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.

Track him down and say hello!

(Hint: He is usually sheathed up to the neck in black and wears a lot of leather. Also, he has kitty ears with purple fluff!)

Please do not dry-hump him without asking for permission first. It perturbs him.

There is no Oakland General Hospital. Oakland is served by Highland General Hospital. It’s 9:00 at night and I don’t know this, not without looking it up. When I lived in the East Bay, I went to the Tang Center on the Berkeley campus. “Five dollars?” It’s the Christmas season. Even if she’s lying, I can afford five dollars. She needs it more than I do. I reach for my wallet.

“Oh, thank you, sir, you know ten dollars would help even more.”

The gears in my head turn, clicking into place, and I drop my wallet back into my pocket. Kindness is an important virtue, but I don’t appreciate being jerked around for a sucker. She watches me expectantly as I stand there, my hand inside my jacket. “Tell you what… no. But…”

“Please, even a few dollars…”

I cough. “If you can wait five minutes, I’ll take my laundry back home, come back, and drive you there myself.”

She takes a step back. “Oh, no, I couldn’t ask for that…”

“You didn’t. I’m offering.”

“No, I should really take the bus…”

“I’ll get you there faster.”

“No, sir, it’s OK, just a couple dollars…”

I shake my head and give her a few singles before I head into the laundromat. Sometimes it’s OK to play the sucker. She needs it more than I do.

When the things we want are out of reach, we give thanks for the things we need.

Some people are struggling to have even that.

I’m listing a few today; to each of these people, it’s been at least a year since we’ve spoken; to each of these people, I’d like to speak with you again.

This post is one part message-in-a bottle, one part game. I’m listing four names here, four people I haven’t been able to reach in at least a year. I invite you to add as few or as many of your own memories to the list as you’d like. If I’m very lucky, some people may reconnect here.

If any of you are reading, You Are Not Forgotten. If any of you are reading, I’d like to speak with you again.

Alisha Found!: Five and a half years ago I was in high school (Class of 2002) and Alisha was a casual friend, an artsy girl from the Pacific Northwest who baffled me and always had interesting stories to tell. She helped me with some of my first steps out of the awkward, science-and-numbers shell I had as a kid, but when we graduated I lost touch with her. The phone number she wrote in my yearbook serves as a fax line to a real-estate company now. Probably she wouldn’t recognize me today (from that far back I don’t think I would recognize myself), but I think she would approve. She’s made it very difficult for the high school to find her. I knew there was a reason I liked her.

Melody: Melody was a student at the California Culinary Academy when I met her, back in September 2003. She wore a fairy shirt and a hemp necklace, and she carried a case of cooking knives beside her. I don’t remember how we started talking, but I do remember her as a very intelligent, very well-adjusted girl, one of the most pleasantly memorable people I’ve ever met on the BART and probably my happiest memory connected to the Folsom Street Fair (where I was headed when I met her). She’s doing well for herself, I’m sure, but once or twice a year I wonder how exactly her story goes.

“Banwynn Oakshadow”: I’m not sure actually if the link goes to the right person. The Banwynn I spoke to was a writer when I spoke to him last; we talked for hours on the phone and planned to meet at cafe sometime in Berkeley, but life intervened and he moved away. It’s been years, though, and hobbies fade away sometimes.

RienCat – Erin’s a generally wonderful but highly unforgiving person, simultaneously savage and refined, cold-hearted and as comforting as a warm blanket on a cold day. She generally despises the political left, but we seem to get along just fine. It’s really hard to explain how she makes all these things balance and work out as well as she does, but the effect is staggering. I have a love-hate relationship with talking to her about my writing, mostly because half the time I talk to her, I wind up throwing out huge chunks of text and writing them anew. The problem is, like most frustrating things about her, it’s worth it. I miss her a little more every time I think about her.

This is Catboy again. Today I am here to wish you a merry Christmas. If you are part of a religion that celebrates Christmas in a religious way, I hope today is spiritually satisfying for you, and that you may carry feelings of hope, charity, love, and forgiveness throughout the coming year. If you celebrate Christmas as a secular sort of gift-exchanging holiday of togetherness and love, I hope that everybody adores the gifts that you bring to them, that you adore the gifts that people bring to you, and that you eat too much food (but only a little too much!) that is both tasty and nourishing. Of course many people celebrate Christmas in both ways, and to all of you, I wish you both kinds of happiness.

If you are a person who does not celebrate Christmas at all, then I wish you a very happy Tuesday. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow.

Thank you,
~Catboy! =^.^=

I think I have not forgotten anybody. If you feel that I have forgotten you, please leave a comment and I will wish you an appropriate happiness as quickly as I can.