There are three kinds of people in this world.

Those who can count, and those who can’t.

In line for Pirates of the Caribbean.

It happened again. I’ll give you three guesses.

Tokyo this weekend was really cool. And by cool I mean hotter than four hundred hells. I had an image in my head of what the “classy” picnic would be like at the American embassy… it was instead a roasting hot sweatfest which had The Italian, Aa-chan, and myself drunkish at 2pm. I was glad I at least had not worn pants.

Shade was hard to come by, but we found a spot by this embassy garden area to generally be American.

We wandered into a shrine just outside the embassy gates with ten-yen omikuji (fortunes). Ours were pretty good.

I felt classy on the way there, though, because I was sitting pretty in my shinkansen seat, watching the morning world go by at bullet-like speeds, looking country-girl chic in my fluffy black dress and little straw hat (like all the Osaka girls wear). Once we got outside it was more like Sparta (see: madness), but that’s just August in.. anywhere.

But it was good to see The Italian (not a JET) and Aa-chan (a retired JET), my “Vanderbuddies,” as I playfully called them, and just sort of feel reconnected. I was worried that I would go all the way to Tokyo and only have a marginally okay time; that wouldn’t be anyone’s fault, really… I’ve been a bit out of it and distracted and on the whole a little emotionally unhinged lately. I assumed that no matter what I did this weekend, I wouldn’t enjoy it overmuch, but that I ought to do something. I had scheduled myself for Tokyo and Disneyland. Might as well.

But actually, it was rather fun. I got to see a bit more of Tokyo (Akihabara, for one), and a bit more of my friends.

We visited the SquareEnix store. Not in Akihabara. This is Sephiroth. IN THE FLOORING. We walked over him once without seeing him because we were staring at the merch along the walls instead.

It's a tonberry. With a lantern. And a knife. Right in the front entrance of the SquareEnix store. (these photos mostly for the enjoyment of my nerdy friends)

We never made it to karaoke, and our legs and feet were dead sore by the end of Saturday, but by the time Aa-chan and I were running around Disneyland like the overgrown children that we are, I was having so much fun that I had thoroughly forgot I was supposed to be miserable.

Lots of parades. This one we ran across in the afternoon. I took lots of photos, but I do love Toy Story's fated aliens.

Another parade, this one all about lights. And obviously a bit later.

Disney was hot, and it was crowded, and we didn’t get there very early, and the lines were long. But there was almost always a breeze, and lots of the waiting areas (for newer stuff at least?) are indoors, decorated to theme, and air-conditioned. The spinning teacups were way more fun than they had any right to be, and always had a wait of about seven minutes.

OMG teacups cause madness. We only rode them like three times that day. It was like a drug.

sea of humanity....

Japan loves Disney, and after visiting Tokyo Disneyland, I suspect that this park is perhaps one of that titan’s most successful endeavors. I looked out over a vast sea of people, and all of them seemed pretty happy. By the end of the evening, little kids were passed out on top of their parents and in their strollers all over the place. The park closed at 10, but my bus was supposed to leave only a few minutes after that, so we figure it would be best to get to the bus area sooner rather than later.

Okay. I thought my bus was supposed to leave at ten. It turns out 20:10? Is not that. There are three kinds of people in this world…

I happen to count in base ten, and I happen to have recently been to Universal Studios Japan, where there was a bus back to my town’s interstate stop; that bus left ten minutes after park closure. In my defense, it’s an easy mistake to make, although a very stupid one. In my defense… I was pretty distracted when I was booking the bus…?

So the lesson is, 20:00 = 8pm, every time, and that is something I will not forget again.

Unfortunately, that left me still in Tokyo, with no more overnight buses heading for Himeji that evening. And “work” in the morning, and out the money for the bus ticket, as well as the shinkansen ticket I would have to buy the next morning. Luckily, The Italian and Aa-chan were still around, so we all went back to the apartment of The Italian to crash. After a four hour fitful spell of sleep, I rolled out of his apartment at 5am to get back as quick as I could. I arrived in Himeji at 10, basically devoid of cash, and continued my mad dash, with a brief ten minute stop at home, to work, where no one said anything about my being four hours late, except to ask if I’d “had some trouble.” I chose not to call in and explain my lateness because I figured they’d make me take vacation time for that, and I did not want that. (I considered doing it and spending another day in Tokyo, but I had an engagement Monday night that I needed to be back home for by around 7pm)

The funny thing is, after days of having nothing really to do at work and wishing only to leave, wondering why we are expected to come in at all during the summer, the act of crossing half a country to get there makes you a lot more grateful to be there. I was actually rather productive in the few hours I was there before my VP suggested I go ahead and go home.

So I guess Tokyo was as it could be expected to be. Lots of fun. Very expensive. A bit of a dash there at the end. C’est la vie!

Just leave it up to The Claw.

Akashi Absolved

Akashi is a city almost-to-Kobe if you are coming from the west along the coast of Japan. It boasts a beautiful bridge to Awaji Island, some castle ruins, and its own style of takoyaki.

It is also the home of the driver's license center for Hyogo prefecture. So for some of us, it never mattered what Akashi had to offer. We were going to hate it anyway.

You can't associate a place with a long, painful drive, terrible wastes of time and vacation days, personal failure, and utterly ridiculous rules... without a little resentment.

I went back again on Thursday, to do battle with the beast.

Every time I had to go to Akashi (and take the requisite entire day off work, because it just takes that long), I labeled it on my calendar. My first attempt at the driving test was called "AKASHI - the practical" ... the second attempt was called "the finale" (aren't we hopeful!)... and the third attempt, "the charm" (as in, ", third time is").

I packed lighter for this go than ever before, since I would be carrying it all the whole way, rather than just putting it in the car. I had previously overpacked in a sort of heinous way, taking my heavy computer and all manner of things to do to the center, therefore condemning myself to carry them around on my back through the walk-through part of the course. I was much more judicious. Wallet, yes. Book, yes (but just one paperback). Notebooks, no, dictionary, no, camera, hell no, who wants memories of Akashi?

After managing to choose the wrong rain-fighting option (I really thought the poncho would work on a bike), and managing forget my paperwork (requiring another bike trip back to the apartment after getting off the bus at the post office, to which it traveled all of 50 meters), the morning was off to a splendid start. I roped the Other Georgian into driving me to the train station and at least managed to have nice conversations all the way there while my pants dried in the car.

The rest of the trip was more or less successful, only taking the wrong bus from Akashi station once. I made it to the testing center in the nick of time (according to the clock; the test starts at 12:55.. you can walk the course from 11:45 or so until then. But for some reason you have to be there between 10 and 10:30) and took my place on the seats in front of the endless test video, to read of course. I did watch some of the video and by now was able to decipher some of the information contained therein. They list some of the automatic fails for the test, such as "driving in the wrong lane," "running a stop sign," "collision or near collision with other vehicles on the course," and generally "being all over the road." They might have said something about "not looking at the correct mirrors in the correct order," too. "Not wearing proper shoes" was another part of the video (Jermaine-hostile shoes only!).. I walked the course twice at 11:45, then went in to treat myself to some mediocre (I'm generous) DMV-cafeteria soba noodles.

At test time, I was last in my section of line. This gave me the benefit of not having anyone ride along as passenger for my trial (you can sit in the back and observe the test of the person ahead of you in line). But also meant I had to wait a bit longer before my turn. Although I knew that this time I really had the test in the bag (after spending an hour with my good ol' driving instructor chanting "1, 2, 3, 4" as I checked each of the looking spots in the correct order for each type of turn again and again), I still found myself experiencing that very special brand of anxiety that brings its friend nausea along to hang out. I briefly considered throwing up in the grate drain to one side of the course 'road,' but decided against it.

The first girl received her talking-to inside the car while still in the driver's seat. That means fail. The guy ahead of me drove with such caution and ginger care, but I was worried for him because for all his fearful slowness, he didn't always check the bike spot right before turning, and goodness knows that'll disqualify the shit out of you! In the end, he was "too slow." Yes really. Fail. My turn.

I was passing the hell out of the test, and I knew it; I wasn't even rattled when I saw the lady making notes on the clipboard, even though writing = mistakes, generally. I could afford a few points. Things got dicey in the crank turn, as I reversed three times and was convinced right at the end that I was caught between the curb and a fourth reverse (4 times will disqualify you... one is fine, but two or three just loses you points)... although I made it out of there, I was scared that my point loss in the crank would cripple me right into a failing score. That's basically the end of the test, though, and it's a good thing, because my confidence was slipping.

I pulled carefully up to the finish curb and resignedly pulled the break, put it in park, turned off the car. "Lemmon-san," she began, and I turned my plaintive eyes on her, ready to hear my new set of "advice" about this test.

"Could you get out and come around to this side?" she asked. I blinked. That totally means pass (so long as you exit the car properly-- to see that last bit is why they do it). I exited the car properly and came around so she could tell me I'd passed. Happily returned inside to wait with the only other dude who'd passed that day (he turned out to be a friend of a friend, and resident of Himeji, so how about that?). They brought us upstairs at 2:30 and gave us a piece of paper that said we'd be getting our licenses at about 4:20, after the processing began at 2:40. I shrugged because at least the waiting was worth something now.

The man told us to be there at 3:30 and that we had free time til then. The Other Guy Who Passed pointed out that this suggested they were running almost an hour behind schedule. They had mentioned that they had a "lot of people" that day.. meaning, I guess, first-time drivers who had passed. We didn't have anywhere else to go, so the guy and I sat there for a bit, until another officer-looking man appeared and had us fill out a form. A lecture began to take place in the area right in front of us, but we were ushered into the photo booths along with about ten people who did NOT look like fresh drivers. We then waited another few minutes, paid our fee, and were handed our licenses by 3pm. I guess they rushed us to the front of the process since they were already running behind and would rather deal with us separately than along with the batch of newbies.

Whatever the reason, we were actually released an hour and a half earlier than we normally would have been. I was so happy that by the time we had bussed back to the train station, I felt like making something of this "vacation" day I'd had to take for this, so I parted with my new Himeji test-passin' friend and followed the signs that said "Akashi Castle Ruins."

Because, you know, castle ruins? Are kind of my thing.

Akashi has a gorgeous park. I was sort of sad I had tossed the camera. It had forest paths and ruins and athletic fields and ponds, and lots of kids and old people and dogs, and even one making-out couple (a rarity here). I felt like I kind of came back to myself there, because it was like (and not like) Centennial park in Nashville, and it was also just my kind of thing. At some point, upon hearing the ke-chi-ke-cha of trains at the nearby station, I actually began to sing out loud ("Train in the Distance"). I'd been really anxious and sad since returning to Japan, but being able to get out and explore just a little bit made me remember better why I wanted to come here in the first place, and why I put myself through the silly mess of dealing with Akashi too.

In the stone walls and bike trails and wooden benches, from the top of the castle-not-anymore-a-castle, with a view of the ultramodern looking Awaji bridge, treetops, the train station, ships on the water, and mountains beyond, I found it in my heart to forgive Akashi for our past encounters.

Obon: Reconnection

Obon is the Japanese festival of the dead. People invite their ancestors to come to their homes, back from the spirit world on the 13th, then send them off again on the 15th. The time is characterized by festivals and celebrations, and families typically flood out of the cities and back into the countryside, everyone heading for their ancestral homes. It is sort of like Easter or Thanksgiving in the way that people all go stay with family.

Which, understandably, is a bit of a strange time for us JETs. I mean, the festivals are fun, and this year I even got semi-invited to a family's BBQ dinner on Friday evening. There are fireworks and stall-food and children running around in yukata and jinbei and other outfits. The people watching to be had at the local park's celebration was pretty awesome. We did a little bon-odori (the special Obon dance) and watching a little fireworks.

But it's strange because of the timing, mostly. The JET year starts at the end of July or beginning of August, so all newcomers are just getting their feet on the ground. Often, Obon is the first Japanese festival they'll see. But Obon's all about going home and connecting with your roots... things which we all just left behind (if temporarily) in order to be here.

I thought it would be easier to come back to Japan than it was to come to Japan, and in some ways it was (my stuff was here already, and more or less set up.. I already know the people at my job, etc. etc.).. and in some ways it was harder. I think expecting it to be easy has contributed a bit to making it harder. I also have less pressing stuff to do at work (reading over everything I got from predecessor and orientation), so I have been really listless all week, affected by jet-lag (not a problem by the time I got to work upon first arrival), and also that emotional component of jet-lag that is perhaps peculiar to the notion of leaving a place that seems to contain every person by whom you feel loved and going far, far away.

And that is harder the second time, because you've been far, far away for a year already, and the first time you left, you'd been living there and seeing all those people for so long you might even have had time to get sick of some of them..! But the second time you only ever had like a few hours with anyone, or so it seemed.

And then you're driving south on 29, dismissed at 11am from work, glad you don't have to go north because the traffic is ridiculous, and every car is full of people and stuff, maybe grumbling about the traffic, dreading grandpa's endless stories, or grandma's stupid little dog, wondering if the kids will ever stop hitting each other back there, and good grief why didn't you go before we left? Instead, off you go, flying and not crawling, but solo.

Iwa Jinja

From the side entrance..

Yesterday, I walked to Iwa Jinja (伊和神社）. I was on my way down the driveway toward the grocery store where it is my custom to buy lunch every day, when the notion took me and I started on down that way. It isn’t really all that far away from work. I said polite hellos to the people I passed on my way. One dude smiled and said, “It’s hot, isn’t it!” to which I replied, “It’s hot.” But I thought, it’s not all that hot.

By the time I reached the shrine and visited the important rock and the koi pond and threw my coins and clattered the bell, I was pretty hungry. I crossed the street to the road-station (michinoeki) where there’s a little restaurant. But there was a wait list, and I felt kind of awkward eating alone if someone was going to be waiting for my table. It’s one thing to sit down in a little half-empty cafe and quietly feed yourself, but in a hopping lunch crowd and in a place where every table looks like it’s for four people or more… ehh. I grabbed a bottle of tea out of a vending machine and decided to walk back up to my grocery store and just eat at work like always.

On the walk back, I discovered that it really is all that far from work. When a different dude was like “It’s hot, isn’t it!” I wished I knew how to say yes sir, fucking hot! in Japanese.

I like Iwa Jinja. It’s a pretty shrine, and a large one. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the main shrine of Ichinomiya and perhaps the reason for the name of the town. When you cross the town border, the sign uses the shrine as its icon. So it’s an important shrine in this area, but I also like it on some personal levels.

Shrines appeal to me based on the idea of a created sacred space. You might recall (or I might have kept that crap to myself) the way I tend to seek out a “favorite tree” or rock or just.. little place to go and collect myself when I’m wanting a reflective moment or having a total existential crisis. I have favorite trees in Rome, Italy (in Villa Pamphili), in Lawrence and Kansas City. Wherever I live, I hunt down a personal natural space. Shrines are just that, except better signed, and with more amenities. Oh, and pretty old, usually.

At a shrine, the idea is you throw your coin into the box, ring the bell, pray for whatever it is you are seeking, and go on. There’s more, of course. You can usually buy omikuji, the little slips of paper with your fortune written on them, and you can hang up wooden petitions to the gods for the stuff you are seeking. I personally have never done much, although I did get a fortune-slip in Kyoto once (at Fushimi Inari shrine) and I still have it, since it was the double-plus-good fortune.

I once biked to Iwa from my house (yeah, that took a while..) on a sort of pilgrimage. Certain shrines in my area have come to mean different things to me. There’s a shrine up high in a mountainside that overlooks this river I like.. I go there to seek “perspective.” At Iwa, I seek peace. Peace of mind, I guess. Which is maybe kind of a Buddhist thing to go after (shrine = Shinto, temples are for Buddhists), but hey.

The other thing that I learned more recently about Iwa has to do with the kanji. Erik pointed out that the first of them, the “i” (伊) is given the meaning “Italy” in the kanji study method I am using. That sort of seemed cool, especially since I assumed the second, “wa” (和) to mean “Japan.” (like in washoku, or Japanese-food) So this massive shrine, the principal one in the area, Iwa shrine, is Italy-Japan shrine?

I don’t assume that the shrine has anything to do with Italy in any actuality. It’s just a name, just a vague word connection. But I do like it.

The important rock area, which until this pilgrimage day was unknown to me!

The important rocks.

Sky over Iwa.

Ready or Not

As I get ready to leave Japan tomorrow (to visit the US), I feel very secure in my decision to stay a second year. I’ve watched the rice fields grow this time from little sprigs to nearly the height I remember from when I first got here. Everything that seemed so mysterious and new now has a backstory, a lead-up for the follow-through.. but it’s all still pretty mysterious again. I’ve decided that of Japan’s five seasons, I dislike the cold ache of winter and the lethargy of the rainy season, but the other three are actually not so bad, even the disgusting heat of August and summer. The anniversary of my arrival will come and go while I am in the US enjoying those things that I miss while I am here, but I am not yet ready to leave.

But I very rarely am. For the first time in a long time, it’s summer and I am not packing to move. Leaving any place is hard for me, and I almost always make it to the end of any thing in a scattered frenzy of last-minute packing and cleaning and barely making that insert-mode-of-transportation-here on time. I used to imagine that one day, when I am more grown-up, I will be fully ready well in advance and sit stoic for the change to descend on me. But I think that this, like the idea of getting ‘ahead’ on my ‘work’ is an illusory pipe dream, a nice hope, but never realistic. So I’m just going to have to do the best I can whenever I come to any big change or ending to minimize messiness without sacrificing meaning.

I get bogged down in the details. Because the details are what really mean stuff to me.

And even though I’m not having to pack all my earthly possessions and move (back) to a whole new continent, this week is still hard (in its own wholesome way). Stuff is still changing.

There is the more immediate/intense change that goes like, once I get back in a couple short weeks, half of my town’s JETs will be new people, and of the leavers, Heke and Big Brother will be long gone, with The Cat right about to follow on their heels.

And even if it were the same party-all-the-time group I’ve come to love, of Shiso ladies (and Brother), we’re also affected by the slower change of the turning of the year. Not one of us is the same person she (or he) was when I landed in Tokyo. Why should we want to be? Loss is both natural and inevitable. It’s just the piratical side of change, to which the upswing is new opportunity, and new people, places, and ideas to explore.

Even as I type this, cranes are lifting construction materials out of trucks and into piles on our outdoor field. I knew they were going to start work on our school building “soon,” but I had no idea it was going to literally be today. No wonder they made us move our shoes and start using a different entrance! I’m sure that by the time I get back, my workplace will even look different. C’est la vie.

When I return I’ll have plenty of time to clean out my desk and plan for the coming year (since I won’t need to spend that time reading all the materials I got from orientation/my predecessor), visit some club activities (since I won’t be paranoid/confused about where I am or am not allowed to go around here) and maybe even show some kids how much I suck at their respective sports, read novels, and maybe ..maybe even write more! Yay for summer vacation, right?

Ready or not.. it starts now.

Once Upon A Time, I kept a blog…

Well! The first half of July was kind of a slog. Once you’re tired of something, more of it just makes you kind of.. even slower, or less motivated, or at least it does me! Now that the rain has rolled back and summer is here (as of this Friday, basically), it’s hot as blazes but that’s okay. I may have to start watering my tomatoes in the swelter, but at least I don’t have to worry about running out of clothes before I get a chance to do laundry..! (Laundry takes a sunny day, usually.. because even if you dry your clothes inside with a fan, they smell funny if they take too long in the warm humidity..)

I’ve been spending the last few days half on cleaning and half on getting out. It’s a three day weekend, but I’m staying in Shiso today just to keep my feet on the ground. I’m still pretty in denial about a lot of things, like how quickly I am leaving for America (don’t worry, I’m definitely looking forward to it, with an almost visceral realism I picture myself there).. only in practical ways am I in denial about that, things like packing and preparing what I will bring with me. I panicked yesterday and bought some souvenirs, but not very many. I guess it’s just summer.. I can worry about presents later, right?

I’m also in denial about the Great Changeover, or the Loss of Many JETs and Arrival of New Ones. A long time ago, I was looking forward to it, because I was excited about the possibility of what the new folks might be like. From there, of course, it was a totally open horizon. They could be ANYONE and so the potential for awesomeness was high. Now I know their names and placements. That isn’t anything really.. they are still completely blank on the radar, but somehow knowing that they are real people puts limits on the future? I don’t know how to explain that.

And I’ve also become more acutely aware, of course, of what we’ll lose here in Shiso. Simply put, I don’t wanna.

July!

Well it’s July. I know that doesn’t mean the rain will stop, necessarily (it wasn’t, you know, in any way dry previous to June anyway); in fact, it probably just means it will get hotter and more uncomfortable. I was waiting to see giant fans appear in classrooms, twin counterparts to the big fiery heaters of winter.

They aren’t coming. And in a way that makes sense. I imagined the awesome whirlwind of flying paper that every room would become if we put fans all over the place. So instead imagine for me the kind of sweltering sauna that will exist if we don’t; I don’t have to imagine it, because I will be experiencing it myself.

June was kind of a rough month, which is unfortunate because I like the way it sounds. Early summer, so full of promise. But the promises kept were bugs, rain, humidity, mold, and summer colds (TWO in one month—coming in pairs I suppose, like the dreaded mukade)… two failed driving tests, too. My first real bout of full-on cultural fatigue!

And let me tell you. I like Japan. I’m glad I’m here. But this week? I HATE JAPAN AND WANT IT TO LEAVE ME THE EF ALONE! It’s too hot. It’s too humid. It lacks proper air conditioning. It hates me because I’m white. Its policies make no damn sense. Its children see no need to learn English and so scoff at my endeavors.

It is weird to me to see the summer arrive in full force like this. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year almost, since I arrived. It’s flown by, really, and yet I know I’m a totally different person (yadda yadda…) both in work and just life in general. I think that’s what made my snap of culture shock so bad. About now, lots of new JETs-to-be are trying to pack and daydreaming about the mysterious far eastern country they are about to invade. And lots of ex-JETs-to-be (that is, the leavers) are packing their stuff, puzzling over shipping rates, and thinking about the stuff they will miss when they have to go.

And I, for eleven months, have enjoyed this place, and mentally defended it against those who would naysay its ways, and found reasonableness in its ridiculous. I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the back. I defended you, Japan. And you betrayed me. I bore the sick cold of your winter, and you repay me with a hundred percent humidity and dishes STILL WET in the drying rack after I get home at the end of the day. I dotted every i and crossed every t (figuratively, of course) and took lessons and studied hard for your damn driving test and the “advice” at the end of the second failed attempt was “Winker, Eye, Hand – you are/were (the beauty of Japanese being that you can just leave out the verb) very skilled at this.” (So, why did I fail?) –--“Winker first, then eye, then hand.”

WNFjet said after his first failed test that it was just because they wanted him to fail, they found a reason to fail him. I shook my head, certain that there must have been a reason, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. Because I knew I screwed up mine, so I mean, own it when you make a mistake and don’t act like people are out to get you. But maybe they ARE. (I would be, if I were testing WNF; I would be like, ‘you failed because your smarminess level was too high’) I’m totally up for saying “my bad” and “doing my best next time” when I have messed up; this time was really hard because I did a damn good job and still failed. Upsetting.

Pronounced once again unworthy to drive, I hung my head in anger and shame, got into my car, and drove the two hours home. Please tell me the irony hurts you too.

What hurts more is looking at my carefully weighed and considered vacation days and knowing I have to spend another one on this horrible endeavor. I’m hoping I can get out of this.. my VP laughed at me at first when I told him I’d failed, and I gave my It’s Not Funny face. I don’t think I’ve ever pulled that face in this entire good-humored year. He assured me that it’s okay to take vacation days during August since it is summer vacation. I vehemently expressed my desire not to. I asked about last year’s random Obon festival days off. Whether we’d get such days this year, and when, and if I could have him help me reschedule my test (since the instructions for doing so are all in Japanese) for such days off. He told me not to think about it so seriously. “The summer vacation is.. you know. Summer vacation.” This cryptic statement gives me hope.

So I’m scheduled for my THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM test after I get back from MY summer vacation (literally, “getting out of someplace” – I’ll be going to the US. Also, after the 1st of August I cannot legally drive and will be taking buses/trains to the test)… and I’m rather looking forward to the break. I also envy the kids their POOL class period when they have it. Damn.

Also, June is maybe the only unfortunate month in this country without a national holiday. Bring on July! Except the part where half my town’s JETs leave and get replaced with who knows what kind of riffraff. Leave off that part.

Addendum: while I was finishing up writing this, the principal of Big Elementary shut the windows and turned on the AC. I guess it becomes acceptable in July to do that. Someone tell the bus driver from this morning. JULY = HOT. YOU CAN USE AC. IT’S OKAY.

Second addendum: when I got home, the umbrella I bought this morning and then left leaning against a pole at the bus stop was still there, just chillin by the pole. I’m sure if it had been raining, someone would have stolen it. But I guess since it wasn’t, they didn’t. And this country ain’t so bad. Maybe.