Higo Blog

This weekend I went up with Matt to visit with Lawton and Gi up in Fukuoka. Lawton is now known as "Rawton" because I know that his kids pronounce his name as "Rawton sensei" when they ask him what he thinks about the recent "Carifornia Erections".

Anyways, we met up with a bunch of friends and aquaintances and went out to Tenjin and Hakata (the happenin' night spots in Fukuoka that accept foreigners and aren't prohibitively expensive), and went somewhere where I had up until that point never had visited nor had any intention of visiting. That's right, we went to the Happy Cock (previously the Crazy Cock). Now there are two of those clubs downtown. The name pretty much sums it up.

The Happy Cocks are a good place to go if you fit the following profile:
*you are a Marine on shore leave.
*you are a Japanese girl (or boy, for all I know) looking to hook up with a Marine.
*you are an obvious (Caucasian or Black, or a really loud Asian) gaijin looking to get some action.
*you don't mind the bartender mixing you a long island with only two different kinds of liquor and Coke.
*you are a person who enjoys the company of Marines when they are hunting for tail and drinking (meaning, you are probably a Marine or a girl looking for one).

Basically, this is Fukuoka's version of a Roppongi bar (like GasPanic).

Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate everything that the Marines are doing and have done to protect our country and its interests, but they tend to be dicks towards anyone that they are not trying to get in the sack, especially when they are drunk.
A while ago, we went to a different club in Tenjin called "Vibe", where a good portion of the Fukuoka hip-hop community often hangs out. This night it was full of Marines and high school aged girls. Anyways, I was halfway into drainin the lizard when I hear a loud knock at the door. "Get the FUCK out of there! My friend needs to use the restroom!". So I opened the door to see what their problem was. Two big mean-looking guys were holding up their friend, and said "I'm sorry but our friend has to puke"(It was shocking to hear them use the word "sorry" because I was expecting to get punched in the face). "I understand, go for it." I said, and waited for them to finish.
He planted his hands onto the urine-soaked tiles, and hey made him puke. He washed his hands, regained his balance, and shook my hand. They all apologized once again and thanked me, inviting me to sit with them. We went over to their table and joined their group. One of them made the following observation:
"You know what? You look like Mike Shinoda from Linkin Park!" so for the rest of the night I was known as "Mike" or "Shinoda". I became their best friend for the night after they found out that I was from California (not just some Japanese guy who spoke great English!). My money was no good, because they insisted on buying me free drinks all night long. They even introduced me to the group of (ugly, underaged) girls they were chatting up, and wanted me to share in their love hotel adventures (but I wasn't quite THAT drunk). I met these guys right before they were deployed into Iraq, and hope that they are all safe right now. Marines can be great guys when you get to know them, although sometimes they are best avoided.

This weekend, I was talking with another Marine who said this to me:
Marine: "So what (nationality) are you?"
Me: "I'm American"
Marine: "Hey, I feel really sorry for what we did to your people during World War II".
Me: "Yeah, Hiroshima and Nagasaki were horrible, but I am American like you. OUR people did it."
Marine: "I know, but I'm sorry for what my country did to your country. That shit ain't right".
Me: "Uh, I'm gonna go get another beer."
Sometimes the meaning doesn't stick to your words no matter how many times you repeat them, and by the time it reaches someone else, all it is is noise devoid of a signal. At times like this it is best to drink more beer. Then it may SEEM like it is making sense, or at least you will forget about the whole deal.

Anyhow, after driving about 10 hours over the weekend, and lacking sleep (partially due to some loud snoring, partially to the Lipovitan, partially to staying out until 5 in the morning, partially to sleeping on linoleum, etc...) I looked like the guy on the can.

Except my red eyes were barely cracked open. Thank God for Audioslave, on all of those long solitary drives back home.