I Had a Dream

Yesterday was Martin Luther King (MLK) Jr. Day, so teachers and students across our fair nation received a reprieve from school. [Hey! Read the part of that sentence after that comma: it's an Alexandrine! Totally unintended!] In his famous "I Have a Dream" speech, MLK said,

"I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of 'interposition' and 'nullification' -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; 'and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.' "

Last night I too had a dream, albeit less egalitarian and less inspirational than Dr. King's:

It's Saturday, and, for reason's I've forgotten, my usual SAT class has been cancelled. "What better than to take the Concord to Japan for a day trip?" I ask myself. So I hop on the plane, and because dream travel can be instantaneous, I'm there in less than the four hours I had expected aboard the Concord.

The only problem is that one when arrives at "Tokyo Airport," he's really in Narita, a city about one hour outside of Tokyo proper by Shinkansen, or the bullet train. [Reality note: when I missed my flight out of Japan last year, I spent 24 hours living at Tokyo-Narita International Airport. I lived off a waffle and a small salad, since that was all I could afford at the airport. I slept on top of my luggage to prevent theft, and wached CNN Headline News for all of my waking hours.] Narita of my dreams is a bustling city that has styled itself as a destination in itself, not a stop on the way to Tokyo. Its economy has developed around the tourism industry, and most shops and restaurants reflect this. There is a whole street devoted to soveigneirs, and peddlers hawk their goods from cute little wooden streetside stands.

For reasons I can't explain, Narita has only one public restroom, and since it is the only one in town, it's famous. Because it's right next to the airport, I decide to use it; I risk having to come all the way back here from some other part of the city if I tempt fate and pass up this opportunity. The public restroom is huge! There is a foray, one large room filled with sinks and mirrors, then a door that leads into a long hallway. Flanking the hallway are toilet stalls, and at the end is another door that leads to the urinals, more sinks, and some lockers. Although most men availing themselves of the lavatory appear local, there is a fair share for foreign (aka white) men relieving themselves as well.

I step outside and decide I must get to the Shinkansen, which will take me directly to Tokyo proper. [Reality note: The Shinkansen station actually lies directly under Tokyo-Narita Airport; one needn't search for it.] Due to the impromptu nature of my trip, I have failed to pack my trusty "Frommer's Guide to Japan," and thus have no maps to forestall the inevitable event that occurs whenever I'm in a foreign city (and often in domestic ones as well): my getting lost. So now I'm lost in Narita, and time's a-wasting.

I must take the bullet train, which I finally find, only to discover that I'm traveling in the wrong direction. I am somehow able to change directions mid-trip without getting off and reboarding. I must make a transfer before arriving in Tokyo, and the transfer station is actually an old, WWII-era Japanese battleship, still out in the water. That it's counter-productive to send the train out over the water and return for no reason does not occur to me in my slumbering state.

I am suddenly overtaken by an urge for manjuu (Japanese confections). [Reality note: I really did get the *best* manjuu from this manjuu house that also does a traditional tea ceremony. The majuu was so fresh, delicate and sweet.] Alas, my plans are again thwarted for want of a map. So I wander around, and finally end up in a toy store, in which MUN classes are also held. I run into Mr. Zilkowski, who reeks of smoke. He askes if I do; I respond "No, but I can smell that you do," and commense berating him for smoking and being a bad example. [Reality note: Mr. Zilkowski was my 10th grade chemistry teacher; he did not, to my knowledge, have a tobacco addiction.]

In the same toy store I discover Mr. Neville, who is training mun students for an international competition. He quizzes the students; they are savagely castigated for incorrect answers. [Reality note: Mr. Neville was our (strict if not occationally abrasive) MUN advisor who is now deceased. He periodically makes cameos in my dreams. Sometimes it occurs to me that he should be dead, and his resurrection is a thing of wonder; other times this does not occur to me.]

In the toy store I begin playing an arcade game, the goal of which is to lay railroad tracks fast enough for an approaching freight traveling on them. The game is actually fairly complex and requires special buttons to change camera angles frequently so that you can see the best way to place the tracks.

Here I run into Carissa and Jonathan (sans baby Isabelle). [Reality note: I saw Carissa and Jonathan at TGI Friday's in Cerritos recently without Isabelle. When asked "Where's the baby?" Carissa turned to Jonathan with a look of sheer horror and exclaimed, "My God! We've forgotten her again!"] Soon I see Shui, who said he also felt like taking a day trip to japan on his private jet [Reality note: Shui does not own a private jet, or any sort of private aviation transpo.] He is very candid about the purpose of his expedition: he is seeking a special type of "threading" hair removal process--available only in Japan--to treat his armpit hairs. Shui has heard that the Japanese have mastered this particular art, and will give him a very natural-looking result. [Reality note: His armpit hairs are somewhat prodigious.]

Shui announces that he is leaving on his jet, and offers me a ride. Jonathan and Carissa are going with him, and since I haven't bought my return ticket, going on his jet will be a great way to avoid getting stuck at the airport again. I accept his invitation, but regret having gotten lost, and missing some good shopping.