{"id":266,"date":"2006-10-12T13:07:52","date_gmt":"2006-10-12T04:07:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/2006-10-12\/266"},"modified":"2006-10-12T13:07:52","modified_gmt":"2006-10-12T04:07:52","slug":"my-short-trip-to-america","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/2006-10-12\/266","title":{"rendered":"My Short Trip to America"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\n\nI went to America the other day, but I'm already back in Japan.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nActually, it was my shortest trip to America, having been there for less\nthan an hour. In fact, I was back<\/span> in Osaka eating lunch 15 minutes later.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nAs part of the paperwork for selling my house<\/a>, a few<\/span> of\nthe thick stack of associated documents needed to be notarized, so I had<\/span> to\nvisit the US consulate in Osaka (officially, the Consulate General of the\nUnited States of America, Osaka Japan<\/a>).\n\n<\/p>

\n\nI knew that I was getting close to the building when I saw<\/span> the police\nassault bus and a dozen<\/span> bored-looking policemen loitering around.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nAs I arrived at what I thought was the front of the building, there was a\nbig<\/span> sign yelling “NO ENTRY” in Japanese, and something like\n“No Entrance Except For Official Business” in English. I did a<\/span>\ndouble take at the door, which really looked like the front door, and\ndecided that having some random documents notarized was probably official\nenough. An unofficial-looking person was exiting the door, so I went<\/span> in.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nI have moved a bank vault door before. This door was glass, but heaver. I think<\/span> it was concrete lined glass, or something. It looked<\/span> fairly normal\nfrom the outside, but could stop a tank.<\/span> I'm sure it<\/span> was designed just for\nthat purpose.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nInside (now on American soil, God bless<\/span> the King), it turns out that it was\nthe correct entrance. “Welcome to America,” I had<\/span> to think to\nmyself because nothing else about the short experience so far made me feel\nthe slightest bit welcome.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nI'd brought my camera (because I was<\/span> planning on taking advantage of being\nin Osaka to stop by a big<\/span>\ncamera shop<\/a> before heading back to Kyoto), so I had<\/span> to surrender that\nand my cell phone. I didn't<\/span> have any liquids with me, so didn't have to\nsurrender those.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nA somewhat elderly Japanese policeman with the a most<\/span> pleasant way about\nhim took my stuff and processed me through the metal detector, and a light<\/span>\nbody search with a wand<\/span> like at an airport. I then exchanged<\/span> an ID for a\nvisitor<\/span> pass, and was allowed through another 15 ton door to the elevators.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nOther than a pictures of The President, VP, and Sec. State on the wall,\nyou'd never know that this was a US<\/span> Government office. No marines. No\nEnglish. Well, the 5\" thick glass doors might be one clue.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nThe 4th floor is th American Citizen Services floor. The elevator<\/span> opens up\nto a waiting<\/span> room large enough for about three small card tables and two\nbenches. More pictures on the wall.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nI paid the $70 it costs to have three items notarized, and waited for my\nturn for about 20 minutes.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nOne will find bureaucracy, pettiness, corruption, and other bad things in\nany government. On my trip<\/span> to the consulate, I ran into<\/span> pettiness in the\nform of one Sara Revell, who is a\/the notary there.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nLaws differ from state to state, but except for in Louisiana, a notary<\/span> is a\ntrivial<\/span> job. It doesn't require much in the way of intelligence, and it's\nabout as difficult and expensive to get a notary<\/span> licence as it is to get a\ndriver's<\/span> licence. A notary<\/span> witnessing a signature<\/span> merely attests to the\nfact that the person singing a document<\/span> is the person they claim to be. In performing<\/span> this function, the content of the document is not relevant. They\ndon't have to know nor care what the document says.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nOne of my documents made a passing reference to a separate<\/span> document I\nhadn't<\/span> brought. I didn't<\/span> bring it because it wasn't needed here, but she\nwanted to see it. This was ridiculous; not only did she not need to see it,\nbut she had no right even asking<\/i> — it's not her friggin'\nbusiness! Her business<\/span> here was to ascertain to her satisfaction that my\nname was what I claimed<\/span> it to be (which my passport apparently did), and\nthat the signature on the document was mine. Oh, and to accept my money\n— that's her business too.\n\n<\/p>

\n\nSo, here was the situation:<\/p>\n\n

    \n
  1. She already had my $70.<\/li>\n
  2. She knew that I needed<\/span> the service, or else I wouldn't<\/span> be there.<\/li>\n
  3. There was no one hundreds of miles, except her, who could do what I needed.<\/span><\/li>\n
  4. She was behind a 3-inch-thick glass window.<\/li>\n
  5. It was almost lunch time.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n

    She had 100% of the power and we both knew it. Sara Revell treated me\nwith all the compassion that one expects from low-level civil-servant twits\nin positions of power that exceed their intelligence. It just makes<\/span> my\nblood boil — I can<\/span> not being to tell you what I felt<\/span> about this\nperson (because my parents read my blog and I don't<\/span> want them to know what\nfilthy, angry words I know<\/span>).<\/p>\n\n

    After returning to Japan in a decidedly foul mood, I had lunch<\/span> at a\nrestaurant<\/span> in Umeda that was delicious<\/i>. And the camera<\/span> store was\nfun, too, so it wasn't an entirely wasted day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    I went to America the other day, but I'm already back in Japan. <\/p>

    Actually, it was my shortest trip to America, having been there for less than an hour. In fact, I was back in Osaka eating lunch 15 minutes later. <\/p>

    As part of the paperwork for selling my house, a few of the thick stack of associated documents needed to be notarized, so I had to visit the US consulate in Osaka (officially, the Consulate General of the United States of America, Osaka Japan). <\/p>

    I knew that I was getting close to the building when [...]","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,2],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/266"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=266"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/266\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=266"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=266"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/regex.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=266"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}