After many hours in the air, over the Great Lakes, and then the Bering Straights, I find myself back in Japan: #9, #9, #9.  The trip over was chiefly somnambulant, punctuated by reading, “Savages,” watching, “The Artist,” and drinking beer and gin while sustaining myself on chicken.

It’s easy here if you embrace the rules: Hug them to death.

Late arrival and this A.M. early, jet-lag induced consciousness.  Soon it’ll be seeing Endo-san for unagi and then a stroll and then back on the plane only this time to Sin City.

Where is that?  Well, you might ask.