$4.25 for a what?

Living in the United States, breadbasket (and corn bushel) of the world that it is, it’s really easy to get used to the idea that food is cheap. Just looking at my weekly Safeway circular, I see whole chickens for $1.69/pound (buy one get another free), pork ribs for $1.79/pound, apples for 99¢/pound, and oranges practically there for the taking ($2.99 for an 8 pound bag). Part of this, I’m sure, is that I live in California, specifically, land of fruits and nuts that it is, but the basic premise remains.

Compare this to Japan, where an apple costs at least ¥398 (about $4.25 at time of this writing). That’s one apple. You can see it off to the right. It’s a beautiful apple, uniformly frosted red all around, and it’s pretty big big enough to make me spread my fingers a bit when I hold it, but it’s just one apple all the same.

Truly, I live in a land of plenty.

On the other hand, I wonder sometimes if we pay something for that abundance. It’s easy to think of food as a commodity, to think that one apple is the same as another, but that really isn’t the case. Food is a biological product, the end-result of some living thing and the environment around it, its lineage, handling, and care. For example, the Red Delicious is very red, but it’s only nominally delicious, because it’s been bred to be harvested early, in enormous quantities, and trucked across the continent. On the other end of the spectrum, Japanese farmers have made a science out of growing delicious, picture-perfect apples. That apple was simply better, crisper, sweeter, and better-balanced than anything I’ve ever bought at Safeway (or Whole Paycheck, for that matter, or even farmer’s markets and freeway-side stands), and I would love the chance to indulge in more, if only once in a while. At $4.25 each, Japanese apples could get almost as expensive as a bad Starbuck’s habit.

In Japan, though, that was more-or-less a standard apple, and by Japanese standards, it was quite reasonably priced. I found apples just like mine in every grocery store I visited, at train station fruit vendors, and sometimes in department stores and even 7-11s. Japanese consumers expect apples of that quality, and they’re willing to pay for them, so there are no cheap apples, only precious, semi-rare treats. Here in the United States, I’m guessing, we don’t and aren’t, so apples are cheap and plentiful, everyday in every meaning of the word.

I wonder, what does this say about them? What does it say about us?

First and Last and Always

For Hannah, because she made a difference.

Even with his heart pounding in time to the DJ’s command, a hundred and twenty-six beats per minute, Jamie could feel the one it skipped. Someone was watching him; he’d felt it, uncoiling a tight, nervous desire from the base of his spine, sliding it up his back until it made the hairs on his neck stand on end and his knees go weak, made him excited and just a little scared.

For months he’d walked past the door here, stolen glances past the curtain at the slender, pretty boys dancing together here, taking each other home, but he’d never dared step in before. Now he wasn’t sure whether he should have come. Someone would notice him; someone would tell; people would know; they would be polite of course, nothing overt. It was the twenty-first century after all, but he would hear their whispers, notice their sideways glances in his direction, and he would move again, unable to cope, unwilling to be that token friend, unwilling to be treated so differently. It wasn’t his fault he’d been born this way.

But there was that look. It promised so much.

Mistaken Identity in Modern Japan

I’ve been in Japan for the past week and change now, and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to post. It’s been a wonderful experience, and I hope to come back in the future.

A detective stopped me in the Akihabara police station and asked to see my identification, but he seemed to lose interest almost immediately once I took it out, and he only gave it a cursory glance-over. I couldn’t understand why he did that, until later when I was fishing around for my rail pass. If I have a particularly large load in my upper left pockets, I realized, my jacket makes it look a little like I’m wearing a shoulder holster. Handguns are highly illegal in Japan, so naturally I think he felt compelled to investigate. Really that was a very clever trick – he stood off to the side slightly while I did this, enough to get a look into my jacket and see that the bulge was just a pocket full of wallet, papers, and other random bits that tourists pick up. It stayed low-key, he was in full control the whole time, and I didn’t even realize he thought something was wrong until much afterwards.

A few days later, on a much lighter note, I visited an onsen bath, about an hour south of Tokyo proper. The hostess mistook me for a girl at first and nearly handed me a key to the women’s locker room. She caught herself in time. It’s not the first time that’s happened to me, and I’m used to laughing it off (really I think it’s a nice sort of compliment).

It’s been a little bit of a whirlwind overview tour, and I’m still a bit shocked that it’s coming to an end. Right now it’s some ungodly-o-clock and I’ve been traveling all day, so I’ll post more pictures when I get a chance.

Let’s Try This Again…

Life is still weird. It actually got weirder since the last time I posted. I’m getting used to it, though.

I haven’t done much writing in the past couple weeks, but I think I’m ready to start up again. One of the handwritten First and Last and Always pages got wet somehow, and I have to rewrite it. That should be a good place to start; it’ll be nice to build up some momentum. Some free time is coming up on my horizon, so here’s hoping everything will fall into place.

In the news: Last week, a high school in Mississippi decided to cancel their prom rather than allow a lesbian couple to attend. It plays straight into stereotype, unfair as it may be; another high school there held out until 2008 to hold its first racially-integrated prom. People can be stubborn like that, I guess.

Stepping up to the plate, supporters of the Mississippi Safe Schools Coalition (a queer-youth advocacy group) have pledged enough money to hold a “second-chance” prom that would welcome all students, regardless of orientation. I hope it succeeds.

I’m OK, Just Behind

I’m still around, if anyone’s wondering. Last week’s delay wasn’t my situation, per se. A friend of mine has been floating around in a bad roomie situation lately, so I made a one-night reservation at a hotel nearby and went up to visit. It got her out of the house for one night to destress and get her head on straight.

That was the idea, at least. In the grand scheme of things, I know, one night isn’t much.

When I got back, I cancelled my preorders for Assassin’s Creed II and Settlers VII. In case you haven’t heard the news, Ubisoft has developed a copy-protection system that requires a continuous connection to their servers. As interesting as the games are, that kind of disconnection yoyo is more trouble than it’s worth, and I don’t trust Ubisoft to keep their servers online once the game stops selling. There are plenty of other games to keep me occupied, and even when there aren’t, I should spend more time writing. Even with the weekend out, I shouldn’t be this far behind.

After I make myself some lunch, I’ll go work on First and Last and Always again. We’ll see. Given the complications that keep coming up, I’m going to stop announcing specific posting days. Right now, all I’ll say is “soon”. Poke me and see what I’m up to; I’ve pretty much been asking for it.