One of these days I should just build my own wordpress theme. It’d be good PHP practice. Though for most professional purposes, it’s honestly much more effective to take an existing theme and modify it as necessary. There are so many solid options out there, and the heavy lifting has already been done.

The Crisis of Credit Visualized from Jonathan Jarvis on Vimeo.

One of my first projects for 2009 was to finally get around to putting together an updated portfolio site. Check out yupso.com to see my web and print design work. It’s all primarily JDate and Spark Networks stuff, but that is, after all, what I spent my four years post-college doing professionally.

What is “yupso”? “Yupso” is something my grandpa on my father’s side used to yell a lot – kind of his war cry I guess you could say. While I was in the Philippines, I went to visit one of my aunts, my grandpa’s daughter, who I don’t see that often. An uncle on my mother’s side brought me to her house and he referred to me as “grandson of Yupso.” I liked it, so I thought why not embrace it.

Urban Dictionary says “yupso” is the name of a tagger in Hawaii. I have no connection to that as far as I know. However, considering all the family I have in Hawaii it’s not unlikely that we’re cousins.

This is from a Japanese artist whose website is www.yuzuriha.com. While most of the art is a lot cuter than what I tend to like there are quite a few bits of bike art with randonneur and touring style bicycles. I liked this image because it reminded me of all the lunch breaks I took on my last tour from Kyoto to Tottori.

Anyways, I picked it to illustrate a poem I found off of the iBOB list that I thought appropriate to share as inspiration for the new year.

The Best Road of All
By Charles Hanson Towne, 1949

I like a road that wanders straight; the King’s highway is fair,
And lovely are the sheltered lanes that take you here and there;
But best of all I love a road that leads to God knows where.

The bicycle goods fair featured a number of local clothing and messenger bag designers, as well as a fair amount of imports such as Chrome and Bagaboo bags. Much like bike culture in L.A. or San Francisco, it was very much a high-fashion affair though this was taken to a whole new degree. Knickers and windbreakers sold for a couple of hundred dollars. Even t-shirts and hats were listed at the equivalent of fifty dollars or more. What I found surprising were that many of the things one would commonly find back home, such as Chrome messenger bags, sold for twice the price I was accustomed too. As I talked to more people, I learned that things like IRO or Surly or Soma frames sold for a similar markup. On the flip side, things like NJS track components and frames sold for half what one would pay back home. I had heard that this was the case, but didn’t realize that even in the explosion of fixed gear popularity this was still the casing. It left me wishing I had picked up a stack of merchandise from Orange 20 or some other L.A. store before leaving to sell here in Japan.

Being frightfully unable to afford anything that I saw at the fair, I left in search of food, finding a cafe where I enjoyed a meal of French onion soup served in a bread bowl and a well-deserved nama beru (draft beer). The cafe culture of sitting and people watching over a drink doesn’t seem to be very wide-spread here so it was nice to be in the “big city” where I could partake of some Western indulgences. I was about ready to leave when the founder of the BFF, Brendt Barbur, and his friend, Tora, passed by. I waved them down and they took a seat with me. We chatted over a couple of beers and more delectable cafe fare. Brendt was certainly a proud parent of the BFF and I learned a great deal about the festival’s history and the role it’s tried to play in coalescing and promoting bike culture. I also learned that word of my ride from Kyoto to Tokyo had made the rounds amongst the festival organizers and that for my efforts I was given a BFF weekend pass. Not a bad deal, though I found it amusing that even amongst bike people making a ride like this was seen as quite the accomplishment. For myself, I still envy and admire the folks who pull off month-long or more cross-country tours, or for the randonneurs who are able to do 1200km events like Paris-Brest-Paris.

After the meal, we headed to the opening night party of the festival. The evening featured music, a flatland BMX competition, and a bicycle clothing fashion show. I’ll be the first to admit that bikes have caused me to dress differently in ways that I would have previously thought odd, like my absolute love for knickers (or manpris or shpants as they’ve often been called), but some of the things they brought down the runway were downright humorous (others, however, I would rock in a heartbeat). Still, part of what defines a subculture is the manner in which its adherents dress so it’s unsurprising and understandable that a fashion show for said culture would take that dress to the extreme. Moreover, this is Tokyo after all and, though it may be a gross generalization, if there’s anything I’ve learned about Japanese trends it’s that they don’t do anything halfway. Take these folks for example. Not a part of the fashion show. I guess to be fair, L.A. also has its fair share of oddly attired folks sporty things like American Apparel gold lamé leggings.

After the party, Gogo had to attend a meeting with a group of the Tokyo messengers so I tagged along since I needed to know where I was sleeping that night. The meeting was to plan for next year’s Cycle Messenger World Championship which will be held in Tokyo and occur on the same weekend or the weekend before the BFF. For anyone thinking of hitting up any BFF in 2009, I’d strongly recommend heading to Tokyo. It sounds like it’s going to be a helluva time.

The films started the next day. I slept in a bit, something that was sorely needed (literally). Unfortunately, this meant I missed the first program block which was a shame because it featured a video about the Wolfpack Hustle drag races and, while you can watch the video online, I wanted to be there to represent my L.A. brethren. I did make it in time for the second program block which featured my two favorite pieces from the entire festival. One was Standing Start, an experimental short about the Scottish world champion track cyclist Craig Maclean. The other was Road to Roubaix, a feature-length documentary on the brutal Paris-Roubaix road race.

I reluctantly skipped out on the third program block as I had lost one of my bike gloves and water bottles the night before and needed to find replacements. On a recommendation, I headed to W-Base, a fixed gear and BMX focused shop located neary Shibuya and Harajuku. They didn’t have what I was looking for, but I hunted around and found a few other shops that did. Returning to the festival, I watched the remainder of programs, 4 and 5, featuring a wide range of shorts. Of particular note were the fixed-gear freestyler ones: the exquisitely shot Macaframa, and the local favorite Fumikiri (trailer available here). The riders of Fumimkiri came up afterwards for a little Q&A session, but I have no idea what was said.

Program 6 was just a repeat of things I had already seen, so I decided to pedal around and explore the city a bit. I grabbed a cheap curry dinner near the famous Shibuya crossing then headed to the evening BFF party. The entertainment included a BMX/break dance performance, and a set from the insanely awesome DJ Tucker. Tucker had a flair for the theatrics, juggling guitar, bass, organ, theremin, and drum kit which he would sample and loop to create his own one-man rock fest. For his grand finale, he lit the organ on fire and promptly drop-kicked it. I had my fair share of dancing as well as hanging out more with Brendt and company, before heading out for a late-night/early-morning bowl of noodles at one of the Japanese restaurants where you order by way of a ticket dispensed via vending machine that you then hand directly to the cook. Finally, I returned to my host’s apartment around 5AM.

Sunday’s BFF activity was the block party which was held at the Komazawa Olympic park, one of the sites of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. A trick contest and game of foot-down were held with prizes given out, but then a heavy rainstorm cut the party short and everyone that was left huddled for shelter in a nearby building (well, almost everyone). I wanted to get a skid contest going, but I didn’t have the bike for it and wasn’t comfortable asking to use someone else’s. The building basement had a cafeteria that served beer so people were more or less satisfied hanging around. The rain eventually lightened up and people headed their own ways. Brendt was kind enough to invite me to the BFF staff celebration dinner at an izakaya, so I joined them and enjoyed lots of really excellent food and copious amounts of beer, chatting with a number of the local bicycle-loving gaijin and English-speaking locals before finally heading back to my host’s.

Monday I woke up late, said farewell to my host’s roommate (my host himself had already left for work), then packed up my things. I wanted to check out Kalavinka’s shop, an NJS frame builder, but it was unfortunately closed so I headed to the central Tokyo train station to see about getting an overnight train or bus ticket to Kyoto. My original plan was to ride all the way back to Tottori, but truth be told I was still tired and sore even after a couple days of “rest.” My trip out here in five days carrying a touring load was a hustle that had left me worn out and the prospect of being home with Bronwyn was too appealing. Were I to do it over (and I likely will if I’m still around Japan for the 2009 BFF) I’d rather spend more time making the trip out, not overexerting myself by taking it slower and easier, and I’d rather have a granny gear on my bike. My compact crank is perfect most of the time, but not great for the very hilly terrain of Japan. So instead I thought I’d ride from Kyoto to Tottori by way of Lake Biwa up to the San-in coast along the Sea of Japan. Unfortunately, the overnight bus (far and away the cheapest option) wouldn’t take my bicycle, and the overnight train would actually be more expensive than taking the shinkansen or bullet train. Since I would already be shelling out lots of cash for a shinkansen ticket, I decided to pay the extra twenty or so dollars for the connecting train to Tottori. The bullet train was scheduled to leave in just a couple of hours, leaving me only enough time to ride around the Imperial Palace and enjoy some relaxation time in the park before departing.

Taking the shinkansen was kind of an interesting experience. Yes, it’s very fast, and this fact was made even more clear as I watched the landmarks I would spend all day cycling to pass by in minutes – like seeing my weeklong sojourn reduced to a list of bullet points. I made it to my connecting train in Kyoto with minutes to spare. Carrying my panniers in one hand and my bike in the other in its rinkou bukuro (bike bag) through a crowded station was a clumsy and awkward endeavor that had me sweating more than I had on the entire trip out. But I made it and by 10PM I was back in Tottori, pedaling to my front door just as Bronwyn was returning from a night out with friends. She was surprised to see me, especially since I had told her earlier that I was planning on riding back from Kyoto and lied in an email saying that I was currently on an overnight bus. I was sad that I wasn’t able to finish my trip “properly”, but seeing Bronwyn was proof enough that I had made the right choice in returning early.

I still have more trips in the works. Last week was a special three-day weekend for “Honoring Old People Day”, and Bronwyn rode out to Yonago and back which is 100km each way to spend the weekend with friends. I’d like to ride east along the coast sometime soon, maybe back down to Kyoto, to do the leg of my trip I skipped, and maybe in the summer make my way up to Hokkaido which is supposed to be a cycling paradise. While Tottori is no L.A., I think there’ll be enough adventures around to keep me satisfied – now if only I could find a job so that I can pay for these adventures.

Very cool. But even cooler was this bit from 1982 showing how HBO actually pulled off a lot of the effects from back in the day.

Last weekend, I successfully conquered all ten hills of the “Feel My Legs, I’m a Racer” race. I think I even managed to snag 6th or 7th place overall, with a second place finish on the first hill. Not bad, if I do say so myself. An official write-up hasn’t been posted anywhere, and I’m still scouring the interwebs for photos, but here’s one someone snapped of me. Note the angle of the horizon in the background. That was the first hill, Eldred St., the one this article talks about. While going up the hills was agony (sweet, sweet agony), going down them scared the crap out of me. I had to walk down Eldred St. and a few others, and I think I wore out my brake pads slowly riding my way down the rest. Indeed my fears weren’t unfounded as one rider crashed going down Baxter at 40mph. He hit an unexpected bump at the bottom of the hill, flew off, and slid some 20 feet up the next hill, winding up with a fractured collarbone and a couple of broken ribs, as well as several patches of road rash. But to show you what kind of a manimal this guy was, he still placed fourth overall even though he only did five out of ten of the hills AND he showed up for the after-party at Pure Luck once he was done at the hospital. Insanity.

On Sunday, Bronwyn and I had our engagement shoot with our wedding photographer, Allana of Ars Magna Studio. We spent a few hours wondering around downtown in the Grand Central Market, the Bradbury Building, the Biltmore Hotel, Pershing Square, and a bit of Echo Park. She posted the results yesterday and they’re absolutely fantastic!Check out her blog or the online gallery to see more.

Finally, in completely unrelated news to anything, other than the fact that I’m Filipino, watch this video: