Recently read an article in the New Yorker about Dick Cavett's new book 'Talk Show' and the talk show wars in the US, and one line in the article got me thinking:
...“Talk Show” (Times Books; $25), a collection of the blogs he writes for the Times. A blog is a means of sharing your pet peeves and off-the-cuff theories of everything with the entire planet. To this point in the history of civilization, that is not what a book is. In a book, normally, one’s eye is on a somewhat farther horizon...
So this blog business is normally about topical things. Right? How can I blog this weekend and not somehow deal with the earthquake/tsunami in Japan? It seems like it's on every channel. Is there really anything new I can say about it.
As I sat down to write this, I'd already considered the many Japanese teas I like. Sometimes I hear people talking about green tea, and some Japanese greens are disparaged for tasting grassy. I understand that, but I like grassy. Although I usually write about black tea on this blog, I definitely enjoy green and Oolong tea.
For some reason I turned to a very simple Japan Sencha Fuji, which I've written about at length in the past.
Here's one a little less than a year ago: analog tea tasting.
And then here's one where I started writing about Japan Sencha Fuji and then somehow found myself riffing on the Ten Virtues of Tea.
My not-so-original thoughts as I sip this delicious Japanese tea and think about what unbelievable circumstances the people made homeless in Japan? Well, it's really hard to look at the footage. My experience with the Japanese people has been fantastic. It's one of the nicest places I've ever been.
Here I am watching an old man on television who's lost his home, and he's crying in front of the camera. I know many cultures are said to be loathe to show their emotions, but this was the most raw thing I'd ever seen displayed by an older Japanese person. I was shocked.
Am I sharing my 'pet peeves and off-the-cuff theories of everything with the entire planet' here? There have been so many examples of how small the world is over the last few days. A friend whose son was snowboarding in Japan flew out of Tokyo's Narita airport just hours before all hell broke loose. A Tokyo tea lover I'm acquainted with on twitter was shaken, but she was assuring everyone who asked that she was unhurt.
As I fall asleep in my very safe home in my very safe city, I hope the people devastated by this event are waking up in a safe, dry place. I want to believe that even if these people are sleeping in community centres or makeshift camps, that someone is providing them with decent tea. It might be one of the few things to bring some sort of comfort in this incomparable time. At least I'd like to hope so.