Sushi Cam

Here’s a fun video I discovered a couple of months ago. I’m not sure why I didn’t share it before. At a sushi bar in Japan, the dishes are served on a conveyer belt. Patrons take the food they want as it comes to them. Here, a young woman has placed her digital video camera on the conveyer to let it make its 7-1/2 minute trip through the restaurant. The result is strangely mesmerizing:

As I say, I watched this a few months ago, but dismissed it as a novelty. But I’ve thought about the video many times since. I love the way it captures so many small moments.

It’s enthralling.

In Dreams

Because I have sleep apnea and spend my nights strapped to a C-PAP machine, I don’t dream very often. If I remember to take my melatonin before bed, I’ll sometimes have dreams, but mostly my nights are a blank slate. (I’m sure I’m actually dreaming, of course, but I just don’t remember the dreams upon waking.) A couple of weeks ago, though, I had a fine pair of dreams. Very vivid.

Dream #1

Kris and I were joining Chris and Jolie to see a movie in northwest Portland. For some reason, we were meeting them at the Mini dealership in southwest Portland. When we met, there was an hour before the movie began, so I suggested we walk over to the theater. We did. As we were leaving the dealership, we passed through a coffeeshop attached to it (which doesn’t exist in reality), and I accidentally knocked a newspaper from some lady’s hands. Chris caught it as it fell, and I was all apologetic.

The four of us walked to the (imaginary) theater in northwest Portland, but we were way early (which wouldn’t be true in real life — the walk would have been just the right amount of time). Fortunately, the theater was attached to a large used bookstore (not Powell’s). Also fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), the bookstore contained a huge stash of comics-as-books that I’ve been hunting for. And for cover price (instead of marked up at collectors prices). I was ecstatic, and set aside a stack of them to purchase.

Then I saw that my brother Jeff was there. He and I began to talk. Jolie came to tell me that it was time for the movie to start, so I went to find my stack of books, but they were gone! I was frantic! I didn’t want to let these bargains slip away. I couldn’t find them anywhere. I looked under a bed (why was there a bed in the middle of a bookstore?) but they weren’t there. (There were, however, other comics-as-books that I wanted, so I grabbed them.) Ultimately, I had to leave without my books, and I was very sad. I did not enjoy the movie.

Dream #2

The four of us are coming out of a building (the theater in dream #1?) and we see a puzzling sight. We’re in southeast Portland now, over by Woodstock and 39th. All of the buildings are shifted off their foundations. In fact, most of them are collapsed and demolished. “Was there an earthquake?” we keep asking the people, but they’re wandering around in a daze and not answering us.

Chris and Jolie go their own way while Kris and I ride the bus (?!?!?) home, looking at the devastation as we ride. “I wonder if our house has collapsed,” I say, but we decide that it probably hasn’t because the foundation is embedded deep in the earth (not true). When we get home, the house is fine, but all of the houses around it have collapsed.

Neighborhood Watch

There’s a little white house that lives up the street. It’s a small house on a small lot, but otherwise I think it’s kind of cute. I’m not sure that anyone lives there right now — the yard certainly isn’t maintained.

For the past couple of weeks, there’s been a manual reel mower sitting in the front yard. It was sitting upright, as if somebody had stopped in mid-mow, but eventually it fell to the ground. The grass has been growing up around it: the hunter has become the hunted!

Yesterday, however, I noticed that the mower had been moved. It was ditched at the top of the hill in somebody else’s yard. Someone — probably a kid — had wheeled it a few hundred feet and then discarded it. “I ought to put it back where it belongs,” I thought. But I didn’t do it.

That’s okay, though. This afternoon as I was walking home, I noticed that the mower had been returned to the exact position from which it had been taken. That, my friends, is neighborliness!

Bad Haircut

Out of sheer laziness, I’ve begun to get my hair cut at Great Clips. It’s right next to Safeway, so it’s easy to go there when I’m picking up groceries. I don’t particularly care for their cuts, but Kris likes them. They generally give me the same cut every time, too, which is nice, because they’ve put my preferences into their computer.

Today, however, I got something…a little different.

When I walked in, I was pleased to discover there was no wait. Alexis was able to cut my hair right away. “How would you like your hair cut?” she asked, which I thought was odd, since the info is right there in the computer.

“Well, I usually get it clipper-cut on the side with a Four, and then I like it longer on top. Basically, I need a standard businessman’s haircut.”

“So you want about half an inch off the top?” asked Alexis, holding up my hair to illustrate. It was about two inches long.

“Sure,” I said. “That sounds about right.”

Alexis began to fuss with her implements. “I hate this chair,” she told me. “It’s too far away from my stuff. My cord won’t reach.” To make things work, she had to spin me around so I was facing the back of the shop. We chatted briefly, but not much — just the way I like it.

“Do you use product?” Alexis asked a few minutes later.

“Not much,” I said. “I have some at home, but I don’t use it often.”

“Would you like me to put some in your hair today?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“And do you part your hair?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “To the left.”

“There you go,” she said. “I think we’re finished.”

When she spun me around to look in the mirror, I just about died. My haircut was not at all like we’d talked about. Alexis didn’t take half an inch off the top; she left half an inch. She didn’t give me a standard businessman’s haircut. She gave me some hipster doofus cut. I looked like…like…well, like this:

O, my fragile heart. What could I do, though? I tried not to look shocked, thanked her, and left a two-dollar tip. I walked over to Safeway to do my shopping, but the whole time I felt mortified, as if everyone were snickering at my new hair.

“It’s not so bad,” Kris said when I got home. How could she say that? For years, she’s been refusing to let me get a short haircut. And now I have one by accident and she likes it? It makes my head look like an enormous melon!

“It’s really not so bad,” Kris said again.

“I almost don’t want to go to the party tonight,” I said.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Go to the party. In fact, I’ll make a bet with you. I bet nobody says a thing about your hair.”

I went, and Kris was right. (Kris Gates is always right, isn’t she?) Nobody said a thing about my hair. But I know that they were snickering on the inside!