Japan Travel Show - Day 6&7

I have decided that I really love my life. God is so amazing. If you don’t know, now you know. Seriously, the blessings just keep coming and I’m running out of buckets to catch them. Guess it’s time to invest in a bathtub.

So . . . We just wrapped up our first day of filming in Kyoto. This city is absolutely NOTHING like Tokyo. No skyscrapers. No electronic billboards. No Lolitas, Goths, Punks, or Sebasitans. This city is very traditional. The main roads are lined with beautiful little shops and houses with the traditional tile roofs, rice-paper windows and sliding wooden doors. Ladies in silk kimonos and wooden shoes walk the streets. The surrounding hills are lush with bamboo groves and dotted with Zen Buddhist temples. The architecture here blends so well with the natural surroundings. I never thought that looking at architecture could genuinely be a calming experience but I’ve since learned otherwise. Ohmmmmm anybody?

First stop of the day was breakfast with the monks at a Zen monastery to learn more about Zen Buddhism and its strong influences on modern day Japanese culture. This was quite the experience. You hear me? We all sat on the tatami-covered floor, kneeling in what was possibly the most uncomfortable position that I can imagine. On the menu was a small bowl of rice porridge and a very small pickled plum. I had the feeling that the breakfast menu hadn’t rotated much since the days that Buda himself walked the earth. I’m not saying that didn’t taste good, because a brotha was hungry so I def tore that meal up . . . but lets just say that it was a far cry from the Sausage-and-Egg McGriddle super-value meal with OJ that I was hoping for. As we ate the head monk put a few grains of rice onto a wooden spatula and passed it down the table as all of the other monks did the same. After asking about this odd practice, we learned that during every meal the monks each offer up a little bit of their food to be placed outside to feed the birds, insects, and “spirits” of the forest. After the meal was over, everyone stayed seated as they washed their bowls with green tea and a slice of pickled radish. As hard as I scrubbed with that radish and tea, I still highly doubt that it did the same job that a sponge and some Lemon-Zest-Palmolive would.

When it came time to get up from the table I came to the frightening realization that I had lost all sensation in both of my legs. A panicked glance from my co host made it very apparent that he was in the same boat. The “Stanky Legg” that followed was quite the scene. For those of you in Singapre who may not be so familiar with the latest in urban dance moves, this one’s for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mf2KL0sV98&feature=related. Judging from the hearty laughter that ensued, I think we unintentionally provided these otherwise stoic monks with their dose of comic relief for the year 2009, albeit at our expense. (Okay, not going to lie, I just wanted to use the words “stoic” and “albeit” in the same sentence. Watch out y’all next time around I might throw in an “insofar as” or two.)

Next on the agenda – a lesson in Zen mediation from the head monk. He led us into yet another tattami-floored room with rice paper windows. The main difference was that in place of a table, this room had two rows of massive blue pillows. We sat down and he showed us the proper posture for meditation. Apparently the objective is to clear the mind and calm the heart, but I found it nearly impossible to have a clear mind while all I could think about was the fact that my legs looked and felt like they had just come off of the Auntie Anne’s assembly line. Pretzels anyone? Aparenly the monks come and meditate everyday. As they meditate, the head monk paces up and down with a bamboo rod whacking people in the back if they fall asleep. I received my fair share of these today. It doesn’t hurt at all – its actually quite massaging.

Next on the agenda was another “taxi-ride” filming. SERIOUSLY FUN MAN! While it is meant to look like there are only three of us in the car – 2 hosts and one driver . . . the reality is that there were five of us (the camera man and translator were also in the back seat). What made it fun was the fact that there was no room in the car for the producer. So with nobody there to tell us to hold back and tone down, we let it all go. It’s kind of like in elementary school when your teacher is sick for the day and you have a substitute teacher. Everyone has a bit of fun . . . you switch names with your best friend during role-call. You make up rules and tell the substitute “but our teacher always lets us . . .” Or you pretend you have a foreign accent and make up a story about how your family just moved to town (Am I the ONLY one who had a convincing Nigerian accent at age seven?) . . . Anwyay, what was I talking about again? Oh yah, filming without the producer is kind of like that . . . let’s just say we had some fun . . .

In other news, I FINALLY figured out where in the bible the verse “Jesus wept” comes from. It’s in John chapter 11 when Mary and Martha go to tell Jesus that Lazarus is dead. There’s some really good stuff in that chapter so if you haven’t read John 11, or if it’s been a while – I would highly recommend you check it out yo! For me it was a reminder that when tough times come, it’s only so God can show himself powerful over the situation in the end (John 11:4).

Until next time . . . Stay Blessed everybody!

Japan Travel Show - Days 3,4&5

Okay, so I’m going to combine the next three days of filming into one note, because honestly we have done and seen so much in these three days that I can’t keep track of what happened when.

Not to mention that these three days have all been spent filming one single “TV day.” What does that mean? It means that according to the script, all of the pieces which we have been filming will fall within ONE episode and therefore they all supposedly transpire over the course of ONE day. This also means that I have worn the same outfit for three days straight (now getting a bit itchy). And it means that the pimple that has courteously found its way into the middle of my forehead during this week of all weeks will appear and disappear from scene to scene over the course of this one “TV day” when the show airs. Freaking great . . . sighhh

Anyway. We have been zipping around Tokyo in a 12-seater van loaded with AV equipment and LOTS of Krispy Kreme donuts. Let the church say Amen. Let the church say Amen Again. Ehhemmmm, As I was saying . . . we’ve been zipping around Tokyo from one area to another to capture some general shots to be used as fillers, some street interviews, and some scripted scenes. I think I’m starting to figure out what I do and do NOT like about this whole TV show host thing . . .

First let me tell you about what I like . . . street interviews are really fun! For example the other day in Harajuku we met a girl who was dressed in a style that she calls “cyber angel.” She looked like a gothic Samurai from the waist down and like a party-warehouse-going-out-of-business-sale from the waist up. Her hair was the funkiest thing I had ever seen. She had braided all kinds of stuff into it. Rubber straws, pipe-cleaners, and yarn. LOTS of purple, orange, and yellow yarn. She was wearing super heavy black eye make up which looked like it had been applied in the dark. And she had about 40 metallic facial piercings. Seriously her face looked like it could de-magnetize every credit card and hotel room-key in a 2 mile radius. What was I talking about again? Oh yah, street interviews . . . so we had a chance to ask her all sorts of questions to really get insider her head. The psyche of a Tokyo teen is unbelievable!

One of the street interviews was with the driver of a velotaxi, a taxi with three wheels that is peddled, not motorized. Think Flintstones flintmobile with a Japanese twist, Got it? Anyway, this interview was TRULY interesting because of the way that it was filmed. Stay with me because this is going to require some brain power to follow this explanation. The Velo taxi has only 3 seats – one for the driver in front, and two for the passengers in the back. So with 2 hosts and a driver there was nowhere for the cameraman to sit. So, how did we film the interview? Glad you asked. First, Mark and I got in the taxi and the camera man filmed from afar as we rode up and down the block to get some general shots. Meanwhile, as the driver was driving and our microphone packs were off, we asked him all of the questions we would later get him to answer again once the cameraman was IN the taxi. That was filming #1. Then Mark got out of the car, the camera man got in, and the sound guy turned on my mic. Time for filming number two . . . only one issue: with limited pivot-room in the back of the taxi, the camera man could not film my questions AND the drivers responses – it was one or the other . . . so . . . the producer passed me a hand-held camcorder and asked me to extend my arm out of the window and film myself asking questions and talking to my “imaginary co-host” while the driver was driving. So I did just that. I pretended that the camera man sitting next to me was my co-host and I filmed myself having a one-sided conversation with him in Mandarin. Then I would ask the driver a question in English, and continue to film myself as I looked back at my imaginary co-host to translate the driver’s response into Chinese. I honestly don’t think I have ever used my brain this much in my life. I’m not sure what’s harder . . . actually DOING it at the time or trying to explain this to you now. Ugh.

Aside from street interviews, another thing that I really enjoy is pretend shopping. Literally all we have to do is pretend we are shopping while the camera man follows us around. The producer will shout “Michael, come down the escalator and make a right in front of the camera”; “Mark, flip through that rack of Hello Kitty boxer shorts and hold up a pair”; “Michael, sift through the stack of T-shirts and pick one out and examine it.” This is fun because it’s so simple and you really can’t mess up. It’s especially fun because there is a lot you can do with facial expressions too as you are trying to react “naturally” for very purposefully panned activities.

Oh, and also . . . we had a lot of fun today filming the opening scene at Tokyo 109 (The times square of Japan, remember?) We filmed the scene when the two hosts first bump into each other in the middle of a 5-way crossing in the midst of hundreds of moving people. The filming was cool because the camera man walked in front of me (backwards) through the massive crowd as he filmed me doing my best “I’m looking for a needle in a haystack” face. I don’t even know what it was that I enjoyed so much about this, but it was really, really fun. Like REALLY fun.

So those are the highlights. Now on the opposite end of the spectrum I have come to absolutely dread the “commentary” that we have to give at the end of each episode. Basically I have to give a 2 minute monologue to wrap up each episode by comparing and contrasting the cultural elements that we are witnessing here in Japan with what we know to be true in our own home countries.

The issue is that I have to do this all in Chinese! GASP! Now I will have you know that my Chinese is not too shabby for an American kid, but my vocabulary stops at an elementary school level. So giving a 2 minute dissertation on topics like societal norms, ecological conscientiousness, and government involvement in constructing cultural courtesy is admittedly a BIT out of my league. So what ends up happening is the research writer scrips the whole thing for me in language that I can barely understand, much less memorize. It is even more awkward when there is a whole AV crew standing watching me struggle under the pressure, and passers by stop to scope out the scene as well. Let’s just say I average about 15 takes for each of the 2 minute commentaries that I am asked to give. . . and just when I’m on a roll, you can bet that a police siren, or helicopter, or dying crow will be picked up by the microphone and interrupt my flow. Oh LAWD. Please pray for me y’all.

Anyway, I’m about half way done with the filming. Should be home on Sunday night. Can’t wait to move into my new condo ASAP so I can finally sleep in my own bed again after 3 weeks.

Flying off to Kyoto tomorrow morning to film the last episode. Should be cool.

Layter Dayz.

Japan Travel Show - Day 2

I’ll make this one short and sweet because it’s late and my bed is calling my name.

Today was really fun. I’m realizing more and more what a HUGE blessing it is to be given an opportunity like this: an all-expenses-paid 10-day holiday in Japan! Yup, God is pretty dope.

We start every day at 9:50 in the Hotel lobby with a briefing of the day’s shooting schedule. I wish all things in life could start AFTER 9:30am. This I could get used to.

First on the agenda was a visit to an 8-storey shopping mall that specializes in some of the funky sub-culture fashions that Tokyo is so well known for. Jane, our resident “fixer” has some serious connections and got us all-access-passes for filming whatever we wanted within the mall.

It was absolutely INSANE! Apparently there are themes to the various counter-culture fashions in Japan. First there is “Lolita” which is one of the more wholesome images. Imagine Little-Bow-Peep meets Strawberry-Shortcake. Lots of bows, frills, lace, pink, white, and child-like bliss. Jane tried on a couple of outfits while the camera man filmed our whole Lolita shoping experience. Then there is “Punk” which is exactly what I expected it to be. Next stop was the Goth shop – and apparently it was my turn to try on the outfit. Gasp! They dressed me up in a style that the Tokyo kids call “Sebastian.” Imagine this – white button-down shirt with SUPER HIGE collar. Circulation-inhibiting black pants. A metal-studded black kilt around the waist. A four-button black vest (with coat tails) and a black top-hat! I looked like Abraham Lincoln on the set of an Avril Lavigne music video. Totally laughable. It was nothing I would ever dream of wearing in a million years, but the gothic female store attendants all through I was pretty hot stuff with my “new look” so I posed for a couple of pictures in the most gothic way I knew how. Lots of Ozzy-Osbourne-style tongue action.

As we eventually made our way to the ground-floor, I started seeing a couple of things that I would actually wear. Funky T-shirts, hoodies, and caps. The producer wanted to see how the store clerks wrap pieces that are to be given as gifts – as the Japanese are well know for their gift wrapping presentation – so I volunteered to buy a T-shirt for my friend Abiel as a demo. (Abiel, bro, you better tune in when the episode airs so you see the whole process!)

Next stop was the Tokyo City Hall where the producer, script writer and “Fixer” had a meeting with the local government officials to ensure all filming permits and other documents were in order before we did any “general shooting” of the mass public.

While the meeting was going on, the rest of us went for an AMAZING ramen lunch. A hot bowl of Japanese ramen tastes SO good on a cold day! (The weather here is like 60F/17C this time of year – so really comfortable!)

Next stop was the heart of the City: Tokyo 109. This is where all of the action happens. It is like the Times Square of Japan. There is even one place where you can stand and watch masses of people crossing the street in 5 different directions at once! And amazingly, NOBODY bumps into one another. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so many people in my life. We filmed a couple of short scripted scenes and then started the fun part: street interviews! Me and my co-host pulled random folks off of the street and grilled them on anything and everything under the sun pertaining to our views and perceptions of the Japanese culture.

Our filming was rudely interrupted by a bunch of raucous American college kids who were on a “World Tour” with their wack-tastic A Cappella group. They reminded me exactly why I quit singing A Cappella in college, and exactly why God created instruments. Get out of here with that zhen-da-zhen-doooh-doo-dwaaaaayyyy-doooohhhh. Arigato very much.

Well that’s all for now . . . tomorrow we’re doing shopping in Harajuku . . . should be really interesting!

Japan Travel Show - Day 1

The adventure started off at 9:30pm at Singapore’s Changi Airport. I meet up with the producer, script writer, camera crew, sound technician, and my co-host. Everyone was energized and ready to go. We all checked in together – and after watching in shock at the insane level of scrutiny with which the airport staff went through the equipment bags - I understood why we were asked to be there so many hours before the actual departure time. I tell you man, Singapore airport security is no joke . . . NO JOKE!

ANA, which is a sponsor of the show, upgraded me and Mark to business class which was a pretty rock-star way to kick off the trip. Now, personally, my favorite part of the business class experience is the pre-flight experience: the business class lounge . . . sigh . . . that place is like heaven for a 23 year-old with tired feet and a big appetite. Dim lighting, smooth jazz, a selection of armchairs, art deco fish tanks, free gourmet buffet, and more lots-of-pulp orange juice than I can possibly consume in one lifetime. It is pretty much what I envision the garden of Eden to be like. Minus a serpent and some nudity . . .

As I boarded the flight the producer passed me a paper mask and reminded me about the numerous cases of swine flu that Japan is currently experiencing. I smiled graciously and took it from her, knowing full well I had no intention of wearing the mask . . . Whatever, bring it on, oink oink . . . Seriously though, if I’m sitting next to a passenger with swine flu, a piece of paper with some rubber bands will be of little protective benefit. Plus I had a feeling I’d forget to take it off when I took the first sip of my OJ and end up with a mess on my lap. And NOBODY wants to be “that sloppy kid” in Business class. You hear me? Nobody! As Beyonce once said – that’s not a good look. Anyway, I don’t know what company manufactures these silly masks, but at least SOMEBODY is making a healthy profit in this horrible economy.

Anyway, I digress, (I’ve always wanted to use that saying). Ehhhemmmm . . . The flight was quick and painless I fell asleep within 30 minutes of take off and slept the whole night through. Something that a six-foot-two American can ONLY do with Business class leg-room. Airplane sleep is never “quality rest” but this time was okay lah!

Once at Tokyo Narita International Airport the script writer gave us a run-down of the day’s itinerary. She told me I had better change into my outfit for the first day of filming before the bus came, so she helped me rummage through my suitcase for something that was weather appropriate and would look good on camera. Being color blind I usually require a lot of fashion guidance. So this was great! I wish I had a personal stylist EVERYDAY!

When I came out from changing in the bathroom our party seemed to have grown in number. “Michael … this is the fixer” said the producer as she introduced me to this new face among us. “Fixer?” I said curiously as I extended my hand toward a tall slim Japanese girl. “Hi Mike, I’m Jane, and I’m a fixer.” Hmmmm

– PRESS PAUSE -

So after much discussion I uncovered that this girl’s sole job is to fix things. To solve problems. That is her job. That is what she does. It doesn’t matter what KIND of problem: big or small, international or domestic. In this case the TV station has employed her to be our translator/tour guide/travel planner. Do not call her a consultant, because apparently that is TOTALLY different and mildly offensive to any professional “Fixer.”

– PRESS PLAY -

So the whole gang of us piled into a van and headed for our first location shoot of the day: An old Kendo Dojo.

Kendo is an ancient Japanese Martial Art – with history imbedded in Samurai traditions. And a Dojo is a school where teachers instruct students in Kendo and other such traditional martial arts. Got it? The building was gorgeous; big traditional wooden columns with tile roof, well manicured rock gardens and a massive carved sign hanging over the main entrance door. We were told that we must bow and take off our shoes before entering so of course we obliged. The Japanese ALWAYS remove their shoes before entering a home, temple, dojo, or even a department store dressing room. Crazy right? We explored for a while as the cameramen took some general shots of the premises.

Eventually we found the room we were looking for: Kendo Class. Imagine this – twenty women, all in their mid-to-late-fifties dressed in navy blue traditional outfits, wearing fencing masks, welding three-foot-long bamboo swards and screaming at the top of their lungs while they attack each other. Un-be-freaking-lievable. It was like watching stolen cable TV in the ghetto where the channels blur together the higher you click and somehow The Ninja Turtles met The Golden Girls somewhere on channel 274. WOW

I was in shock for the first 15 minutes just sitting there wide-eyed on the hardwood floor taking it all in. Then I realized that the camera man was filming my reaction from the opposite end of the room. So I quickly put on “the cool face.” Shut up, you know you have one too. The face you use when you are pretending not to know that you really DO know that someonw who matters is looking at you. Hold that pose. Yes, that's the one. One of the women there was a Singaporean Chinese lady named Wendy who has been living in Japan for 20+ years with her family. We spent a few minutes interviewing her and the Sense about the Dojo and the art form. Turns out that these crazy ladies become normal demure members of the Japanese female population after the Kendo lesson is over. Mildly hard to believe . . .

After running into half a dozen Japanese ladies with 6-foot long bow-and-arrows we decided that was our cue to leave. So we all went to lunch at the Japanese equivalent of Denny’s. Tasty, Cheap, Family food. mmmMMMm.

Next stop – Wendy’s house for more filming. We got a chance to take a look at how Japanese families live. Very different from anything that I am used to. They eat on the floor, sleep on the floor, even sit on the floor while surfing the net or doing homework. I guess the elderly Japanese must all have strong knees.

Wendy showed us how she packs a bento-box lunch for her daughter everyday before school. Separate compartments for rice, meat, and salad. Super healthy. And eco friendly too! No waste at all! Then after packing the lunch, she wraps it in traditional Japanese fabric called furoshiki. Aparenly the Japanese are obsessed with packaging – everything must look SUPER presentable. Wendy told us that even when she brings bottles of wine to a friend’s place for a dinner party she will wrap it in fabric for the presentation and then bring the fabric home to re-use.

We ended off the day with a home cooked meal at Wendy’s house. She made fresh miso soup, macaroni salad, grilled salmon, AND, she made my favorite food in the world: FRIED CHICKEN! Let the church say AMEN.

Being that we hadn’t slept in proper beds the night before, we were all pretty beat. So we excused ourselves and headed to the hotel where we checked in and called it a night. In my tiny Tokyo hotel room I did the move that we over-worked twenty-something’s know all to well – the “OMG-I’m-so-tired-clothing-peel-off-as-I-crawl-toward-the-don’t-know-if-I-even-have-enough-energy-to-brush-my-ZZzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzZZZZZZ.” – yah that move.

Sydney . . . more than just a character from Brown Sugar

So, I realize I haven’t been great at this whole “blogging” thing. Actually, I don’t know anybody who IS good about regularly updating their blog. The way I look at it, it’s kinda like signing up for a Gym membership . . . when you first start you are SUPER gung ho about it, and then after a while the ambition just fizzles out. Well, at least you don’t need to pay a monthly fee to blog . . . and at least nobody calls you obese while you do it (or don’t do it). And at least blogging doesn’t require communal showering with old Chinese men. I just feel like you can only blog about life after you live it, so live first & blog later . . . or never. Right?

Anyway, just to make you jealous, I’m writing this update from the upper deck of a Boing747, in a huge, plush, ergonomic, business class seat with enough leg room for Michael Jordan! I’m sipping complimentary Champaign as I fly over continental Australia and read an assortment of international newspapers . . . siiiighhhh, life is tough . . . With that said, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one in business class listening to Music Soul Child on my iPod . . .

So this latest business trip has been pretty interesting. Here’s the background: my boss is on vacation, so I was asked to give a 90 minute presentation on his behalf at a one-day conference in Sydney, Australia for all of our General Managers in Australia, New Zealand & the South Pacific Islands. Needless to say I was SUPER nervous. My presentation was on Tuesday, and there was to be a run-through on Monday night, so I decided to get in on Sunday to have the day to explore Sydney (it’s been four years since my last visit!)

The trip to Australia was INTERESTING to say the least. My company has a policy that we fly business class for any trip that is longer than four hours, and the flight from Singapore to Sydney is about seven hours . . . so you know what that means . . . When I called the company travel agent to book the flight, he told me that the aircraft was the new Airbus A380! SWEEEEET, business class on the A380! Well, it turned out that I had celebrated a bit too early, because when I reached the Singapore airlines check in desk at the Singapore Airport, they informed me that there was in issue with the ticket. The conversation that ensued went something like this:
LADY: “I see that you have a seat booked in business class, but for some reason the ticket was issued at an economy class rate.”
MIKE: “Ummm . . . okay, so what exactly does that mean?”
LADY: “It means that if you want to fly economy class then you have to fly standby”
MIKE: “Economy class? No, I want to fly business class”
LADY: “Then you will need to top-up an additional $3,000”
MIKE: “On whose credit card? The travel agent made the booking on the corporate card, which I don’t have on me right now.”
LADY: “Well we aren’t authorized to charge the balance to that card unless you can present it here now.”
MIKE: “Well I don’t have the corporate card on me, so what should I do?”
LADY: “Sounds like you need to keep your fingers crossed that you can get on Economy Class as a standby passenger”
MIKE: “Why would I have to fly standby if you already have a seat in my name?”
LADY: “Because the seat booked for you is in business class”
MIKE: “So . . . you’re telling me that there is a seat in business class with my name on it and it will sit empty unless I top up $3,000?! Meanwhile I won’t even be guaranteed a seat in Economy class?”
LADY: “exactly”
MIKE: “Well if it’s going to sit empty why can I just sit there without paying the balance? What difference does it make where I sit, a seat is a seat right?”
LADY: “Wrong. Things are more expensive in business class, the champaign, the meals, the entertainment systems, even the blankets and pillows.”
MIKE: “Okay, I see where you’re going with this . . . How bout I make you a deal. You let me sit in business class, and I won’t eat ANY of the meals, drink ANY of the Champaign, I won’t even look at the magazines . . . damn, I won’t even take the blanket out of the plastic wrapper! I’ll even walk back to economy class to use the bathroom!”

. . . needless to say, she wasn’t having it and my 6’2” behind was in ECONOMY class for that WHOLE seven hour flight. (At least I’m flying business class for the return leg of the trip)

I reached Sydney early Sunday Morning and wasn’t feeling too well. It was cold and rainy. I had totally forgotten that it was winter in Australia. . . The southern hemisphere is pretty hopeless when it comes to seasonal conformity. I knew things were going my way again when my suitcase was the first one off of the aircraft (probably because it was the LAST one onto the aircraft after my prolonged argument with the lady at the check in desk.) I hopped into a taxi and headed for the hotel. I thought it would be fun if I pretended to use an Aussie accent and see if the locals could tell the difference. I practiced on the taxi driver, but he wasn’t from Australia, so he had no idea either way. I feel like there is an international unspoken rule that all taxi drivers have to be immigrants. I felt like I was in NYC. My driver told me he was from Iraq. Then he asked me where I was from “GULP . . . um . . . Canada” I said. I simply did not have the energy to enter into a heated discussion about president Bush’s approach to foreign policy and international relations at 5am on a Sunday morning.

I reached the hotel, checked in and CRASHED! I woke up a few hours later, went to the hotel gym, showered, changed, and walked around the city for a while.

- PRESS PAUSE –

News flash from my current plane ride. Is it weird that both of the captains just left the cockpit at the same time to use the bathroom? Who is driving this plane? Oh Lord . . . if this laptop is found amongst airplane rubble in the Australian outback, tell my parents I love them!

- PRESS PLAY -

Anyway, it was Sunday, and I hadn’t been to church in a couple of weeks, so I found an afternoon service at Hillsong Church and made my way there. Service was really good. The pastor talked about how important it is to wake up in the morning and not let yourself think “Man another day of my monotonous routine, shower, dress, work, eat, home, sleep” BUT RATHER, we should wake up and say to ourselves “Man! I’ve never had this day before! I can’t wait to see what opportunities, people, and experiences God has in store for me today!” I thought that was a good outlook, I could probably use a bit of a perspective shift in that area of my life. Everybody at the church was super friendly. It was the type of church where people POUNCE on you if you look like you’re new, or alone, or bored, or Jewish . . . after successfully dodging a few “pounces” and not so successfully dodging a few more, I made my way back to the hotel.

That night my friend Glenn came by and picked me up and took me out for a thorough Australian cultural induction with his friend Dean. We went to a cool area of town called “Newtown” and had African food for diner . . . (okay, maybe not such an Australian cultural induction) . . . we had no idea what to order, but the restaurant manager was really friendly. His name was frank. He picked a menu for us. It was AMAZING! There was some African flat bread that tasted like Crepes, some rice, some yellow “not-rice” (stuff which looked and tasted like rice but I am told it is absolutely NOT rice). There were three vegetable dishes which all tasted strangely like meat and pizza sauce. And then there were 3 lamb dishes. . . . well Frank says they were lamb dishes. I told him I was up to his tricks, “I have lots of African friends, and I know goat when I taste it!” I told him! Oh Foolish Frank . . . sigh . . .

After dinner we went out for Gellatto and, Glen and Dean gave me an official tour of an Australian grocery store, pointing out all of the most important local candy, ice cream, and drinks. Everytime I mentioned I had never tried something, they bought it for me! Now I could get used to that type of hospitality! We ended the night back at Dean’s place hanging out on his balcony taking in the fantastic view of the city. After noticing a couple of my jet-lagged yawns, Glen offered to drive me back to the hotel. As he dropped me off he gave me an Aussie soccer jersey that he had bought for me earlier that day. How cool is that!? “SWEET MAAYTE! OI’LL WEEEAR IIT WIIITH PROIYDE!” I shouted back to the car in my best aussie accent as I walked toward the hotel!

The next day, Monday, I woke up sick as a dog, but I had lots of work to get done in preparation for the big presentation so I buckled down in the hotel room, put up the Do Not Disturb sign and started plugging away on my laptop. I met up with some colleagues on Monday night to do a run through of the presentation, which made me feel much more at ease. Lucky for me there was a SUBWAY right next to my hotel, so I had ALL of my meals there on Monday. For those of you who may not know, I LOVE sandwiches. And strangely enough my little sister shares this same love for them! If I had to choose one single food to eat every meal for the rest of my life, I would have a sandwich. Hmmm . . . my mouth is watering just typing this.

The next day was the big presentation. It went really well and I got lots of great feedback and encouragement from all of the GMs in the audience. I think they found the information really helpful, which is really all that mattered. After the presentations and meetings there was a cocktail party which was great for networking and catching up with some of my colleagues in the Sydney office. One of the Regional General Managers had a bit too much to drink and started telling everyone EXACTLY how he felt about them. Luckily he likes me.

At around 7pm I excused myself from the cocktail party to run up to my room and change before meeting Mr. and Mrs. Wykes (some family friends) for dinner. But I didn’t even make it as far as the lobby when I heard a loud, shrill Aussie voice shout my name across the lobby. Sure enough it was Mrs. Wykes. With a big hug she swept me off into the car where Mr. Wykes was waiting. After a long discussion about where to eat they decided to take me on a scenic tour of Sydney, and we finally ended up at a beach-side seafood restaurant called Doyles (supposedly the best in town)! It was a really still and quiet evening, and the view was amazing, we could see the city from across the bay all lit up at night. Dinner was great, we laughed all night and they told me stories about their kids who are working in Dubai.

After dinner they took me out for Gelato and Bondi Beach and we walked around a bit more. Surprisingly I remember a lot of surroundings from my time in Sydney four years ago. All in all I had a great evening. They dropped me back at the hotel where I fell straight to sleep after a long hard day of work and play.

That brings us to today! I got up early, ordered room service, packed, checked out and headed to the airport. Traveling business class is SUCH a great experience. I can totally understand how people could get spoiled by this. You get a special pass to get expedited through EVERY line. The ticket line, the immigration/customs line, the security line, you even get a separate entrance to board the airplane and avoide the boarding line! Not to mention the great business class lounge with free wireless, and free flow Champaign.

Anyway, long story short . . . God is Good. And friends are crucial. Amen, Amen, and Amen again!

So . . . this job is great. I didn't realize how serious my project was untill I attended the first team meeting today. It was SO corporate. Out of the 10 people on the project team, 9 are SVPs. And then there's me . . . As we sat around the table in the super-high-tech conference room people dialed in from Sydney, Shanghai, and Hong Kong. I sat back in my ergonomically-designed, lumbar-supportive, fully-ventilated rolling chair with a casual smile. "I am officially a international business man" I thougt to myself with a smile. But not a big smile, I had to play it cool, couldn't let it show that I was UBER excited. I am having a blast. The meeting was amazing, I have never worked on a team with such sharp minds before. Even my BEST project team at Statler High doesn't begin to come close to these folks. That's about all I can tell you. I had to sign a NDA promissing not to tell anyone about the details of my project. It is TOP secret. I thought that was pretty cool.

Anyway, long story short . . . work is great. I got my business cards today:

"Michael D. Blanding - Brand Marketing Executive."

Tell me that's not cool?! Praise God for that.

So after work, Andrea and I met up with some friends and we went out for Sushi. This kid named Joe came with us too. Joe knows everyone and everyone knows Joe. I knew he was kind of a big deal when we walked into the Sushi bar and all of the staff knew him by name. I readily gathered that Joe was a good person to know in this part of the world.

So after sushi, we all went out to this Jazz bar called "Actors." Aparenly it's a jam bar where all the musicians go to perform. Nothing structured. You basically just get up on stage when you're feelin the groove. Anybody can perform. I made the mistake of telling this American guy Ken that I'm a singer. As soon as the sentence "yah, I sing" escaped my lips I knew I was going to regret it. For the next hour people were trying to pressure me to get up on stage and do a little "somethin-somethin." I told them no, but inside I really wanted to. Haha, yah I guess I’m one of those types. But how could I get up there and sing? Seriousely? I was in a smokey bar full of people I didn’t know. And worst of all, EVERYONE in the audience was a musician. A talented musician. (Musicians are the most critical bunch of people to sing in front of. They’re simply unforgiving.) I thought about having a few drinks to loosen up, but I really don't like the taste of alcohol. Plus I was worried that I might sound even worse if I were drunk.

After an hour and a half of my friends nagging me to go up there, I finally mustered up the courage to do it. I grabbed the mic and leaned over to ask the piano player if he knew the Jazz classic “Summertime.” He did. I looked so out of place. I hadn’t had a chance to change after leaving the office so I was wearing kaki pants and a tucked-in navy blue polo shirt. I turned to the crowd “Everybody feelin alright tonight?” I asked. People clapped and hooted. “Y’all mind if I slow it down and smooth it out right quick?” again, clapping and cheering. (Who was that? I wondered to myself. Did I just say that?) The next 6 minutes were a total out of body experience. I had the band start the song slow, and then picked it up in the middle. I was seriousely working the crowd. People at the bar who hadn't been paying attention all night turned around, folks were even coming in from the balcony to see who was singing. I'm usually not one to brag, but maaaannnn . . . I tore it up. I ended the song by having all the musicians solo one by one. The applause was crazy, I was on a high. For the rest of the night people kept telling me how well I sang. Not gonna lie, it felt really good. I guess everybody needs a bit of that ego boosting every now and then.

Just out of Reach . . .

Today was house hunting day. Yah, yah, I know, it’s a work day . . . well I may or may not have snuck out for a two-hour “lunch break.” And this “lunch break” may or may not have taken place after my ACTUAL one-hour lunch break. But seriousely? How can I be expected to do good work for this company unless I have the peace of mind that comes with knowing that I have a roof over my head at the end of the day? So really, I would argue that my house hunting excursion of sorts, was very much work related. It’s funny how bold we employees get when the big boss is out of town.

I don’t think I will ever be able to get over how much Singaporeans LOVE to text message. And y’all thought I was bad? I was shocked when my Realtor text me before even calling/emailing me. My boss sends me text messages regularly requesting updates while she is in Shanghai. People here even get their cell phones linked to their bank accounts so that they can transfer payments via text message. It’s pure insanity. According to the Guinness book of world records, the citizens of Singapore have the fastest average texting speed of any country in the world. WOW! My question is . . . who cared enough to measure that nonsense?

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yah . . . HOUSE HUNTING. So I skipped out from work at 1:30pm with my colleague Andrea, and my realtor picked us up to view two apartments. The first one was GORGEOUS! It was brand new, fully furnished with hardwood floors and oak furniture. It was HUGE too. Everything about it was perfect. It even smelled great. The apartment had fantastic facilities: three tennis courts, squash courts, a huge fitness center and an enormous swimming pool surrounded by palm trees and flowers. It looked like a resort. There were waterfalls pouring into the swimming pool, there was even a waterslide and playground for kids (in the pool! You hear me? A playground IN the pool) It made me wish I was 7 yrs old again. There was a rock climbing wall, a Balinese garden, and a fish pond. And get this; the gym was in a glass-encased room BEHIND a waterfall. Anyway, there was a concierge desk and everything. The only problem was that the apartment was a TINY bit out of my price range, a reality was REALLY painful for me. I think I had fallen in love. Sigh . . . I was really glad to have Andrea there cuz she knew all the right questions to ask. Without her I woulda been up a creek without a paddle. Pardom my use of cheesy expressions. She also brought me back down to earth when she explained to me that spending 2/3 of my salary on apartment rental is simply NOT WISE.

Anyway, the second place that we looked at was GARBAGE compared with the first. It was dark and dingy and had a view of a parking garage. Gross. I set one foot in the door and gave my realtor the “absolutely not” look. This is a look which I have mastered after three years of hanging out with Crystal Thomas. We hopped back in the cab and went back to the office. The cab driver on the way back was HILLARIOUS! Like, ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL. My Singlish is VERY GOOD for an Ang-mo (translation: caucasian) but this guy’s accent was SO ridiculously thick even I couldn’t understand half of what he was saying. He was laughing, and talking and telling jokes. It didn’t seem to bother him that Andrea and I couldn’t understand the punch lines well enough to know when to laugh. We tried to humor him the best we could. The most noteworthy among his comedy repertoire was a joke something along the lines of “Wai dos arfabett last time got 26 retter, now got 24 retter? Becos E & T phone home!” As soon as we stepped out of the cab the two of us BURST into laughter that we had been suppressing the whole cab ride. Andrea doubled over and nearly laid down in the street. I was laughing so hard I walked into a parking meter. Ouch.

Back at the office the day finished up pretty well. After hours of conference calls and back-and-forth price negotiations with our web design agency, we finally got our Holiday Inn promo website launched. Check it out and vote! http://www.hi-everydayhero.com/. Actually, even better, submit your story and enter the contest. Maybe you can use the prize to come visit me in Singapore.