Man, this month rocketed by. I glanced down at my keyboard for a moment, picked my nose a bit then looked back up and, suddenly, it was the end of November. What gives? How did this happen?

I did learn earlier this month how unkind government officials can be to those related to their own people. Also, how much you really can come to take for granted a country like Japan and it’s requisite politeness and kindness towards the linguistically ignorant until you encounter the willful, mean-spirited type of ignorance of those running certain embassies that need to give you a VISA for entering their territory. Oh, how great to be an American in those instances. Perhaps a sentiment like this will only one day cause backlash given the current conditions in Happy Obliviousland (the one besides the US) with its condemnation of freedom advocates, but, yes, my veil of naivete is getting tugged off. Perhaps that’s a good thing.

Back in Hamada, temperatures have been going down, though gradually, faltering occasionally at warm, with leaves changing color as promised by all who nihongo de hanasuru.

Some attempted shots with the camera phone:

This is from the top of a small mountain hike in Mito, the area where my friend Ryan lives.

Trying to get a clearer shot of the leaves. Can’t really do the real thing justice.

Outside view from inside an elementary school. Caught a rainbow that day. Sorry it’s a bit fuzzy.

From the other side of the building.

The emerging vibrant colors are quite distracting during classes when I sometimes find my eyes drifting towards the windows onto the view of the lush mountains that surround my junior high school. We’re all just waiting for snow to arrive and dust over the deciduous rainbow; by then El Toppo’ll hopefully have snow tires on and be satisfying my constant urge to head for the hills.

Speaking of impulse, in step with the wannabe-Beat inside, I began reading Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac this month. To add to the cheese, I even bought the recent republication with a cover drawn by Norwegian comic artist, Jason. Jason already tips the awesome scale by himself, so how could I pass this combination up? Even without judging by the cover, this current read hits the spot. I love the Beat Generation and this book and not for any proposed profundity in purpose or efforts at spirituality, but just the desires and antsiness of the protagonists feel real no matter what time period you live in. Phooey to living by society’s mode of responsibility. Get on your feet! Take to the road! Take to the woods! Oh man, that’s definitely where it’s at. Plus Kerouac is like one of the kings of run-on sentences. Those who’ve been rolling their eyes, once their eyes stop rolling and reposition back onto the screen, must comprehend why he’s got a particular gushing fan.

A transition now to fragments.

I followed up on an invitation mentioned a while back, and gained a full stomach, warmth, a sample of nostalgia, and a potential new reader. He may be a Grateful Deadhead, but there’s nothing dead about his adventurous spirit.

When you travel, you inevitably meet other travelers. It’s amazing how this unspoken system with its amorphous network works. You don’t need freakin’ Facebook. You just find each other. You click. Whatever trust you chuck out ends up coming back some way or another. Think I’ll keep holding my faith in that.

I felt rather down a few weeks ago, though later felt a little better again. The worse sadness is seeing the thing inside yourself that you can’t control, no matter how many times you’ve recognized and labeled it, eat away at an experience that should otherwise be simple and happy. To see another person frustrated by what already frustrates you can hurt quite a bit. Maybe someday someone who truly has the ability to understand will press their finger to your brow, trace the creases, and somehow read a message that unfolds the rest of their arms to loop them around you, tie you down in place with no intention of letting go.

Maybe.

Till then, just follow the autumn rainbow up through the hills to whatever glorious sunsets that await.

Feels good to breathe free.