Joy to the World

There is more of moroseness than of merriment to my holiday season nowadays. It is a remembrance of people and times that no longer exist, a sort of month-long funeral service. No carols are sung, no ornaments are hung, no wreaths of holly are nailed to the door and no twinkle lights are strung on the tree, for there is no tree. There is no Christmas feast and no roast beast, and no Who's down in Whoville to eat the beast. There are no brown paper packages tied up in string. It is not the most wonderful time of the year. But when all the tinsel is trimmed away, when all the colored lights are switched off and all the candle flames extinguished, and the candied yams and the leftover gravy and the remaining parts of the turkey and the dressing and the green beans and the pumpkin and the chess pies have been wrapped in foil and committed once for all to the freezer, what have we left? Perhaps, at last, Christmas itself, the Christ child, the light of the world, born in the dark of a manger. Let all the rest live in its time, and yet this one thing live forever. Tidings of great and solemn joy. 

Addendum

It seems that I forgot a couple things in my Japan trip post. Well, more than a couple things, I'm sure. My brain itself is on permanent vacation, incurably fried. I should have mentioned something more about Sapporo, for instance, but I really cannot remember how we got there from Asahikawa. Train, bus, both? Beats me. I have no recollection of it. Scotty may as well have just beamed me there. 

Anyway, we didn't see a whole lot of Sapporo, as we were there really less than 2 days. It does however leave a general impression of drabness. It is as if the city were manufactured in small parts in America and shipped over to Japan, then set up like Legos. There is nothing unique about it, nothing charming, nothing inventive or glimmering as one would see in a city like KL for instance. There's nothing that speaks at all of any difference between a city in Japan and a city in the American Midwest. It was cold, I do remember that. 

There was, now that I think of it, a Christmas market and lights display. The market consisted of a city block of temporary little stalls selling trinkets and ornaments and also various types of drink and food. I was experiencing, for some reason, a great desire for hot dogs, and so we went in search of these and found a number of hot dog stands. I chose the wrong one unfortunately. My hot dog did not look at all like the picture shown. Instead of a fat juicy hot dog what I got for my yen was a tough, scrawny little thing, more like a pepperoni stick, lost within a hot dog bun. So this was disappointing. I don't think the Japanese understand hot dogs. 

Another thing I forgot to mention is the Japanese fluffy pancakes, although these were in Asahikawa. Have you ever had Japanese fluffy pancakes? My goodness they are delicious. They are fat things, but not dense or chewy. They're fluffy like air, and they are served with maple syrup and whipped cream. We found two places while we were there that served fluffy pancakes (and upon returning to Bali, we visited the Icon Mall for more fluffy pancakes 😅. Now Evelyn is complaining that she is fat, although I do not believe that for a minute).

There is something else, by the way, that she reminded me to mention here. Typically, I have forgotten what it was. 

Back to Steinbeck

Then there was a man, smart as satan, who, lacking some perception of human dignity and knowing all too well every aspect of human weakness and wickedness, used his special knowledge to warp men, to buy men, to bribe and threaten and seduce until he found himself in a position of great power. He clothed his motives in the names of virtue, and I have wondered whether he ever knew that no gift will ever buy back a man's love when you have removed his self-love. A bribed man can only hate his briber. When this man died the nation rang with praise and, just beneath, a gladness that he was dead. 

I will say no more, for words are dangerous these days. But my aim is clear and the subject is obvious to those of good conscience. There are good people in this world, and there are bad people in this world. That is the core essential message in East of Eden. It has been so from the beginning, ever since Cain murdered his brother Abel, and we live with this struggle from each time to the next, each life to the next, each generation to the next, until judgment day comes. The good wonder whether they have done well enough, and know that they have not, while the evil simply die.

Let It Snow!

Well, I've been away for a while, and I know that you all must have been missing my regular updates on my reading progress through East of Eden (joking). But I'm not going to talk about Eden now. I'm going to talk about Japan, from whence I have just recently returned. 

For our destination, Evelyn had chosen Hokkaido Island, for the primary reason, I think, that she had never before seen snow and wanted very much to do so somewhere in this lifetime. Seeing it, she later learned after making our reservations, would not be a sure thing, as she had chosen a date that might be just a bit early. But she had her hopes, and so had I, for I myself have not seen snow in more than 15 years now. I've not even felt cold temperatures, except for a short time in Hong Kong. 

The worst thing about Japan is just getting there. First we took a 3-hour flight to Kuala Lumpur for a transfer, and then the 6-hour flight from KL to Hokkaido. Arrival on that island was followed by a 2-hour train trip to the city of Asahikawa. The leg of the trip from KL to Hokkaido took place during the dead of night, but if you've ever tried to sleep on a long airplane trip, you will understand the difficulties faced. Sleeping while sitting up in an uncomfortable chair for 6 hours is difficult even for a tired 71-year-old man (and I can refer to myself as such for only one more month to come, give or take). So, despite being tired, and despite having taken a Xanax pill, I was only able to nod off here and there during the flight. 

Once we had arrived, however, Japan was just wonderful. How refreshing it was to step out into temperatures of -1 centigrade and less. How bracing! And how welcome after so many years of relentless heat. Not welcome forever, mind you. One soon learns to curse the cold when cold becomes a constant thing, and to cherish memories of the tropical heat, however deadly. 

But there was no snow. 

What we did find was the cherry little town of Asahikawa, all decked out in Christmas lights, and populated in the town square and in the mall by brightly decorated Christmas trees. Now that is another thing I have dearly missed, my friends. In Bali, there is no Christmas to speak of, but in Japan it is all the rage, despite being essentially a non-Christian country. But they do love the lights and the decorations and the cold noses and the mittened fingers. Santa Claus is not really a thing, nor of course is Jesus. But the lights and the trees and the tinsel are.

Speaking of which--our first stop on the day of arrival, after checking into our hotel room, was a sporting goods store offering affordable boots and gloves, which were much needed to replace our t-shirts and sandals from Bali. 

For the first couple days, we explored our little neighborhood, sampled various choices of Japanese cuisine, acquainted ourselves with Japanese behavior, which is very extremely polite and with a lot of nodding and bowing and muttering of words that would probably translate as sorry or excuse me. At the same time, despite the ever-present politeness, I did not find the Japanese people in general to be very friendly. They seem mildly irritated by visitors from abroad, and they do not for the most part speak English, which surprised me. I had thought that in such a modern country English would be fairly common, especially in industries that interact with a tourist population. And yet it appears that many more Indonesian people speak at least some English than the Japanese. We, or rather Evelyn communicated with them through Google translate on phone screens. They would read her question and then point and bark There, there! 

I should add that Japan is relentlessly clean, despite the absence of any public trash bins that I could find. Where do they put there trash? It's a mystery. Do they carry it home with them?

I of course looked for places to smoke. Smoking, as it turns out, is not at all a popular hobby in Japan. One might even say that it is not an acceptable hobby. There was, however, a smoking lounge (fancy word for closet) in our hotel, where I hung out from time to time with other shabby, unacceptable looking people to blow smoke at each other and politely cough or sneeze. 

It was on the third day, I think, that we took a 2-hour bus ride up to a little place called Sounkyo. (I don't know why, but every bus trip we took was a 2-hour trip. Go figure. Everything of interest in Japan, I guess, or at least in Hokkaido, is roughly 2 hours away). There was not much in Sounkyo other than a couple of hotels and a street of shops that were all closed, for it was dark by the time we arrived and teeth chattering cold. What we did find, however, was snow! It started to flutter down in little flakes, but then kicked up into a vigorous flurry. 

We were in the visitor's center when I noticed the snow coming down. There you go, Evelyn - - snow! 

This was probably my favorite part of the entire trip. To see her childlike joy, to see her jump and dance about and catch snowflakes in her hands and put them on her tongue, to scoop up the swiftly gathering snow and let it sift through her fingers (barehanded yet!), or press it into snowballs, which of course she flung at me. She is 53 years old, and she has never seen snow other than in a picture book or on a TV screen. She has never felt what cold is like.

Immediately, she wanted to book a room in one of the hotels. Sadly, however, it turned out that rooms were available only by reservation, and there was no room at the inn. As it was, we had to run to catch our bus, because it was the last bus of the day and if we had missed it, we would have been up shi--I mean Snow Crick. 

But there was more snow to come in Asahikawa--not so much as Sounkyo, but enough to keep her dancing and marveling.

Another trip we made (another 2 hour bus ride) was to Shirahige waterfall, a frozen cascade from high cliffs into a ravine of bluish colored water, colored so no doubt by the rocks beneath the surface. There was a lot of snow on the ground there, and so much more of fascination. And hundreds of pictures, I think, although that may be an exaggeration. 

Finally, after a number of days, we took a bus down to Sapporo, and then another bus up to a place called Otaru to see a canal that is famous for some reason, and also to visit the Le Tao cheesecake and pastry shop (which, coincidentally, will soon open at the Sanur mall some 5 minutes from my house). But oh well, there was snow there too in Otaru.

From there it was Sapporo to Hong Kong and thence to Bali--and this time, friends, with the help of Xanax and general exhaustion, I slept like a baby on the long last leg home.

What To Do

And she looked forward to heaven as a place where clothes did not get dirty and where food did not have to be cooked and dishes washed. Privately there were some things in heaven of which she did not quite approve. There was too much singing, and she didn't see how even the Elect could survive very long the celestial laziness which was promised. She would find something to do in heaven. There must be something to take up one's time - - some clouds to darn, some weary wings to rub with liniment. Maybe the collars of the robes needed turning now and then, and when you come right down to it, she couldn't believe that even In heaven there would not be cobwebs in some corner to be knocked down with a cloth-covered broom.

--East of Eden, John Steinbeck 

Right? I've been thinking of these things myself. There must be something to take up ones time, to break up the celestial laziness (otherwise known as boredom, I suppose). What about reading, as I've mentioned before? What is life, or death, without reading? How will we while away the eons of eternity? And what about eating? Will there be food to eat, or the need of food? I have always imagined not, but come to think of it now, the Lord himself ate while clothed with the resurrection body. He fried fish for the disciples and ate with them by the fire. And he broke bread with the men he met on the road to Emmaus. This, as theorized by many theologians, was to demonstrate to people that he was not a ghost or an ephemeral spirit. Touch the wounds in my hands, he told Thomas; put your hand into my side where the spear pierced. So we have this body, this resurrection body, and surely something must be done with it. We must be put to tasks, else we may as well be in the grave. What is the nature of these eternal occupations? About that, we know nothing - - other than this: that No eye seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.

More from Eden

More news from Eden [all quotes from East of Eden by John Steinbeck] 

One day Samuel strained his back lifting a bale of hay, and it hurt his feelings more than his back, for he could not imagine a life in which Sam Hamilton was not privileged to lift a bale of hay. He felt insulted by his back, almost as he would have been if one of his children had been dishonest.

Yes, I am insulted as well, and feel betrayed. I cannot do the things I used to do, the things I am supposed to be able to do. Just this morning, three of the neighborhood dogs were attacking a little white dog halfway up the street. I started up there in a hurry, but found that running was quite impossible. I did run a few steps but it became clear that I would soon pitch forward onto my face if I were to continue. It was important for me to get to the dogs quickly, and I was insulted and offended by my inability to do so. 

There are small things, everyday things. Sweeping or mopping the floor soon send me aching to my bed. Lifting the 5 gallon jug of water into the water dispenser leaves me sweating, and the task oftentimes undone. My back has rebelled and has won, but this is still not something I can just sit back and accept. No, I will do it again, I will do it next time, and next time I will succeed. 

Did I get to the little white dog in time? I don't know. I was able to chase off the attackers, and yet the little dog only lay in the grass after I arrived, looking up at me pitifully. He could not get to his feet, or he would not for fear that the dogs would return. I don't know which. 

There is no sane or reasonable world in which I cannot run, in which I cannot manage my own house. And yet there is. 

   "Was she very beautiful, Samuel?" 

   "To you she was because you built her. I don't think you ever saw her - - only your own creation." 

Here again is my own past, peeking into judge me - - or is it to console, to validate? I know this truth, I have thought about it lately, I have discussed it with my girlfriend in answer to her questions, and so how curious it is that the subject keeps showing up in what I happen to be reading. There is a sort of magic in literature. Somehow, it marches along with you, it examines you as you examine it, it puzzles over things that puzzle you. I've seen this happen so very many times. There's a synchronicity to it. Meaningful coincidence. And it is wonderful.

Morning

Morning seems to come earlier every year I live. 

--East of Eden, John Steinbeck 

It does indeed. And evening is the same. I have my coffee in the morning, and then who knows what happens to the hours afterward--up until about 8:00 p.m. that is, when they regather themselves and crawl heavily toward 11, my usual bedtime. Here is the 3-hour eternity of each day. What will I do, I wonder? How very long it is until I may sleep! And then the same all over again. Days pass, and weeks, and months, and all the while I have not much time remaining. Time is rushing before me, ahead of me, and I know I will not catch up. Only now, at the late hour, do we begin to grasp the value of time, for the sands are low and forever running to the end. I wonder if people in heaven ever read. I can't imagine life without coffee, a cigarette, and a book.