timotarou

One thing I like about having an iPhone is that everything is kept in sync with my other devices via MobileMe, including bookmarks. I keep my most frequented websites in subfolders on the bookmarks bar (where, by the way, any new articles in RSS feeds show up as a handy little number next to the folder name). You can imagine the irritation I felt when I noticed that only my Safari bookmarks outside of subfolders were syncing. All those frequently used bookmarks? Conspicuously absent.

Scouring Google revealed no one else having a similar problem. Apple troubleshooting mentioned overwriting info on MobileMe with info from your computer if no bookmarks are syncing. Not exactly my problem, but tried it anyway. Availed not.

But where the internet failed, random fiddling came to the rescue! Here's what I did to get my bookmarks bar folders (and all other subfolders) to sync.

In Settings, open Mail, Contacts, Calendars and select your MobileMe account. Turn off Bookmarks syncing, and delete previously synced MobileMe bookmarks from the iPhone. Give it a moment to process the action (I jumped out to Safari to check that everything was deleted), then turn Bookmarks syncing back on and voilà—everything was as it should be.

I would guess this will probably solve other sync issues as well, so give it a shot if you have any troubles.

And for the record, I absolutely hate spelling "synch" without an "h." Synch. Synching. The "ch" makes a hard "c" sound. I guess I should be glad it doesn't have a stupid lowercase i in front of a capital S.

From the Wall Street Journal, it seems the US Federal Court is having some trouble deciding what constitutes piracy.

"Violent attacks on the high seas without lawful authority have always been piracy under the law of nations, in 1819 and today," said the lead prosecutor, Benjamin Hatch, at a pretrial hearing last month.

"So if one ship fires a bow-and-arrow," asked Judge Raymond Jackson, rubbing his brow, "or a slingshot, or a rock, those are all acts of violence, and thus piracy?" The prosecutor nodded.

The public defender, Geremy Kamens, weighed in. "That a slingshot fired upon another ship would expose the defendant to a mandatory life sentence shows the absurd result of this reading," he said. The defense added that under this broad definition, Greenpeace activists could be considered pirates for their anti-whaling antics on the seas.

No, Mr. Kamens, it shows the absurdity of mandatory sentencing. Whether the sprig of mistletoe is thrown at Thor or Baldr, it's still assault, though obviously the result will be different, as should be the consequences.

Don't mess with boats.

Owning an iPhone since its price drop in September 2007, I found myself a 2G transitional fossil in a 3G Galápagos after coming to Japan. Instead of upgrading and jumping right into the keitai culture, though, I decided to save myself. Apple had announced new models each summer so far, so an upgrade shouldn't be that far off. And it wasn't.

"Here's the iPhone 4. You can preorder starting next week, and it comes out the week after that."

Hmm, preorders start on a Tuesday? I have to work then. Oh well, I'll just preorder on the weekend. Everyone who wants an iPhone must already have one by now. Demand won't be that high.

Saturday. "Hi, I'd like to preorder an iPhone 4." "Sorry, we're all sold out." "What?" "We can put you on a waiting list, though. We'll call you as soon as more are available." "Okay."

That was June 19. August 14 they finally call back. "Your phone's ready."

After waiting so long, they must have wanted to prevent any sort of barotrauma. The activation process in the shop took over two hours.

On the bright side, I guess I saved on about two month's worth of phone bills.

The mosquitoes here are going to suck me dry! Goodness gracious does it itch, too.

It's hot! Hot and humid!

On the way to work this morning, I decided to walk aboveground despite the rain because I thought it might cool me off.

Wrong!

It was like standing in a hot shower with no water pressure.

Enough already!

Another girl on the train story. I'm seated, riding the local train home, and standing across the aisle with her back to me is a girl in a pink skirt. She's reasonably tall, moreso for wearing heels.

Her skirt has an English newsprint pattern on it, kind of like articles and headlines have been cut out of a broadsheet and pasted facing everywhich way.

It was about halfway through one article when I caught myself and realized I was staring at her butt.

Forget about iPads and Kindles. I know how I want to read my news from now on!

Earlier this week, there was a girl sitting across from me on the train. When we arrived at Shinjuku, she left the train from the exit on my side. I was about to exit through her side when I noticed a navy blue fabric something-or-other left where where had been seated.

Forgetting something on the train stinks, because even if someone turns it into lost and found, odds are it won't be at the station where you lost it.

Me being the nice guy I am grabbed it and ran out the opposite exit after her. I managed to catch up just before she got onto the escalator and held out the something-or-other. In my panic I was unable to put together a decent sentence in Japanese and said something more or less along the lines of, "Um, this, drop."

She shook her head and waved off me and the something-or-other. I kept walking and put it into my bag, so I wouldn't look any more like a silly foreigner than I already was.

Continuing on my way to work, I wondered what the something-or-other could be. As I already mentioned, it was blue and fabric. It had some pink accents, probably a subtle floral pattern. It was mostly round, but did have a couple flattish parts sticking out the top. Maybe a potpourri sachet or a stuffed bunny, I thought.

After arriving at the office, I stood in my cubicle and pulled the something-or-other out if my bag.

Balled up pair of socks.

Yeah, loosing stuff on the train stinks.

Hm, already June, is it (or almost July, now that you mention it)? I need to take more care that these planned sabbaticals don't overflow into unplanned ones.

What have I been up to since the last time we met? Well, in March I moved to Japan. In April, I started a new job. In May...um...I remember there was a May. And it's still June, so that's proof that June has occurred up to this point.

The past three months have been so busy, it all runs together. I guess you could say I've "settled in" by now, but haven't yet nailed down that rhythm that reveals the time available for leisure between working hours.

What's new with you?

Reporting from the Tokyo desk of CNNGo, W. David Marx informs us that the English translation of MURAKAMI Haruki's second novel, Pinball, 1973, is back in print. This translation, produced for those learning English rather than a natively speaking audience, has never been available outside of Japan. On top of that, the publisher discontinued printing the book in the mid 1990s, and so tracking down a copy of the novel has been not unlike locating a certain three-flipper Spaceship.

I actually have a well-read photocopy of the book from one of my Japanese Literature classes in college. Along with "The Fall of the Roman Empire, the 1881 Indian Uprising, Hitler's Invasion of Poland, and the Realm of Raging Winds," Pinball, 1973 was my introduction to MURAKAMI. I look forward to owning a real copy of the book instead of a reader from Printing and Reprographics. (Of course, if I could just get serious about learning Japanese, translations wouldn't even be a concern!)

We stayed at the Continental Surf, one of Aqua Hotels & Resorts "lite hotels." The amenities certainly warranted its two-star rating, but I have no complaints. Well, maybe one: the shower could have benefitted from some more water pressure. The beach was only three blocks away, though.

After we dropped off our luggage at the room and walked around Waikiki a bit, it was about time for dinner. The bus driver had commented that in his 20 years in Hawaii, he had yet to come across a restaurant that he liked, but there was a place up Kapahulu Avenue called Ono that lots of other tourists had said they liked, so we figured we'd try it out. A twenty minute walk brought us to a hole-in-the-wall joint we nearly missed for its nondescriptness. We were told there might be a wait to get in, but there was not, and we were served shortly after ordering.

The wife and I split a combination plate of kalua pig, laulau, pipikaula, lomi salmon and haupia for $17. The plate also came with a serving of either rice or poi. Plenty of folks back home had warned me about the poi, a bland paste made of taro root, so when the waitress asked if we'd like rice or poi, I confidently chose the rice. When the food came, though, she brought us an additional, small bowl of poi, "Just so you can try it." Though we initially dipped our forks in with significant trepidation, we were soon downing it with no trouble at all. Don't get me wrong; it wasn't ambrosia or anything like that, but it was enjoyable enough.

The combination plate stuffed the both of us to bursting. Tomorrow we would have a 7:15 a.m. breakfast orientation with Pleasant Holidays, so we rolled back to the hotel and went straight to sleep.

Again, to be continued!