Please, pass the Sug-ah!

Saturday night, we invited our elder son's in-laws over for dinner, along with both our sons and their significant others. After dinner, Earle started a pot of coffee and served those interested. We were scattered about our dining room and kitchen chatting, when I saw my son's MIL approaching his FIL with a mostly empty, worse-for-wear paper sack of sugar. She looked at him apologetically and he looked back as if to say "what kind of establishment is this?" He made a quip, but in my mortification, it went right by me. I had failed at being a good Southern Hostess. And then - to double my shame, his wife had to serve herself cream, FROM THE CARTON.

 You best believe I went to Bed, Bath, and Beyond within 24 hours and ordered a Fiestaware sugar bowl/creamer duo in Lemongrass It won't happen again.

In the 60's and 70's, being a good hostess was imperative for a Southern Woman. As was good grooming, and tasteful attire. I did not live up to these ideals. My Home-Ec teacher, Mrs. Sylvia Lassiter,  would be so elegantly disappointed.

But the times, they are a changing. Some niceties have gone the way of orange shag carpet and good riddance. Others have disappeared from my life just because they seem - well - impractical. (But sometimes that's just me.) And some, I truly miss.

Personally:

I refuse to wear makeup, except for moisturizer and a touch of lipstick now and again. Brava to women who can paint their faces into looking ten years younger. Good for you. My one makeover left me thinking "lipstick on a pig."  Sorry, lady at the Clinique counter. you tried your best. Freckles don't take kindly to such as that.

Pantyhose: Somewhere Hanes executive fatcats are cranked back in their big leather armchairs, smoking cigars, drinking brandy by the snifterful, delighted that many women still wear their brands of pantyhose. The infernal contrivances are designed to have a short lifespan. One run and out they go. And we buy replacements in a never ending cycle. Ladies - if we can put a man on the moon, almost 50 years ago with a computer less powerful than our Fitbits, WE CAN DEVELOP PANTYHOSE THAT DON'T RUN. I wear them when I must, but Mary Frances still finds then de rigeur. You are welcome, Hanes Fatcats.

Acrylic Nails. No.  Just No.

(Disclaimer. I do use hair color. Yes, it's inauthentic. But when your husband is mistaken for your son when you are 36 and have a first grader and a head full of gray hair, you become a "dye-hard." When at 57 you think about stopping the color and your 91 year old mom thinks it's a bad idea, well, it's a bad idea.)

And look what's disappeared from our culture:

Male tech workers wardrobes of slacks, white short-sleeved shirts, neckties, and pen protectors. Gone like the wind. Replaced by t-shirts, shorts, and sandals.  I miss you, IBM of yore.

Dressing up to go shopping. My dad always went "to town" in a sports coat and tie, usually with a hat. Now, apparently, flannel pajama pants are okay. I feel well dressed up in my capri sweatpants.

Belts. Teen-aged boys, you have belt loops for a reason.

China. I didn't choose a set of china when I married. My fusty MIL was so horrified she gave me a set anyway. But she can't make me use it.

Hats. What happened to hats? I want them back! And I don't mean knit ski caps or baseball hats. I mean for men - honest to goodness Fedoras and Hombergs. And for women - things with bits of feathers or lace, or bright buttons, maybe even a veil. Church hats!

Shoulder Pads. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

Going to Church. Go to church, people. God needs you as much as you need him.

Soda Fountains. The many flavors of  commercially available juice drinks do not hold a candle to a freshly made lemonade, orangeade  or limeade. Not even a match.

Homemade ice-cream.  My younger son had this recently at the parents of his bride-to-be. He loved it. I realized I'd never made it. Some of my happiest childhood memories involved homemade peach ice cream from my Dad's good friend, Bill Davis accompanied by twilight, lightening bugs, and mosquito bites.

Visiting with Neighbors on the Porch. A small town joy that's gone the way of ...small towns.

Driving politely. Driving these days is like being an extra in the Fast and the Furious.

Bridge.  This seemed like a good idea. Ladies had a night out,  AND they could win a prize.

So....I'm sure you can think of others: midi-skirts, bikes with baskets and only one gear, bookmobiles, bubble gum prizes and real toys in Cracker Jacks instead of a sticker, Chocolate Cow taffy suckers that could pull your teeth out and did...

At least I have the fond memories - but for today...

My sugar bowl and creamer came in the mail. I'm pretty happy with it.

But my son's FIL actually prefers artificial sweetener, so I'm gonna need one of these next...Sugar Packet/Artificial Sweeter Holder in Sunflower Yellow. $9.99 at Macy's for a Limited Time Only.

Mrs. Lassiter would be so proud.

Tokyo and the Electric City! (Japan Day 4)

Exiting the subway in Tokyo I felt a bit like Alice falling down a rabbit hole. I had been to big cities before: New York, Rome, London, but this was unlike any other I’d seen.  This was THE biggest city in the world., yet to my surprise, everything was sparkling clean, no trash or overstuffed waste bins, no graffiti, no crowds, no beggars. My first sight on exiting the subway stairs was a colorful flower shop. People moved to and fro: trim men dressed in suits and carrying briefcases, willowy women in flowing skirts or tidy suits. Traffic was minimal, and there were no bleating horns or fed-up drivers. The sun reflected off the tall, modern buildings surrounding us, draped in large signs in Japanese lettering. In the distance I spotted the modern shape Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower which contrasted nicely with the hints of trees from a nearby park.

Luckily for our weary feet, we found our business class hotel within a block of the subway stop and ditched our luggage. Our small room promised a bit more space than the hotel in Yokohama and I looked forward to a multi-night stay. But first, food. Zack located an appropriate restaurant and we were off again, this time for a relaxing dinner. Indian cuisine is always a good choice for a group that includes 2 omnivores, 1 pescatarian, and 2 vegetarians but the name made this eatery a must: the Dippalace. We found a traditional menu awaiting us and enjoyed settling in for a comforting bite. (With a fork.)

Earle and I found ourselves pretty tired and Zack, Nat and Lilly continued their explorations nearby. We turned in early to prep for our first full day in the city and with good reason: Akihabara awaited.

I had read about the Akihabara area of Tokyo and knew it housed a massive business district for those seeking household electronics, cameras, mange, anime, or video games. This area became known as “electric city” after WWII in part due to surplus electronic sales, but still does the name justice.

We arrived by train the next morning and began our exploration while still in the station which opened up to a massive electronic store, Yodobashi Camera that sold – well – everything. I was mesmerized by the sophisticated selfie cameras but after being overwhelmed by floors of goods relished a visit to their toy section. Here I caught sight of Godzilla.

Once we stepped outside we found ourselves in a colorful vibrant neighborhood boasting stores featuring all the expected delights. Here we saw the largest concentration of westerners as we toured some of the offerings. We went to a giant, multi-floored, video game store named Super Potato. Every video game system an video game cartridge known to mankind could be found there. In true “the more things change, the more they stay the same, Lilly and I found ourselves waiting on the “boys” to play video games.

WAITING 

Super Potato was just one of the multi-storied monoliths offering a dizzying array of techno-goods. We usually headed to the top floor (me on an elevator, them on the stairs) and worked our way down. One store boasted floors of manga (Japanese graphic novels), another warrens of radio parts, and still another had cases of vintage toys and figurines. Everywhere large colorful signs in Japanese or English festooned the streets as well as giant images of Japanese anime characters. It was dizzying and dazzling.

In between these massive stores, if you looked hard enough, you could find small stores with wall to wall capsule machines/ Gashapon. Not gonna lie. I loved them! And I spent every 100 yen coin I could solicit from my family. I added a tiny wood Hello Kitty in a kimono, a plastic bunny with a wreath of flowers and a miniature Japanese tea service to my collection. 

And then, our tour took a surprising turn. We ducked out of the hustle and bustle of the electric city and found our way to a modest high rise and took the elevator to an Owl Café. The whole “café” thing sounds odd to our western ears but various types of cafes exist in Japan, and especially in Tokyo. There are, in addition to owl cafes, cat cafes, dog cafes, and rabbit cafes. Yes – you visit with animals while you enjoy a drink or snack. An odder twist is the existence of an Alice in Wonderland Café, a Vampire Café, or the ever popular Maid Cafes – where waitresses dress as French maids and work to serve their “masters.” (Needless to say, I suspect Earle would have preferred a Maid Café to the Owl Café, but whatever.)

The Owl Café exceeded my expectations. Basically less food (drink vending machines) but many, many more owls than expected. For a modest fee, you stepped through an antiseptic “shoe bath” and entered a smallish room filled with a labyrinth of walkways and seats where you could see a great variety of owls, up close and personal. Most were hand tame. (Others clearly marked to protect the unwary guest.) Though their movement was restricted, they were clean, inquisitive (whooooo?) and looked well kept. Some dozed off, bored with the whole setup and a few looked longingly out the window. One unusual fellow was free to fly about. It was a memorable visit and one of my favorite stops.

Once we exited, Zack had one more trick up his sleeve for us. I dutifully trailed along, a little concerned about the overcast sky and the sprinkles. We ducked under what looked like a train line overpass, I thought to get out of the rain, but instead found a conclave of unique shops each featuring different type of artisanal goods. One could buy leather goods, shoes, handmade books, backpacks, clothes, metal works, woodcraft, screen printed fabrics…even now, weeks later, remembering the varieties of these jewel box shops is a bit mindboggling. It was a shopper’s paradise! And a bit of a “whats good for the goose is good for the gander” experience as Lilly and I shopped to our hearts content while the guys grew a bit tired of waiting. (So tired in fact, that they circled back around to hit another video game business.) Lilly and I had the absolute luxury of visiting as many of these shops as we liked – admiring the many unusual and carefully crafted products – often helped by the crafter themselves. I bought a lovely carved wooden owl pin for my mom as well as two tiny handmade books and several tenuguis, multipurpose pieces of fabric – a traditional Japanese gift- used for everything from wearing as a headscarf to wrapping gifts. We had great fun – and shopped until the stores closed in the late afternoon.

When we regrouped, we took the train to another part of the city, traipsed through a neighborhood that somehow was all uphill (both ways) and ended up at Café-Creperie Le Bretagne. This tiny restaurant was tucked in an out-of-the-way corner and featured out-of-this world crepes – especially dessert crepes! I didn’t anticipate crepes in Japan – but this was a relaxing, tasty stop that suited all our palates and helped us wind down from a busy day.

TOMORROW: ON TO HAKONE and BLACK EGGS

Sushi Go-Round and Standing Out in the Crowd (Japan Days 2-3)

Sushi Go-Round and Standing Out in the Crowd

After our “march or die” tour of Yokohama, and time back at our hotel  to ice my knee, Zack took us to a “sushi-go-round” for dinner.

Also known as a sushi train or conveyor belt sushi, dishes traverse the restaurant from a central preparation area on something similar to a small airport baggage carousel. There is (or was) a small restaurant of this type on Franklin Street, so I had been exposed to this idea on a smaller scale. But in typical Japanese fashion, this restaurant exceeded expectations.

In general, I was intrigued by the use of technology, including the electronic map of unoccupied toilets in the Tokyo Train Station. This time, the technology was in the small ordering interface on each table. The small computer screen boasted a multiscreen menu and was available in Japanese or (a somewhat questionable) translation into English. Orders were placed and shortly thereafter you were notified when your dish was on its way on the conveyer belt, tagged with your table number. There were other dishes available as well, untagged and available if you had a hankering.

It was a great way to sample a variety of dishes. I expanded my appreciation for nigiri (raw fish sushi) and sampled eel for the first time. Nat was bold enough to try pickled eggplant, but his response was not unlike Mary Frances’ watermelon rind pickle reaction at our favorite BBQ joint. It was fun and easy to share dishes. Each table was equipped with hot water and green tea.  When we signaled the waitress that we were finished, she brought out a ruler of sorts and measured the stacks of empty dishes we had generated and charged us accordingly. We cleared a respectable number of plates!

Making Green Tea 

Sushi Go-Round

Pickled Eggplant

Damage Count 

Our final morning in Yokohama, after breakfast at MacDonald’s, we visited Chinatown, the largest in Japan. It was within easy walking distance of our hotel. One moment you are on a typical, calm, Japanese street and suddenly you find yourself in an explosion of color, noise, and movement! Restaurants stretched in a seemingly endless march fronted by hawkers imploring you to eat within. The air was filled with the scents of simmering dumplings, roasted chestnuts, and sizzling dishes. Colorful “fake” food adorned each entrance. In between the restaurants were scads of shops with Chinese gifts – including lots of pandas. The entrance to one store was a panda’s open mouth!

Sidewalks were filled with groups of high school aged students dressed in traditional school uniforms of tartan and navy. They bore the universal look of teenagers happy to be out of the classroom. And the preschoolers! Adorable! Classes were clustered around their teachers, each class wearing matching caps. And universally, the students were well-behaved and orderly.

One group of teenage girls caught sight of our little party, winding single file through the crowds. Lilly had dropped back to keep me company near the end of our queue and she spotted them first, eyeballing Earle and the boys ahead of us, who stood out in the crowd, heads above everyone else. One pair of girls giggled behind their raised hands obviously watching them. One of them then caught our eye, smiled widely, waved, and shyly called out “Hello!” We were indeed a rarity in Yokohama; I saw only 4 other westerners in the 48 hours we spent there!

Entrance to Chinatown

Fortune Telling

School girls

Pandas!

THE CUTENESS! 

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We also stopped by a small temple that enshrines deity Kwan Tai who was a general in an ancient Chinese army around 200 AD.  He is worshiped for his military agility and virtues, including integrity and loyalty. It was surprising to find this small, quiet temple in the heart of Chinatown. Its rich golds, reds, and guardian lions (foo dogs to westerners) were a haven of serenity the midst of business, barkers, and crowds.

Soon we found ourselves retracing our steps and slipping out of Chinatown, as magically as we entered. We collected our suitcases, which were stashed in Zack’s apartment, and began our journey to Tokyo.