Why hello there - A blog from ERik

First BLOG for me EVER....here goes.

Well...where to begin. Back in March we set out for a good old fashion summer deployment...seemed pretty simple. 6 months, a fire, and a stop back in the good old US and A later and we are finally back in Japan...but not for long. After our 5 day "port visit" to where we "live" we head back out to sea for the fall deployment and a number of port visits around the western pacific. Don't worry, the fall deployment is only about two months and I will actually be in Alabama for a week or so of it.

Other than the mainly unknown element of our summer deployment, it all actually went pretty well. Before we started trekking east we pulled into Hong Kong and Guam..good times. On our way back to the US, we got to live the same day twice (June 13th) as we crossed the international date line...this was actually a pretty big buzz kill as it make our time at sea one day longer than was on the calender...and in case you were wondering, we dated paperwork 13A and 13B to know which date we were talking about.

Then did a lot of flying in a big exercise off of Hawaii called RIMPAC (Rim of the Pacific). And also we were able to stop into Hawaii TWICE, once before and once after the exercise, to get a little R&R and I was fortunate to be able to spend a week of those port visits with Kate. With the exception of a terrible fishing trip...the port visit/vacation was awesome.

At the conclusion of the HI exercise we headed back to San Diego to swap ships. After flying through Whidbey Island for Prowler Ball, we landed in San Diego and began preparing all of our belongings and work spaces over to the USS George Washington (CVN 73). It took the better part of a week to get everything moved over and all of our spaces set up the way we like them...and at the end of the day, we are pretty happy with the move.

I now have 3 roommates in a "4-man" very close to the ready room and wardroom...it is pretty nice. The GW is definitely a huge upgrade as far as size and the quality of the spaces...but there is a part of me that will always miss the good old USS Kitty Hawk (CV 63) where I have spend almost 9 months at sea.

I leave you now with a few pictures of my OLD stateroom on the Kitty...standby for pics of my new room in a couple weeks.

What Did You Have for Breakfast?

As some background info: I have been in the States this past month to help around the office and visit friends and family. Erik is still off somewhere in the middle of the Pacific so temporarily leaving the muggy (and buggy) summer of Japan was a no-brainer decision on my part.

I don’t know if I’m more aware of it now after being immersed in the courteous culture that is Japan, but I realize there are a lot of inconsiderate people floating around these parts. Mind you there are plenty of wonderful people, but there are some just plain jerks in everyday American life. [Actually, there are probably plenty of jerks in Japan, too, it’s just that I don’t understand when they are being jerks, short of someone placing a "kick me" sign written in kanji on my back.]

For example, I was in line the other day at the little deli shop next to my office building and the woman in front of me was ordering a sandwich. The dialogue went a little something like this:

Customer: Give me a tuna salad sandwich
Deli Staff: On white or wheat or a wrap?
Customer: No wrap – I said a sandwich. As in bread. Pssh. [Eye roll.]
Deli Staff: White or wheat?
Customer: Give me white. I need tomatoes and onions on there.
Customer: [in response to the deli staff temporarily helping her coworker get a new jar of mayo out] I placed my order before them – give me this to go. Oh, cut the crusts off, too.

Now that you’ve read this fascinating dialogue (“It's like I was there!”), I will continue my thought. Point is: I don’t know why this woman didn’t smile or say thank you or say please, but it bothered me. I figure even on my worst days, I can muster up a small smile and a thank you for a simple transaction like ordering a sandwich. Its tuna salad, not a debate on Roe vs Wade. This one woman’s attitude perplexed me for the rest of my lunch hour.

As fate would have it, I was later interviewing someone that afternoon that had a relevant thought to share -- in response to a question about how he would work with a difficult person on his team, he said “Well I don’t know what he or she had for breakfast.” After tangentially remembering my delicious bagel from earlier in the morning, I asked him to further explain what he meant. He basically said that he knows some people act like asses, but that person could have problems at home or overall wasn’t privileged to be raised in an environment of good communication. Or they are drunk. So he tries to look past the person’s attitude as much as possible and seek out the business task at hand.

Good answer. I don’t know if the company ever hired him…

So next time I am in line and see the person in front of me being rude or inconsiderate, I will just breathe and try to remember they may have had a big ol’ bowl of poo for breakfast. And when it’s my turn at the counter, I will just smile a little brighter.

I Found Richard Marx

The age: Preteen glory of the late 80s and early 90s. The hair was crimped, the sweaters were geometric and bright, and orthodontic treatment had begun.

The setting: The Mares household in suburbia (specifically, the confines of my bright teal-painted bedroom).

If you were a fly on the wall, you would have seen me seated next to my pink tape deck, obsessively using the play, pause, and rewind buttons to listen over and over to the most glorious notes of 1989: The beginning piano music from Richard Marx’s ballad Right Here Waiting.

I would quickly turn and mimic the notes on my nearby Casio keyboard and muster a soulful sing-a-long with Rich’s endearing raspy voice. I would have another tape deck nearby to record my notes and voice, self assured that Richard would want a copy. However, after listening to the home production, I was convinced that someone else was recording their horrible voice and/or the tape deck was malfunctioning – surely that warbling replaying through the speakers was not me. [Dramatic sigh] Richard would never hear my tribute.

Alas, years have passed by and multiple mimic-worthy ballads have come and gone. To this day, I still bring that Casio out once in a while to play an homage to the musical flavor of the month. And also to this day, I believe that every recorder has malfunctioned while recording my voice. I digress.

Anyways, I was driving the other day and Right Here Waiting came on, and my body reflexively went into a response of turning up the volume, scrunching my face in romantic pain, and holding a fist to my heart while I sung along. After I was done the mini car concert, I resolved to find Richard Marx, circa 2008.

Turns out he isn’t that hard to find. This guy’s in Chicago and actually has done a lot of stuff; he still records, produces, and plays live in concert. No one (no one!) can break Richard Marx.

Richard Marx: 1988























Richard Marx: 2008
















My favorite part is that his hair hasn’t changed in 20 years, except he has cut off the party in the back. The bushy top has been completely preserved. How entrancing.

Oh, Richard, if you only knew that I am still right here waiting… for you.

(Learn more about Richard Marx at www.richardmarx.com)

Go Go Gadget Prowler!

Since Erik isn't really here a lot to write his own mind farts, I have adopted the task of writing about what he does at work. Mind you that I'm not 100% sure of the everyday life on the USS Kitty Hawk (nor do I really want to know all the details), but I can ascertain tidbits of info from our daily emails with each other.

First of all, Erik flies in an EA-6B Prowler jet for VAQ-136 squadron, based out of Japan. It seats four butts: one pilot and three electronic countermeasure officers (known as ECMOs). My hubbie is an ECMO. The main goal of the Prowler is along the lines of electronic warfare -- jamming radars and such. It also can drop some missiles, but its not its main job. The jets are old and unsexy; they have been around since the early 70s. In dog years, that's really old (dead, in fact). Alas, they've got a few more years in them before the Navy transitions to the 2-man Growler.

Video of a Prowler taking off from Miss Kitty...


Because our tax dollars are at work, you will see a tint of the gold embedded in the jet's canopy. Because the Navy likes goooold! (You are supposed to read that with the Austin Powers Goldmember character in mind). Anyhoo... the gold provides protection from electromagnetic interference and prevents emissions of the same. That sounds crazy -- I want my tax dollars back!

As another side note, the nozzle on the front is so the Prowler can refuel while its in the air. I call it the fuel wiener, but I don't think its the technical term.

When Erik is not flying, he is sitting around in the ready room, swearing and farting with his fellow squadron members. They watch these little TVs that show whats going on up on the flight deck and giggle about other people's takeoffs and landings.

Actually, the guys all have regular jobs when they are not flying. Some of them help out with education stuff for the sailors, others do admin tasks, etc. So its not all fun and games. As an obligatory disclaimer, I know they all work really hard and are usually at their wits ends with being stuck in the middle of the ocean. But they've got camaraderie (and farting contests) to get them through it all. Keep up the good work, Gauntlets!

The air wing (which includes various squadrons of Prowlers, Hornets, Helos, etc) is soon transitioning to the USS George Washington and the Kitty Hawk will head on into retirement. Hopefully Erik will have a chance to post some pictures of his new digs (usually 4 to 6 people sleep in a room) and write about his day-to-day life aboard a carrier... minus the farting comments, from his own perspective.

The Far East Water Closet

My writing topic today isn't the most refined of choices, however I feel the need to voice some opinions on the "WC Woes" of living in the Far East.

I waited an extra couple minutes in line the other day for the dignified use of a Western style toilet. We were at a highway rest stop in the Shikuoza prefecture – somewhere between Tokyo and Kyoto – and there were only 3 Western stalls amongst the 20 or so available. I guess as you get farther away from metropolitan areas, the "regular potty" to "squatty potty" ratio becomes less favorable for folks who don't like the risk of peeing on themselves.

As I was enjoying my stately tinkle (the wait was worth it!), I realized there was a sign within the stall re: how to use a Western style toilet. The sign also appeared to be an afterthought since it was merely a laminated piece of paper, taped to the wall. This leads me to believe they were having problems with people mounting the toilets incorrectly (again, we were pretty far away from Tokyo). I found it funny enough to take a picture, however then felt a bit slighted: I really could have used illustrative direction when using the standard Japanese squatty potty for the first time.

Exhibit A: Japanese direction on how to use a Western toilet

As for why the floor toilet is rather prevalent in an otherwise civilized country, I haven't quite figured it out. Some tell me that it's so there is less skin contact with surfaces. Others comment on the biology of it, but that gets into even ickier territory, so I will stop there. It's their thing; I'm in their country, so it is what it is.

Exhibit B: A standard Japanese toilet, for those who have not yet been enlightened.

If you do use a Western style toilet in Japan, you will of course find that it has been overengineered, much like other products here. It has controls for heat (which I am thankful for in the winter since our home lacks central heating), water sprays and musical notes to mask embarrassing toots (really). The picture below has a nice addition of English words to aid in selection, however my first encounter was purely in Kanji and I therefore was stuck in a restaurant bathroom for several extra minutes while I figured out where the flush mechanism was, whilst water sprayed amok.

Exhibit C: The fusion of Japan engineering with a Western toilet.

So, to conclude, I kind of just shake my head at the whole thing and am thankful that most homes are fitted with regular toilets. I leave you with my friends chicken and frog to share in their toilet joy…

Exhibit D: A typical Japanese commercial from the leader in Japanese toilets: Toto

Some Common Questions...

To tackle some of the common questions we get...

What is the food like?

There are a variety of Japanese restaurants - noodles, sushi, bowls, grill-your-own, etc. We have tried a few sushi places, and I think my favorite is the sushi-go-round near our house. Little plates of food go by your table on a conveyor belt and you just pick what you like (can I get one of those installed in my house?). At the end of your meal, the waitress counts up the number of plates you have in order to calculate your bill. Otherwise, we eat often at the little mom 'n pop noodle shop across the street - this is where Erik gets huge bowls of Ramen and I get heaping portions of chuhan (fried rice) - definitely a Chinese cuisine influence. Besides Japanese food, we can easily find Italian and Indian restaurants to mix things up a bit.

We primarily shop at the commissary on base (grocery store), so our everyday meals at home aren't really any different than what we had in the States. I am getting more comfortable shopping out in town for vegetables, fruit, and trying random new things - we have plenty of stores within walking distance.


What do you do all day?

Given Erik is gone about 9 months out of the year, I find I have a lot of extra time on my hands to kill. I am blessed to still keep a part time position with my company in Maryland that I have worked at for several years - so usually I wake up and do a few hours of work on the computer. Then its usually to base to run errands such as going to the library, the gym, checking the mail, etc.

I also teach some "English" classes - this is very common for the spouses over here. There are plenty of locals who want to learn more of the language or hone their skills by simply having a conversation. You can get anywhere between 5000 yen to 7500 yen for an hour (tax free!), so its not too shabby. Thats about $50-$75 an hour.

Other than that, there are plenty of day trips and activities to keep busy. I have met some great friends here, both from base and also some local gals - we know how to have a good time, whether its hanging out with lots of wine or going to the karaoke bar. So although some days are a snooze, overall you can be as busy as you want to.


What is Japanese TV like?

Erik and I actually don't have any Japanese cable, but some folks out in town do subscribe. They have things like soap operas, food eating contests, gameshows, etc. I think its pretty unique and interesting - but kinda' like how I never understood Monty Python/ British humor all the way, its the same with Japanese humor. Did you ever see the movie Lost in Translation? The scene where Bill Murray is being interviewed on that talk show? Its exactly like that.

We do have a satellite at our house, provided by base. This gives us AFN - the american forces network. There are about 10 channels and its a variety of shows that we would get in the States, minus the 200+ plus channels that it seems everyone has these days. We get plenty of sports, shows from the major channels such as ABC, Fox, NBC, and a few from the Food Network and HGTV once in a while. For live shows such as The Daily Show or Dancing with the Stars, for example, they are simply on a one day delay.


Thats all I got for now!

The Japanese Office (SNL)

I'm probably behind on this, but I just watched the SNL Digital Short: The Japanese Office and found it to be hee-larious. I spent 15 minutes wading through sites to find one that would offer a high quality stream to us poor unfortunate souls outside the US. Damn you country codes!

Enjoy…

The Joy of Navy Paperwork

I quote a wise individual when saying "You can't do dick here on your first try". It sums it up quite nicely – you think you have all the forms and signatures and stamps and first borns you need and you are in the right building. Perhaps you even carry a faint smile on your face as you enter the office. Today, my friends, is the day you will beat the system.

And then the appointed individual tells you those are the wrong forms, someone else needs to sign them, they wanted your first born girl, not boy, and you need to go to another department which is only open on 9a-2p on Tuesdays. And its 2:05p on a Tuesday when they tell you this.

When you arrive at 9:03a the following Tuesday, Sailor Sally is taking her sweet time opening up the office and is telling all her co-workers about [enter: super d-u-m reality show here] from the night before. "It was crazy, ya'll! That guy from that one episode of that one show that lasted one year in 1996 was voted off!" She may glance at you once or twice while you wait, but otherwise she's on her own time. Finally she takes a look at the stuff and says their department can't do anything without a stamp from the original office you were at. "You need to go back to the other office, ma'am."

She delivers the news with an expression and tone that implies you are – quite simply – retarded.

The Okonomiyaki Experience (aka Okonomi-whodat?)

A couple weeks ago, Erik and I went to an okonomiyaki restaurant (pronounced oko-nomee-ahkee). Essentially it means "grill what you like". It's like a pancake batter with anything you want mixed in and then you grill it on your table. And it's not Aunt Jemima stuff: There are no blueberries or chocolate chips. Syrup and whip cream are but a dream.

Common items to mix in are cabbage, shrimp, corn, octopus, rib meat, etc. There is an exponential amount of combos displayed in the huge picture menu. It has about 20 pages, with a cartoon raccoon-dog to guide you along the way. A bit overwhelmed, I picked one that appears to be veggies and shrimp – it's just too hard to differentiate what type of meat you are getting from the small photos. Erik of course picks the one that appears to have the most amount of meat.

They heat up the grill on your table when you first sit down – by the time they bring your food in its little mixing bowl, the grill is hot and ready to go. Be careful. The grill is very hot. Like, "Umm, wow, I can't believe that small children eat at this restaurant" hot.

So you mix up your goo in its bowl and drop it on the grill. And then you wait. Once you have grilled it and flipped it and waited in anticipation, you find the pancake itself is just "okay." Nothing more, nothing less: Just okay. There aren't any seasonings in the batter or on the mix-ins so it's rather bland when you eat it as-is. That's why they give you a huge squeeze bottle of mayo and a box of fish flakes to sprinkle on top. The Japanese absolutely love mayonnaise, in a take-it-behind-the-school-and-get-it-pregnant kind of way. Erik and I found solace in a nearby jar of soy sauce that we used for dipping.

If visiting, be prepared to eat at an okonomiyaki joint with us. Not for the taste, but for the novelty...

Thoughts on Japan...

I am often asked about how life in Japan is going. Life in Japan is actually great – it's pretty neat to live in a different culture and the people are all nice. I can get over any of the oddball pet peeves because the experience in its totality makes up for inconveniences. Strolling through miles of "sakura" (cherry blossoms) on a spring day will enlighten the darkest of any. A couple fun points:

• Its fun to surprise the locals when they see a "gaijin" (foreigner) say something in Japanese. Actually, they are probably surprised because I am saying something totally off point (i.e. "Your melons are nice" instead of an intended "Nice to meet you").
• Bowing often (for hello, hi, thank you, nice to meet you, your welcome, bowing when you don't know why you are bowing) works out the lower back and preemptively targets any forming muffin top.
• Everyone in uniform is just plain cute – even the old dudes who carry the orange traffic signals. Sure, you probably moonlight by tweaking women's bums on crowded trains, but you sure do look cute in that little blue jumper number you've got on. And a reflective sash?! Piece de resistance!
• The use of cartoons and animated characters to explain everything is just plain endearing. There is nothing like a smiley aluminum can to remind you to recycle or a frowning barrel of oil to remind you to not light a cigarette nearby. All warnings should be delivered with a cartoon.
• The nearby lights of the tennis court and the repeated shouts of "hai!" are quite bright and loud at 10pm, yes, but the super watt 5000 bulbs make for good reading light while lying in bed.

Well, that's the start of a list that will grow over the next couple years. That's not to say I don't have pet peeves of living here, too, but that is for another list for another time. Overall, its gravy and I'm looking forward to learning more…