Ode to Yoshi-Gyu

I have been depressed since this weekend when Nam and I walked past a Yoshinoya (ex-purveyor of gyudon, or “beef bowls”) and saw:
A. A notice on the door informing people that gyudon was no longer being served
B. A gaudy yellow banner proclaiming their new product: Karedon (curry bowl)
C. Not a single goddamn customer sitting at the counters, even though it was lunchtime
This particular branch was in Nara but I saw three more on the way and in Osaka later, that were suffering the same fate. I wonder if Yoshinoya will get on the butadon (pork bowl) bandwagon or not. Then again, who cares? I miss my gyudon, even if I’m not eating rice right now. I guess the next best thing to eating it would be to relive eating it, so without further ado, I present:
Cosmic Buddha’s Ten Steps to Nirvana (AKA The One True Way to eat Yoshinoya gyudon):
1. Order a “nami” (regular size). The reason for this is the perfect topping:rice ratio that is not shared with the larger-sized orders. It is also the best value, something I know is very important to students.
2. Order a nama tamago (raw egg). This will likely be brought out before the gyudon, so get it ready. Add some shichimi togarashi (crushed red chili flakes) and shoyu (soy sauce) into the bowl that the egg is served in, then mix for approximately 10 seconds with chopsticks.
3. When the gyudon comes out, dump some beni shoga (red ginger condiment) toward the edge of the bowl.
4. With your chopsticks, make a conical depression in the center of the mounded topping all the way down to the rice.
5. Pour the prepared egg mixture in the depression. Wait 5-10 seconds to allow some absorption into the rice layer.
6. Raise the steaming bowl of beefy goodness to your lips and shovel as much into your maw as humanly possible.
7. Repeat step 5.
Note: If you are an Asian (or in my case, Asian-looking) man, making loud lip-smacking sounds is both encouraged and expected within this context. But then again, if you had to be told that, you probably won’t be comfortable doing it anyway.
8. Slurp down some tea.
9. Repeat steps 5 though 8 until finished with your meal.
10. Make the obligatory Groan and Sigh of Contentment, and if you are over the age of 35, pick your teeth openly and with complete disregard to other customers.

Fuka Fuka

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This is the first photo I have ever posted to this blog that was not taken with my phone. Merin sent me this one. She spotted it when the girls went shopping after our nice luinch at Chedi Luang. The venue? Namba Parks, of course.
Merin’s phone is equipped with a camera that treads with muddy boots all over my once very modern Hitachi phone. The time for an upgrade has come. I can smell it in the air. Next month, I think. My incentive for waiting, of course, is the spring lineup from AU that will surely feature a model that can keep me happy for another long, long year.
Hell, in another year cellphones will eliminate a few more product categories if all follows the inevitable path to consolidation. I predict that cellphones will be marketed to replace IC recorders, lightweight mpeg video cameras, and universal remotes. The technology is already most of the way there and the manufacturers are definitely weighing customer demand for these features against higher price.

Daikon Flowers

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Chedi Luang is a new Thai restaurant in Kita Horie that we visited (We: Me, Bill, Nam, Merin, and Nam’s kohai Dao) on the weekend. Good food and interesting presentation. We ate more than our fill of curries, fish/meat dishes, and more exotic fare. It broke down to about 2,500 yen per person ordering a la carte, which I declare a damn good deal for Japan. The girl who runs it danced with Nam at the event in Mihara a couple weeks ago. She also works part time as a masseuse (masseusesse?) and I have no idea why I am writing about that.
Go. Eat. Make like a Thai and be happy!

Random Yoshida Links

The links that can be found by ego-Googling are sometimes surprising. I hunted down the site of another Justin Yoshida last month! I left a message in his guestbook, but haven’t gotten word back yet. What do you know? He plays CS, just like me. Heh.
This guy must actually be me, from an alternate universe or something. Maybe the metaphysic membrane between our realities was temporarily ripped and he somehow fell through. It should be interesting if we hook up sometime – he apparently lives in Hawaii so it’s conceivable I might make the effort someday. If he’s not hiding from me, that is. I can be weird sometimes, maybe he thinks I’m a maniac or something. Come to think of it, the thought of another Justin Yoshida is kind of scary. What if he goes aggro and kills a bunch of people or something? It might reflect poorly on me, you know. Twenty years from now when I’m introducing myself to people they might say, “Yoshida… Aren’t you the guy who blew up a tour bus full of Chinese tourists and sold their remains as humuhumunukunukuapuaa pudding at Hanauma Bay?”
Wow. Got lost in dreamland there for a second. Anyway. ego-Googling results. Right. Dozo:
Yoshida Records
Some featured artists: ADELE LIPUMA, SIW MALMKVIST, ZZAJ (this last one is a springoff of ZWAN, I suspect)
Yoshida Auto
These native Osakans will ship cars to Ireland, Mauritus, and Chile for you.
Nami Yoshida, Illustrator
Her first picture book is on sale.

Mac Adept

The manager for the packaging design department came to me with a blank procurement form last year and said, “Fill these out. We need a new Mac; you have 1,000,000 yen to spend on it.” My mind was instantly filled with images of a dual processor G5, Apple Cinema display, striped and mirrored SCSI backup system, Firewire-powered cappuccino maker, etc., you know, The Perfect System. I almost cried. (I say “almost” because this would have been a dream in my Mac maven phase, say five or six years ago.)
Well, I came even closer to crying today when I saw how this new girl, the Designated Mac Operator in the design room was using the Perfect System. She had the 23″ Apple Cinema HD Display (max. resolution 1,920 x 1,200) at the lowest resolution possible, 800 x 500 while laying out pages in PageMaker. I couldn’t believe my eyes even though I watched her 1337 operating skillz for a good 5 minutes over her shoulder. The only possible analogy I can come up with would be sitting two feet from a movie screen; as in TOO CLOSE to a good thing. My man, the folders on the desktop (to mix metaphors) were the size of matchbooks. I later found out that she lowers the resolution instead of using zoom tools in the DTP programs. Amazing.

Got Rice

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Nissan Laurel in my company’s parking lot with a homemade rear wing. I could see the bolts holding it on the trunk. As a side note, the Nissan Laurel was popular in its heyday because it was relatively cheap sedan/coupe but it sported the same 6-cylinder engine as the Skyline. A lot of punk-ass motherfuckers and wannabe yaks still ride around in this car.

Salaryman Wept

Found an article from last month that hit close to home:
Competition stiffens to work oneself to death
Let Salaryman tell you something about dedication: Too much can kill, and blind dedication is either for the young, or for well-paid upper management. Even in these two cases, there is only so much you can accomplish before you break down.
With that in mind, keep it real and work your ass off. By playing your cards right, your investment of time and life energy will eventually be returned in the form of work experience and maybe a nice watch (standard-issue salaryman bling-bling).
Ulcers. Yes, it seems everybody has them around here. Like everyone else, I have a horror story. Two years ago, my senior partner on a prototyping project sat up quite suddenly in his seat and handed me a stack of documents. His eyes were bulging as he bent over and proceeded to noisily vomit blood into the wastebasket. Then he slumped over in his chair and the girls in the room started screaming. When the departmental manager left the room to find the nurse on call, homeboy opened his eyes, pointed to the aforementioned stack of papers, and said “tanomu wa” (Get it done.).
Now, this guy is a legend. He is the most dedicatedist motherfucker I have ever met, and a pain in the ass to work for because of his scrupulousness – he put the “ei” in “einaru”, if you know what I mean. And he ended up spewing entrail juice. Coincidence? Hardly. So that is the moral of this story – the most dedicated person in the office always ends up vomiting blood.
The End