Party

Today was the parents new years day party. Despite daily sacrifices to Taka-Okami, the god of rain and consumer electronics (Ok I made that part up), it rained during the party, so things were a little crowded. We were hoping to be able to use the gardens and the deck, but Kenji had obviously angered the gods somehow. Kenji was prepared the traditional Japanese New Years soup called ozoni,

and I was in charge of grilling chicken teriyaki skewers (in the rain again). I got fed up with getting my hands singed and the bamboo skewers turning into charcoal halfway through, but finished it without too much collateral carbonization. Even more exciting than the soup was the music: mom had found Shamisen players from the Santa Cruz province of Honshu.



They were very nice, and patiently sat through some very strange behavior from my parents friends. As they were setting up, one of them got into a long conversation with them about his harmonica, and how it was a shame he had not brought it. They looked crestfallen at not being able to do a little harmonica shamisen jamming. Later on another old family friend cornered them and began grilling them about the name of a stringed intrument she had bought in Turkey, which she was sure was a "Baclava". Although it is possible that she was not talking about the sweet middle eastern pastry and there is indeed a stringed instrument from the middle east called a "Baclava", I have a feeling that she was talking about a Bouzouki. They both looked very confused but kept politely suggesting the names of instruments that began with the letter "B". Their suggestions were only for Japanese "B" instruments though. Some of Chloe and my friends also showed up, and I finally got to meet my friend Steve's son, who was born within a few weeks of Alex's surprise early arrival.

It was great to see everyone, but there were so many people that I barely had any time to talk to anyone in particular. I did manage to sneak away for ten minutes for a ride in Steve's 335i: an excellent and very fast ride. The acceleration on that thing is pretty savage. If only gas were less than six dollars a gallon and 335s didn't require the selling of organs here.



I did, however get to drink way too much heavily hopped beer (hard to find in France), whiskey and Chartreuse. A winning combination!