This segment is basically just an excuse for me to commemorate some very minor events/milieu that I encountered whilst residing in
. The entries will be brief and void of context. I will not attempt to mine them for constrained literary or sociological significance. It’s just that if I don’t write them down ASAP, I’ll forget them entirely. Because, again, they don’t matter at all. Japan
Pt. 1: The Ocean is Closed in June
June, 2011: I drove to
for a long-weekend of beach-bumming + seafood gorging with a British boy and a girl from Kanazawa City Baton Rouge. The boy’s name was Ben and the girl’s pseudonym is Kate. They were my two best friends in Japan. We’d vamoosed on a whim because Ben was moving back to England soon and the three of us had a good rapport so what the hell, why not. It was finally summer. I’d bought a cowboy hat. Ben had Technicolor swimming trunks. We wanted to go to the beach.
All I remember from the seven hr drive is that certain stretches of the highway were thick with the stench of some bizarre botanical explosion. I say bizarre because this particular olfactory experience wasn’t at all like springtime or bouquets or other aromatic stuff you’d normally associate with the blossoming of blossoms. It was a seminal odor, in the human male ejaculation sense of the word. Driving through these sporoid clouds was like periodically plowing your way through a dumpster of wadded up teenage-boy tissues. Syrupy and sneeze-inducing. We giggled and gagged and dubbed the mysterious organism to blame: The Semen Tree.1