3-2-1 contact

After nearly a year of funny looks from them, I finally made contact with the gang of kids that haunts my apartment complex. They are a nice healthy batch of children that seem to range in age from 5 to 9. I assume that they play well with each other, as I hardly ever hear crying or angry shouting.

When I came home from work this afternoon, the gang (only 4 members today) was filing out of my neighbor�s doorway. I smiled, and the two most vocal members said, �hello.� I said, �hello.� They said, �hello.� Then I said, �hello.� Then they said, �hello.� Then I threw in a �konnichiwa.�

That�s what blew the door wide open.

Despite my language handicap I learned that Mayu�s older sister couldn�t join us because she is very sick, Nobutaka will be a big brother soon because his mother is pregnant, Reo�s father is part Italian, and that Ryoto�although the smallest�is definitely the leader of the group.

The kids in turn learned what their names look like in roman lettering, that I am an American with relatively big hands, that I live alone, and that the reason that they cannot come into my apartment no matter how much they beg is because I think it�s messy.

I hope that our relationship continues to grow and that they�ll someday let me play tag with them, show them how to paint or draw, and finally make use of this jump rope that my predecessor so graciously left me free-of-charge.

he's got a gun!

I just heard on the news a few minutes ago, that President Bush has in his possession the pistol that Saddam Hussein had on his person when he was aquired by the US military.

I don't think it's unreasonable of me to easily visualize Mr. Bush and Mr. Cheney galloping around the White House playing an 'adult' version of Cowboys and Indians.