More happy Callan shots.

Here are some more shots of Callan, who had too much fun at the park.

Melissa took this picture to send to the editors at Raondom house. We couldn't figure out how to get the patched elbows of a tweed coat into a head shot, so we settled for a turtleneck. Now if only I had a pair of reading glasses resting lazily in my hand below my chin, that would be literary :-)

Seto Bridge Park

I just wrote a long blog about these pictures and our day off at the park near the Seto Bridge but it got eaten by the blog monster. I gave up, but here's the pictures at least!

Here is the rather cool cover of the rather cool book that some rather cool editors decided to let me be a part of. It comes out in August, so you can do some Christmas shopping early.

Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers (and one by me)

A lot of people who read this blog, by virtue of their blood, legal, or otherwise obligatory relationship to me already know this, but for those who are here out of your own free will, and know little about me and what I do besides teach english and travel with Callan andMelissa, I have a pretty cool announcement (Well cool for me, and twenty eight other young writers at least). Last November Randomhouse Publishing held a contest, asking for essays on being twentysomething in America. The winners would be published in a new tradepaperback anthology called "Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers: The best new voices of 2006). Well, I submitted a short essay about working at Wendy's last year when Melissa was finishing up at BYU, and it was selected for publication along with 28 other essays.


I am in the middle of reading the galley proof of the book, so I don't know a lot about the company I keep in this anthology, but from what I have read, being twentysomething is different for everyone. I'll cut and paste the randomhouse.com blurb about the book. That will be easier than trying to redue it myself.

quoted from randomhouse.com:

"Selected as the winners of Random House’s national contest, a stunning collection of essays ranging from comic to poignant, personal to political, by the newest, brightest young writers you haven’t heard of . . . yet.

Here, for the first time, current twentysomethings come together on their own terms, in their own words, and begin to define this remarkably diverse and self-aware generation. Tackling an array of subjects–career, family, sex, religion, technology, art–they form a vibrant, unified community while simultaneously proving that there is no typical twentysomething experience.

In this collection, a young father works the late-night shift at Wendy’s, learning the finer points of status, teamwork, and french fries. An artist’s nude model explains why she’s happy to be viewed as an object. An international relief worker wrestles with his choices as he starts to resent the very people who need his help the most. A devout follower of Joan Didion explains what New York means to her. And a young army engineer spends his time in Kuwait futilely trying to grow a mustache like his dad’s.

With grace, wit, humor, and urgency, these writers invite us into their lives and into their heads. Twentysomething Essays by Twentysomething Writers is a rich, provocative read as well as a bold statement from a generation just now coming into its own.

I have begun to coorispond a little with some of the other authors and one of them started a blog (how twentysomething of her, right). ONe thing is for sure, these folks can write. Its inspiring, intimidating, and just plain cool. I feel a bit like I did in seventh grade when I made the A2 basketball team and at our first practice we all stood on the baseline giving each other nervous looks, wondering where we fit in, wondering how we got chosen when so many others didn't, and wondering if 13 year old shoulders look right in the new tanktop uniforms. We were all weighing the value of the social capital we had earned by making the team, and were really unsure of what it all meant. Okay so maybe getting published isn't as cool as making the 7th grade basketball team, but it's at least as awkard and guardedly exciting.

http://twentysomethingauthors.blogspot.com/


The book will be released August 29th, 2006 and I can't wait to put a curl in its cover.

On my way home from work tonight I passed this scene. A full size minivan had slid off the road and was down in an irrigation ditch. Besides some probable scratching and maybe some denting on the side of the car resting on the concrete gutter, the car looked unharmed, so I don't think it was caused bya collision. More likely the woman was trying to hug the edge of the road to allow another car to pass, and she misjudged the location of the edge. This is exactly what I did back in October, but this woman's car is about four times the size of the car I drove into the gutter, and she was probably going faster, since the car would have needed enough momentum to not only slide off the road, but then topple over completely. I can't imagine being inside the car when it went over, or climbing out of it and having to call the police to tell them what you did. The other day Melissa drove by a man who was talking on his cell phone and standing in a rice field next to his car, which had somehow left the road completely. The man in orange at the center of this picture is the tow truck driver who I imagine is trying to figure out how to get the van out of the ditch. I'm not sure what the policemen are doing besides just holding clip boards (something they do well, and do often), and taking notes. I felt a little bad driving all the way home just to get the camera, and then driving back, hopping out of my car Paparazzi style and snapping a few pictures, but I wasn't the only one who had stopped to look. Several people where craning their necks from the windows of nearby homes, and other passerbys were gathering.

I have no idea how this car ended up in the ditch, but I do know the city planners in this country are not going to win any awards any time soon.

Power rangers are popular in America, but nothing like they are in Japan. Here, at a local festival, parents have brought their children to see the clash of Good and Evil (or at least the clash of spandex and Styrofoam) acted out on a temporary stage in an a city park, beside a row of Japanese carnie venders hawking cold French fries, Octopus popovers, and dried squid. We were there for other reasons.

Last Sunday while on a walk with Callan I met a woman in her fifties who was out planting flowers in front of her home. She lives in the house next to the small park in our neighborhood that is home to the oldest looking dog I have ever seen. We first noticed her dog from atop the park slide, which is tall enough to let us see over her garden wall and into her backyard where her old dog spends most of its time sitting in a dog house, unless it gets its chain tangled around a nearby rock, and then it sits next to the rock, waiting for someone to unhook him. Callan and I have often gone into this woman�fs backyard to untangle the poor dog�fs chain.

This woman, Mrs. Matsunaga (her name means eternal pine by the way), helps run a local group that practices and performs traditional Okinawan dance and music. She invited us to come see them perform on Sunday afternoon last week, so after church we drove down to the community sports center where the �gTokiwa craft industry Big Festival�h was being held, and the Okinawa dance team was scheduled to perform. When we arrived, the Power Rangers where at the climax of a galaxy shaking battle with a monster that looked a bit like a large gray asparagus. The stage was soon cleared and we got to see the Okinawa show.

The epic battle that took place on the stage, complete with music, dubbed over voices, and cheesy costumes, thankfully came to an end about three minutes after we arrived at the park.

After the ridiculous 'Vulcan Ranger' fiasco which we thankfully missed most of, the Okinawa group came and performed for about ten minutes. Okinawa is a part of Japan, but definitely foreign in so many ways. The food, the music, and the dancing is so unique, so seasoned with polynesian culture. I've never been there, but the way people talk about it is almost as if it is a foreign country. On 'mainland' japan it is uncommon to meet people from Okinawa, and when one Okinawan meets up with another, they act like I do when I see another American in a shopping mall here. They go out of there way to say hello, share some 'insider' comment about back home, and wish each other well.

What made the performance cool for me was the age spread in the group. The youngest girls were probably 6 or 7, but there were also teenagers, young adults, and older people as well. We bumped into one of my students at the festival and she told me that she usually is involved in the group, but just happened to be busy this time.

I remember seeing a group from Okinawa at the Awaodori festival in Tokushima when I was a missionary. There was a large drum line of men like this marching down the street, waving their sticks, spinning their drums, and striking poses like this.

i think that the short kimono is an Okinawa thing.

For the past two months I've been teaching weekly English time at Gunge Elementary school near our home. I just finished the four lesson round with the four Fifth grade classes last week, and in thanks for teaching, each class gave me an envelope full of personal notes from the students. There are more than thirty students in each class, which means I received nearly 140 notes in all. Most of them said typical things like, "Thanks for teaching," and "Your lessons were really fun," and "We'll miss you," but a few are worth quoting verbatim.

�gDear Teacher, Learning English from you was really fun, especially your cow impersonation!�h

�gDear Teacher, Learning English with you was fun. Especially the part about not giving dead fish handshakes or monkey wrench handshakes.�h

�gEverything we learned in English class was really fun. Please come to Japan again and eat lots of delicious Japanese food.�h

�gTeacher, Your English is really good. I would have liked to learn more from you. It was fun.�h

I�fve still got five lessons with each of the four sixth grade classes at the school over the next four weeks, so I�fm sure there will be more to add to the list.

Walking into an elementary school in Japan is like being a movie star. EVERYONE stares at you, points, and waves, says hello, and goes out of their way to bow, or otherwise greet you. Some of the younger kids forget where they�fre going when they pass you in the hall and end up following you around. When you leave a classroom you are thronged by kids who want to shake your hand, give you five, carry your backpack, and get your signature. I was a little nervous at first, mostly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the classes I was teaching, but have come to enjoy my weekly visits to the school, and am beginning to recognize a lot of the kids. I have even seen a few at the grocery store, or at McDonalds and said hello to them. This is really a small town, and the more I get to know the people, the smaller it becomes.

Callan was a trooper today. He survived three hours at the Doctors office, and another three hours round trip in the Car. He played hard at the beach, and only flipped out momentarily after his bath tonight. For three nights in a row he has fallen asleep on his own, has slept the whole night in his bed, and been generally pleasant. Saturday was kind of rough because I had class in the morning at our home and Callan was having a hard time sharing with the four older students I was teaching. He melted into a tantrum, and soon after Dad and Mom both wigged out pretty bad. A general mood of yuck prevailed over the house for most of the day, and in the evening we all had a talk about how to handle "the two year old inside all of us" better. It is easy to forget that inside each of us is a two year old, and that though we've gotten bigger and learned social expectations about expressing our needs, and have found better ways to get what we want, each of us still has a tendancy to let the two year old out when things get rough. I know mine does. What kills is that Callan, for good and for bad, mimicks everything that I do. That is perhaps the greatest impetus for controlling my tongue, and my temper. He is a great kid. Today Kelly Walther, his nursery teacher said, "Callan always says please about everything." He is a very kind and thoughtful child who is always concerned about his Mommy and Daddy. Today I hit my head really hard on our hatch back door and Callan walked up to me and said, 'You alright Daddy?

Joey, waiting at a light on Route 11 in Takamatsu, after spending a warm afternoon at the Beach.

Today after spending three hours at the Doctors office for Melissa's pregnancy check up, we met up with Remey and Kelly Walther in Takamatsu and headed 25 kilometers east to Tsuda, one of two relatively scenic beaches around our area. It's just getting sunny and warm enough to bring out our dollar store sun glasses and turn on the A/C in the car. Unfortunately the A/C didn't seem to work today so we kept the windows down most of the time.

Remey and Kelly Walther. They came to Japan a week after we did, and Will Leave a week after we do. But since we're staying in Hawaii for a week, we'll actually be on the same flight as them from San Francisco to Salt Lake City. They're moving to Knoxville in the Fall to attend Vanderbilt University Law School.

It was a bit windy on the drive up, but the beach turned out very pleasant--a bit rocky--but pleasant. There was minimal litter and the water was just wavy enough to make things interesting. Ramey and I got in the water and did some swimming, and Kelly and Melissa waded a little bit. Then Ramey and Callan and I played catch with the baseball, and Kelly and Melissa sat in the sand and talked long enough to get a little pink in the shoulders.