned and later deported, for marijuana possession. I received an “urgent” email from Waseda in my inbox today, and on clicking it, I was presented with the following on the student web portal:

Warning Against Illegal Drug Usage

As has been widely reported by the mass media, many people have recently been arrested
for involvement with illegal drugs. For the younger generation, especially university
students, there is a great temptation to engage in drug-related activity. This has become
an extremely serious social issue, partly because the smoking of cannabis (or marijuana)
is so easily done, no special devices or equipment being necessary for its recreational
use – it is simply smoked like a cigarette…..

…Tempting words are often used to lure people into drugs: “Recover from your
fatigue,” “Refresh your mind,” “Take the easy route to dieting.” Such encouragement is
vicious and despicable, first of all because the information is based on falsehood.
Secondly, and far more importantly, those who are foolish enough to fall for such lures
all too often end up physically and mentally ruined, perhaps leading lives of crime.
There is no “innocent” or “harmless” way to take illegal drugs. In Japan, possession
alone is sufficient to lead to the most dire of social punishments. Engaging in drug-
related activity is utter stupidity.

DO NOT BECOME INVOLVED IN ILLEGAL DRUGS!

Does this memo represent a wholly ignorant, paranoid viewpoint on marijuana? Of course. On the other hand, I have little sympathy for the smokers- they knew what they were getting into, and risking imprisonment, a permanent ban from the country, and a crippling impediment to future job searches is pretty stupid, too. For more info: Waseda Weekly article on the incident (were this America, the student paper would be a pro/con piece, if not an outright rebuttal to the administration). Good article at Japan Probe about “Japan’s Growing Marijuana Problem.” Asahi Shinbun article on the arrests. This is a cross-post from Shack in Japan

Tokyo has one of the most detailed and efficient train systems in the world. A person would be hard-pressed to find a place in Tokyo which cannot be easily reached by train. The trains are very clean, well kept, and most importantly, on time. Sadly, however, a ride on a train in Tokyo is also one of the most depressing experiences in the city.

When I was just making trips to Tokyo I did not notice the ice cold vibe of the train system. Now that I live in Tokyo, the daily cold shoulder the trains offer is like a brick to the face. Too often whenever I step foot on a train in Tokyo, I feel like I am either attending a funeral or being rushed off to a hot war zone. Most people maintain such a grim expression on their faces that if the train made a stop at hell station, the devil would opt to wait for the next one.

My daily commute to and from work is never made any more pleasant by the atmosphere on the train. In the mornings, the trains are filled with men dressed in the most bland colors one could choose for a suit. They all look like they are off to serve a wicked corporate master who long ago claimed their soul. There is not one inch of happiness in these people. I cannot tell which they hate most; themselves or the job they are about to slave away at for countless hours. They have the ability to even lower the lighting on the train. The trains in Tokyo have very bright lights but if I stand up and look at all the people somehow the lights seem to dim. Everything inside the train seems to take on a blue&gray tint. It is like I have walked into a David Lynch movie. Any second I expect one of the salary men to look me right in the eye and say, “I am the devil. I have come for your soul.”

The evening commute gets a little better, but only on the Yamanote line. The Yamanote line does come alive with colors and sound in the evening hours. Still, there is this strange feeling that I just cannot shake. Some people talk but for the most part a silence as if the Emperor just died overpowers the senses. On trains in Tokyo it can get so silent in fact that you can hear the light snoring sounds of people sleeping. It is a common sight to get on the train and see nothing but people dead silent with their heads down trying to avoid having any contact with other humans. While sometimes a gang of loud school girls or a small group of happy drunks break the silence, usually a sad bunch of people rides inside of a speeding hunk of metal without saving a word to each other.

In Tokyo, people work their asses off from sunup to sundown so I expect there are a lot of tired people riding the train just trying to reach the comfort of their homes. Although, I refuse to accept this as an excuse to get on the train and behave as if the world and everything in it is dark and ugly. The vibe on trains in Tokyo must to be a factor to the high suicide rate. It is bad enough that many people are overworked and underpaid. After a long work day they have to get on a train that sends a message to them saying, “You’re right. The world sucks, people are mean and cold, and your life sucks as well. Why don’t you just get off the train and toss yourself in front of the next one that comes by.”

Maybe it would be good for Tokyo if people lightened up a little on the train. Smile at each other once in a while. Say “hello” or ask how the person beside you is feeling today. Give your seat up to the old lady struggling to stay standing up. Do something other than have a grim look on your face and a screw-you attitude whenever anyone looks at you. Please! This dark train attitude is only making people more depressed than they already feel each and everyday. Maybe the free-hugs people should get on the train and start hugging people. Just start hugging people while saying an “I love you” to everyone. Hell, it might actually work.

Anyway, train behavior in Tokyo can be pretty depressing sometimes. This still does not stop me from loving living in Tokyo. I would just like to see the train experience be a bit more of a happy one.

I’ll be honest — it would be a lot easier to write about a bad day in Tokyo than a good one.

After two years, The Big T and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms. If we were roommates, I don’t think we’d be speaking to each other right now. We probably wouldn’t even be taking each other’s phone messages.

Aah, Tokyo.

How you never fail to disappoint.

Your rent is expensive, your citizens rude, your public transportation packed with Kobolds wielding +1 Briefcases of Smacking Me on the Way Out. You are brash and abrasive, modern and yet painfully low-tech — my Suica card can pay for my train fare, bus fare, and a beer at the convenience store when I can’t take any more of your fuckery, yet the neighbors down the street keep their dingy washing machine connected to a garden hose outside their apartment.

And as for hospitality, your former Minister of Land，Infrastructure，Transport and Tourism resigned after claiming that Japan was ethnically homogeneous and its people didn’t like foreigners. Yes, this was the guy in charge of tourism.

Frankly, it gives me a sense of pleasure to see us turning the tide on you, Tokyo; to see this outmoded sakoku mentality turned on its head. I work in an area with a high concentration of foreign laborers, and like members of Project Mayhem, we have infiltrated your offices, your restaurants, your convenience stores… All your Lawson are belong to us.

Aah, Tokyo.

It may come as a shock, but even a rampant complainer like me has been able to make friends here. Yet Tokyo is such a sprawl, such a loose confederate of isolated pocket cities that the simple act of meeting up requires an insulting amount of phoning and planning and text messaging. Because God forbid we should, you know, be located less than an hour and a half and three transfers away and actually able to drop by one another’s houses.

Put simply: Tokyo, you kind of suck.

And yet…

Your people, while rude as hell, don’t stare at me like I have a third arm growing out of my head. On most days, vendors assume I actually can speak Japanese rather than I can’t. If I’m in the mood for salsa, tortillas and refried beans — which would have entailed a 45-minute train ride, or been completely unavailable, in my previous haunts — all it takes is a short bike ride down the street. Your liquor stores let me buy some of my favorite beers, off-the-wall brews from England and Belgium and Ceylon that would be impossible to find in my hometown back in the U.S. Yet here they are, just a short walk away.

On most days, Tokyo, you royally piss me off.

But sometimes, when I’m taking a walk around the back alleys of Azabu, or having a beer and soaking in the laid-back, retro feel of Yurakucho… Sometimes when I’m meeting up with friends and making new ones at a wonderfully craptastic bar in Ikebukuro… Sometimes when I’m in Roppongi and an apparently homeless fellow walking down the street and smacking bushes with a long stick turns to me and in extremely well accented English says, “Hi, how are you?” …

Sometimes Tokyo, in spite of your best efforts, I find myself liking you.

If only people would stop throwing themselves in front of the trains.

By day, Ginza is Tokyo’s ritziest shopping district, a boulevard of “burandohin” (name-brand imports) flagship stores, tourists and Japanese dressed to the nines, and depressingly expensive restaurants. It’s got some cool stuff, to be sure- the Sony showroom is geek heaven- but not really the sort of place I care to (or could afford to) hang out.

Last night, however, I got to see the real Ginza. By night, Ferraris and Maseratis pull in front of lavish hotels, and valets take the keys from scowling, middle-aged, designer-suited businessmen.  These aren’t the stoic salarymen of the morning commute, nor the tipsy new-hires I run into on the train Friday nights, trying to fit binge drinking with both classmates and coworkers around a 10-hour workday. The denizens of Ginza hanging out on the street (at least the ones I got to see) are assholes: loud, raucous, scornful pricks, enabled by their lucrative salaries to not care the least about anyone or anything. I heard one group loudly mocking my friend’s English, something I’ve never run across in this country, and saw another group break into a fight that ended up with one guy (and the $5000 of clothes on him) in a hotel fountain. あぶない.

(I know that not all the people in Ginza at night fall into this mold; these guys were just the most noticable as I walked down the street. Inside the restaurants and bars, the customers and staff are all polite and classy, though the men are still much colder than, say, the ones you would find in a normal Izaka-ya)

My host was a very nice guy, however, a well-off man whom, by way of a complicated chain of connections, ended up taking my friends and I out first for the best hamburger of my life, and then to a Ginza club for drinks. There’s not much to say about the hamburger, save that it was mind-blowingly delicious. We ate in Akasaka, near my internship at SAKK.

The Ginza club, however, was something else. I wish I had photos, but it just didn’t feel right- I already felt like I was privy to a sight not meant for outside eyes, and I didn’t want to mark myself as a tourist any more than I already was (picture dressing to meet an old friend for drinks at a bar by a train station, and then ending up at a board meeting). The club was extravagant, from the gilded and art-laden walls to the private reserve bourbons filling the crystal cabinets. Everything screamed opulence. The tables are scattered around a carpeted floor, surrounded by posh leather sofas and chairs.

When you order drinks at one of these clubs, you don’t just get tasty liquor, you also get beautiful women to serve and chat with you. These ladies are dead classy, from the mid-twenties up to the mid-thirties, and wear either kimono or gorgeous designer dresses. They’re not prostitutes in the least- they do nothing more than pour drinks for the customer and keep him company- but it’s still unlike anything I’ve run into before. Nightlife moguls may get similar treatment in American lounges, but the spectacle of sitting down at a restaurant and having several beautiful women immediately come over and pour drinks, light cigarettes, talk with you, and pretend you’re the most interesting person they’ve ever met was just odd.

(Japanese people are into this sort of thing- from maid cafes to host/hostess bars, men and women alike pay premiums for institutionalized companionship of the opposite sex, even when there’s absolutely no chance of interaction outside the bar or store)

I think that one part of the oddity was that it didn’t seem like something special enough to pay for. Yes, everything was the height of class, but going out drinking with friends, women included, isn’t something hard to do in Tokyo, at least for a college student. The conversation I had with these girls could be substituted in for any number of first-time meetings. While I got what was so special about the location (the decor, the alcohol, the manners and clothes of the staff), I didn’t really get the “pay a girl to talk to you” thing. I guess if you’re rich, but have bad luck with women, it would be kind of nice, but most of the businessmen I saw in there looked like they would have no problem finding a nice girl to take out. The idea of paying to flirt with girls whom you’ll never see outside of the lounge they work in just doesn’t quite come together in my mind. I’ve heard the same sentiments from many non-Japanese, unable to reconcile the idea of non-sexual (or at least, not-leading-to-sex) paid companionship, and  one of the better-written explanations I’ve found comes from an article in The Standard titled “My Month as a Poor Man’s Geisha”:

It was their job to try to touch us, our job to not let them. It was all a part of the game, the knowing laughter, the glow of mischief, the moment they nearly crossed the line just to make us draw it again. In many ways the hostess bar recreated the atmosphere of childhood, a space devoted to pure play and indulgence, but with the boundaries that allowed it to be pleasurable. The fact that the female manager of such a club is called mama-san is no coincidence. Taking care to mark the limits of the customers’ desire relieved them of the responsibility to control it…

…After all, hostess bar customers weren’t really looking for a lapdance or a peep show, they could have easily gotten those elsewhere and for far cheaper.

The question remains - why were they here? What were they looking for?

Yes, they wanted the fantasy of sex, but also they wanted the fantasy of
romance. Of the perfect girlfriend, who is always ready for drinking, flirtation and fun, but who disappears at the end of the night, no strings attached. They wanted a world apart from the daily cares of the working world, where they could be simultaneously be children and kings of the castle.

This bar wasn’t a hostess bar per se- there was no groping, no karaoke, no raunchiness- but the fantasy of romance, the escapism and the idea of a perfect, flawless evening, persisted. No matter what they drink, how they drink it, what they care to talk about, or what their mood, the customers can expect nothing but the pleasant buzz of quality alcohol and meandering conversation, an atmosphere of relaxed decadence, and affirmation by beautiful, elegant female companionship.

That said, I can’t remember the name of the 30-year old whiskey we drank, but it was the best liquor I’ve ever had. I never saw a menu; I get the impression you ask for what you want, and it tends to be there. If it’s not, the problem is probably less their selection than your poor taste in alcohol. They brought champagne and cake later (both incredible) for one of the girls’ birthdays, and we all sang her “Happy Birthday,” which I found hilarious. My friends and I shared “What the hell is this place, and how did we get here?” glances, and our host seemed pleasantly bemused at our disorientation. It was an amazing time, and I savored every minute of it, partly because I never expect to end up anywhere like that any time soon.

I had a date that night, and we had originally planned to meet up at Shibuya around 11:30. When we got to Ginza, I told our host that I probably needed to cut out to go meet my friend, and he told me to just have her come here instead. She was a little confused when I told her to go to Shinbashi instead of Shibuya, and more so when I led her down into a tucked-away businessman’s club, but I explained the odd set of circumstances that put me there, and she joined in enjoying the weird, wonderful situation. Our host dropped us all off in Shinjuku later, and we hung out at an Izakaya until first train.

(cross-post from Shack in Japan)

When I first started 7:10 to Tokyo, I asked several fellow bloggers for help, particularly contributions to the site in the form of articles. A person who helped me greatly at that time was Shane Sakata. She provided interesting content and helped attract readers to the site. I have always been grateful for her help and hope she knows just how much her support has meant to 7:10 to Tokyo and me personally.

Well, that version of 7:10 is a memory now, but a couple of Shane’s classic contributions were brought over to 7:10’s new incarnation: “Unexploded Bombs in Tokyo - How Many Are Out There?” and “Reflections on Unexploded Bombs in Japan.” After making several contributions to 7:10 to Tokyo, she invested most of her blogging time in her main blog, The Tokyo Traveler, a b5media site. After a half a year of successfully running that site, Shane decided to go independent and has recently started her own online Japan travel and culture magazine, The Nihon Sun.

I recently asked Shane for an interview and she was kind enough to oblige with well-thought-out answers. Here’s how the interview went:

Why do you blog about Japan?
Blogging about Japan is a way for me to share some of the things about Japan that fascinate me. I have been blessed with the opportunity to live here for a second time and when I was searching for information about the country I found it difficult to find more that a few anecdotes about the various places. My curiosity runs deeper than a snap shot and a few worlds so I started to blog about some of the interesting places that I have (or want to visit) while attempting to capture a little bit beyond what you can find in a guide book. I love the odd little facts and trivia ….

What do you do when not blogging?
When I’m not blogging I love to cook and I’ve been known to frequent Daiso for a bargain shopping fix and for spending far too much money on yarn and other crafting supplies at Yuzawaya. I’m also a bit of a photography buff and am working up the nerve to take my Nikon D40X off of the automatic settings.

What aspect of living in Japan do you like the best? The least?
I like pretty much everything about living in Japan - I love not driving, biking or walking to the grocery store, the lovely parks and gardens, and the great food. My lack of language skills can be frustrating at times - I meet a lot of people who I just know have something interesting to say but we can’t communicate beyond a very basic level.

If I had to list a pet peeve it would be the lack of eye contact in public places but it’s not the eye contact per se, it’s the fact that if you don’t look at someone you don’t have to acknowledge their existence. I’ll give you an example…I am 5′8″ and have started to notice that there are a lot of Japanese people who will cut me off while walking on the street or in train stations. As a relatively tall women and I am often struck by the bravery of the much smaller Japanese women, and some men, who just barrel through in front of me. If the roles were reversed I would be scared of being mowed down by a larger person. But if they just keep their head down and don’t make eye contact it seems as if those around them are a bit dehumanized and they don’t have to be concerned about the feelings, or toes, of those around them.

What are two random blogs you read on a daily basis? (Japan-related or not)
I check JapanSoc and NewsOnJapan daily to keep up to date on what is happening in Japan and I keep tabs on a number of other blogs via my feedreader. Some of the blogs in my feedreader are Ping Mag, Jacked In by Jason Collins, Narrative Disorder by DBR, tonymcnicol.com - tokyo photojournalist and of course 7:10 to Tokyo. That’s more than two - sorry…

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Now that’s a tough question! I don’t really have a five year plan but my shorter term goal is to develop a community at The Nihon Sun and I will continue to hone my writing and photography skills. I believe that whether or not I remain in Japan that I will continue to be fascinated by the people, culture and history of this very interesting and multi-faceted country for some time to come.

Again, I can’t thank Shane enough for her help and wish her the best of luck with her new website. You can see for yourself more of what fascinates Shane about Japan at www.nihonsun.com.

That morning, I rode the local train into Shibuya Station. It was a cloudy day and a slight chill hung in the air reminding the residents of Tokyo that Autumn was about to get into full-swing and winter would soon be on the way. Though I usually spend most weekends with friends, I had that entire day unreserved and all to myself. With no appointments to keep and a long-since-felt sense of relaxation, I drifted over to a favorite cafe of mine just down the street from the station and sat down to a lazy session of coffee-drinking, people-watching and daydreaming.

As was usual, however, my thoughts turned inward and I started thinking about my future plans here in Tokyo, particularly the goals I’ve set for myself in the next year or so. When this happens, the little notebook I carry, as well as a worn-down ballpoint pen come out and the ink starts flying. From there, time loses its meaning and before long, I’ve spent an hour or two filling up 4 or 5 pages with notes and calculations. This time, I even let my coffee get cold while it was still only around halfway finished.

Upon wincing at the shock of supposed-to-be-hot-but-actually-quite-cold coffee hitting my lips, I quickly set the cup down and decided to get another. When I had stood completely up, I noticed her. I froze and stared straight ahead at the woman who had made my life a living hell for several months last year. I thought I’d never see her again, yet there she was. She wasn’t looking at me, and I thought for a moment about quickly ducking into a corner until she passed. But, that’s just not me; I refuse to live like a prisoner when I’ve done nothing to deserve the loss of my personal freedom. That’s a big part of why I left her after a year of living together. I won’t go into the details of how she tortured so many of my waking and sleeping hours, but trust me when I say that there are few people in this world who I’d wish that sort of experience on.

Anyway, she was standing at a traffic signal, getting ready to cross the street. Several people gathered there around her, also with the intention of crossing over to the other side. Soon, I lost sight of her and the changing of the signal from red to green brought a sudden rush of pedestrians into the intersection and she was gone for good from that place on that day. I stood there motionless while out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind whipped my hair all about my forehead and face. Noticing then that several customers who had just purchased their cups of coffee, tea, or whatever were weaving themselves through the maze of tables looking for places to sit, I decided to vacate the shop and head back to the station, but not before grabbing another coffee, this time to go.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and early part of the evening visiting some of the various parts of Tokyo that I had planned to visit that day, taking photos and sometimes notes. I even talked for awhile to a man and his wife after they stopped me to ask to take their picture. After the sun set, I decided to call it a day, and with several planned destinations yet unreached, I headed back to my new apartment.

When I got back to my neighborhood station, I exited the building and began my short walk home. However, my stomach started telling me that it was time to stop in at my local Sukiya and put away a bowl of gyu-don. Not being in the mood to protest, I obliged my growling friend and did just what it told me to do.

I wolfed down my order, paid my bill, and hit the road home again. As I rounded the final corner before arriving at my place, it happened again. There she was, dressed differently than she was earlier, but the hairstyle hadn’t changed. Then, she quickly turned and faced me. Was that sudden turn in my direction a response to a gasp that I might have let out? Did I gasp at all? It was hard to tell since I was paralyzed, watching everything from behind unblinking eyes. As her eyes met mine, my body suddenly loosened up and I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t her after all. But, this new development led me to wonder if I’d really even seen her earlier at all. Was it someone else? Had I made a mistake?

Well, over the next couple of weeks, that sort of incident repeated itself at least 5 times. Why was I seeing her face everywhere? Was there some unfinished business between us after all? I tried not to think about it too much, but the shock of these little incidents each time they happened left me more and more unnerved with each event.

Eventually, these little episodes stopped happening and I was soon able to forget about them most of the time. However, I sometimes can’t escape the feeling that there’s some kind of day of reckoning laying ahead in the not-too-distant future, even though I know the notion is absurd.

How about you? Do your personal demons haunt you sometimes?

The recent 7:10 to Tokyo article, Unexploded WWII Bombs In Japan- How Many Are Out There?, provoked some interesting responses but it came as a bit of a surprise to hear from someone who was actually on the ground in Japan disposing of these remnants from WWII.  Roy Kasier took an interest this article and provided a lot of food for thought in his well-researched comments. Roy had a fifteen year career in Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) for the US Army and spent three of those years (1967-1970) at Ikego Army Ammunition Depot in Kanagawa Prefecture.  He has generously agreed to share some insights on how bombs work, how they are disposed of and has provided some interesting newspaper clippings from the time. Roy retired in 1976, after 24 years of service. He often recalls the time he served with the 97^th and fondly remembers the great guys he served with.

The 97^th Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) was the last US Army Explosive Ordnance unit stationed in Japan (deactivated in 1970) and was based in Zushi City, about 40 kilometers (25 miles) outside of Tokyo.   Roy was assigned to this unit from 1967 - 1970 and recalls participating in the disposal of three unexploded bombs (UXB) during that period.   In his comments on Unexploded WWII Bombs In Japan- How Many Are Out There?, he states that between November 1, 1944 and August 15, 1945 American B29 Superfortresses dropped more than 11,000 bombs, weighing 500 pounds or more, on Tokyo alone, destroying 51% of what is now the worlds largest city.  Historically 5-20% of military high explosive munitions fail to function as intended (duds). Given those failure rates somewhere between 500 and 2,200 unexploded bombs would have been left behind after WWII.

So why didn’t theses bombs detonate?  Roy explains that the general purpose, high explosive, bombs that were dropped on Japan had three main types of fuses resulting in detonation on impact (nose and tail impact inertia fuse), detonation after surface penetration (tail impact inertia fuse), or delayed action detonation up to 144 hours after impact (tail fuse).

When a bomb is dropped an arming wire is normally withdrawn from the arming vane, which looks like a little windmill, and the vane then rotates a rod that arms the fuse which causes the bomb to detonate. If the bomb came out of the plane without the arming wires being extracted the bomb would impact the ground without detonating and would leave a penetration hole rather than an explosion crater.  Another possibility is that the bomb’s firing pin could fail to strike the detonator or get hung up by some type of obstruction, in which case the bomb could detonate with the least disturbance.  To further complicate matters, most bombs had an anti-withdrawal feature that prevents the adapter booster and fuse from being unscrewed from the bomb by a locking pin.  If an attempt was made remove this portion of the bomb, the licking pin would activate the fuse and the bomb would detonate.

After a bombing raid, Japanese civil defense officials would scour the area bombed to look for impact craters.  US UXB reconnaissance procedures would include probing the penetration hole with a long non-magnetic rod to determine the trajectory of the bomb and its final resting place. The location of the bombs would then be recorded on a map similar to the one that you see below.

Once an unexploded ordinance is located, a variety of different disposal methods are available to the EOD teams.  The decision is often a difficult one as there is a need to balance risk to the EOD team with magnitude of the damage that would result if the unexploded bomb were to detonate.  The options include remote on-site detonation, removal and transport to a remote destination for disarming and/or detonation, or a hands on disarming of the ordnance on-site.  The latter method carries the most risk for the EOD team and is only utilized to protect lives, very important property, materials, or facilities. The safest way to dispose of UXB is to evacuate the area, take measures to protect against blast damage, and then detonate the bomb in place. This option is usually not available in densely populated areas like Tokyo.

Tanashi, Tokyo, January 1969

A 500lb HE bomb was found with a M123 chemical long delay anti-withdrawal fuse.  The Japanese Ground Self Defense Force (JGSDF) asked the asked the Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) unit from Ikego Army Ammunition Depot to take on the job of rendering the bomb safe.  It was determined that blowing up the bomb in place with a full scale detonation was not the best way to go because the bomb was located next to houses, a railway station and a hospital.

The commanding officer, Lt Lanier, recommended that a sand bag barricade be built around the bomb to reduce damage to the area in the event of a full-scale detonation or contain the damage that would result from a partial detonation. It took 60 men from JGSDF, 10 hours to fill 8,000 sand bags and erect the barricade based on the specifications of the American EOD team. Roy said “I was amazed when I saw the sand bag barricade. It was big!”

The Assistant EOD Supervisor of the 97^th SFC Albertson, a WWII EOD veteran who had retired and returned to active service, mentioned that sometimes the personnel fusing these bombs were in a hurry and failed to insert the locking pin in the adapter booster. This was a long shot but the team though it was worth investigating. Lt, Lanier and Roy climbed over the sand bag barricade and studied the bomb for a few moments. It was apparent that the bomb had been moved at some point and had not detonated so they decided to see if there was a locking pin. They applied gentle pressure to adapter booster in a counter clockwise direction, expecting to meet the resistance of the locking pin, but there was no resistance. It turned out that SFC Albertson’s long shot was right, there was no locking pin, and the adapter booster with fuse came right out of the bomb. It took just a few minutes render this 500 lb bomb safe!

Inokashira Park, Tokyo, 1969

Shortly after disposing of the Tanashi bomb the EOD team was told of another UXB that was in the process of being excavated in Inokashira Park about 20 minutes by train from Tokyo’s Shinjuku Station. It became a concern after another bomb in the park had detonated for no apparent reason. Excavation of the bomb was complicated by the fact that the site kept flooding with water. The JGSDF engineers excvated and 15 foot hole, reinforced it with metal pipes and set up a system to pump water from the excavation site.

A few days later the area was evacuated and the EOD team went to work.  First the discovered that someone had sawed off the arming stem adapter plug, which is one of the ways the EOD team identifies the type of bomb they are dealing with. Roy tells us that this and the jackhammers that were used around the bomb were “bad things to do” and says that it was fortunate that these efforts did not cause the bomb to detonate. He went on to say that “Since the bomb had been subject to so much rough treatment during the excavation without detonating, and the successful experience with the Tanashi bomb we thought a procedure from a WWII disposal manual was worth a try.”

Roy was at the control point that had been set up some distance from the bomb and was in constant contact with the technicians at the bombsite via wired communications.  This time the adapter booster was locked in and it took about 2 hours, several modifications of tools and several trips back and forth between the control point and the bomb site before the adapter booster and fuse were successfully removed and separated from the bomb.  The adapter booster, still containing the fuse was well sand-bagged and transported to Ikego Army Ammunition Depot where the fuse was remotely removed from the adapter booster and the adapter booster was destroyed.   A few days later, while stored under a sand bag, the fuse functioned, setting off the detonator.

The Bomb that Did a U-turn

The third UXB disposal that Roy participated in was pretty much routine and occurred some time prior to the incidents above. The only notable thing about this disposal for Roy was that the shaft dug to access the bomb went down and then off to one side in order to expose the tail of the bomb for disposal. The bomb had penetrated the ground, somehow made a U turn, and was pointed toward the surface!

The cost to dispose of the Inokashira Park bomb was $38,892 in 1969 which is over $220 thousand US dollars today and Roy explains how the decision to dispose of a bomb that has survived more than 50 years of earthquake activity, surrounding construction and the daily rumblings of train and automobile traffic boils down to economic practicality and requires the careful consideration of the cost involved in the excavation and disposal versus the risk that the bomb will detonate.  Roy says that “Let sleeping dogs lie” is often the chosen approach until, for one reason or another, the unexploded ordinance becomes a present day problem as it did with the Chofu bomb that was the inspiration for the Unexploded WWII Bombs In Japan- How Many Are Out There? article.

Roy doesn’t believe that there should be a excessive concern surrounding unexploded bombs that still remain in Japan and says that the JGSDF EOD teams have proven their skill and professionalism in rendering safe and and disposing of unexploded ordinance time and time again.  He goes on to remind us that the Japanese are not alone, Britain and Germany also have the same problem resulting from the bombings that they were subject to during WWII.  Recent conflicts have brought a modern era UXO problem of cluster bombs and land mines to several other countries. Roy considers his 15 year career in EOD a “walk in the park” when compared to exceedingly more dangerous environment faced today by EOD personnel in Vietnam, Afghanistan an Iraq where they are often shot at, targeted by a roadside bombs, and have secondary bombs set up to detonate in the vicinity while the EOD team is responding to an incident.  He says that EOD personnel have become prime targets and their job is much more difficult and stressful that when he did it back in 1969.

I would personally like to thank Roy for sharing his insights into the fascinating subject and tip my hat to all of the current and retired EOD technicians out there, in Japan and elsewhere, whose dangerous work allows all of us to go on with our daily lives safely.

Lastly, Roy reminds us all that if we ever come across an UXB, we should consider it armed and very dangerous. Do not disturb it and call local authorities immediately.