Part of me expected to see a group of Buddhist monks performing a ritual or chanting ceremoniously, and perhaps they did do those things on other days, but on that day the temple grounds were quite serene against the hazy grey of the mid-June sky.  Ever since we passed through the entrance to the famous Kinkaku-ji, or the Golden Pavilion, on the northwest edge of Kyoto, the atmosphere around us seemed to settle as we passed into the corridor of tall, green trees and the hum of city traffic faded behind us.  It was like crossing some boundary that separated the modern world from feudal Japan, and it was a very humbling experience.

Stumbling down the smooth gravel pathway, joking and laughing in English, we must have looked quite out of place, like a bunch of carrots in a box of green beans.  Our group was made up of an assortment of students ranging from seniors in high school to several fresh-faced college graduates.  I was the geek of the group and the expert on all things Japan that I had learned from watching so much Anime – at least, that gave me the authority to point out places that had inspired certain scenes in this or that series and, not surprisingly, it gave the tall, blond Southern California guys more of a reason to completely ignore me – it’s high school all over again I thought to myself.  But I wasn’t about to let that little detail ruin my experience here.  This was my first time in Japan and I was determined to see every little pebble and examine them to the finest detail.

Our group approached the entrance to the gardens and waiting for the OK to proceed through the gates.  The smaller buildings at the front of the complex where we entered were places of meditation and training of the mind and body, but you couldn’t tell that from the outside as we carry on like a group of hungry chickens.  At this point I had splintered from the group and stepped back to take a look around.  Over the main building into which our guide had disappeared just moments before I noticed, a ways off in the background, a glint of gold.  It’s actually the statue of the phoenix on top of the shine, or so I was told – it really got my mind beating with chemical ecstasy just thinking about the sights just around the corner.

Finally we received the go ahead from the group leader and we proceeded through the gates.  We shuffled through the groups of other tourists, but we appeared to be the only non-Asian group visiting the shrine on that day.  I began to feel a little apprehension about how I would appreciate the ideas behind the temple that we were visiting.  The whole concept behind Zen Buddhism is a state of enlightened wisdom, understanding, and direct realization that can be accomplished through meditation.  But those doubts that were filling my mind floated away when we cleared the crowd and beheld the sight of the main temple.  The two-story pavilion was partially covered in gold that, even in the cloud-filtered light, had a rich glow about it that tickled that little “wow” receptor in my brain.  On top of the temple was the golden phoenix that I had noticed earlier from outside.  It rose up to pass the tree line before soaring into the sky with wings open; the sky and the trees on the mountain behind it both welcomed the mythical, golden bird.  Moreover, the whole structure was built on top of a large stone that sits at the edge of a reflecting pond with tiny islands around it.  On those islands grew trees that reach towards the temple.  The water of the pond reflects all of the details of the temple and the small islands surrounding it.  It was like looking down into an alternate dimension and seeing everything as a mirror-image; the buildings and trees and stones all slightly distorted by the little waves that the afternoon breeze was stirring up.  A camera can not capture the sense of realism that I got looking across the water at this building and knowing that, sometime in antiquity, some people got together and decided to build a huge, golden structure as a place to practice their religion.  While I was getting over my culture shock and still engrossed in my thoughts, the others were taking group photos down the trail while doing the Dr. Evil pinkie-up pose from Austin Powers.

We made our way around behind the temple to the gardens which wound their way through the foothills of the Daimonji Mountain.  It may not have seemed like much, but it was the simplicity and the connection to nature that was the key element in this experience.  I could hear the light breeze as it tickled the leaves, the gentle lapping of the tiny ripples in the mirror pond, and the calls of birds, all like a symphony being conducted by the mountain; it provided the background to the lush, green visual buffet that was spread out before me.  I remained somewhat detached from the group for the first half of the trail, stopping frequently to snap a picture or to simply admire a scene.  That was when it hit me – this is an experience of Zen Buddhism, this is a moment of inner peace and meditation while surrounded by nature.  The big, elaborate temples were one aspect of it, but if I concentrated on the buildings too long then I lost sight of their surroundings.  A truer perspective would be to take it all in and find meaning in the natural beauty, forgetting all about the metropolis that lay just beyond that line of trees.  

I then came across a funny little triplet of stones jutting out of the ground behind a low, wooden railing.  Behind them was another mirror pond with a small island in the middle, marked by a skinny stone marker, about the height of a person, with divided sections towards the top that reminded me of the main temple building.  Little dragonflies zigzagged over the pond silently and one even came over and landed momentarily on one of the three stones, each of which had a very faint raised relief in the likeness of a Buddha.  In my mind I already understood the scene from having read about it and seen it in pictures, but seeing it in person made me realize that I was by no means an expert on these things.  The three stones surrounded in a semicircle a small, stone bowl and overflowing from that bowl – actually, more in the general vicinity of the bowl, since some had landed a good three feet from the bowl – was a heap of coins which visitors had thrown in for luck.  The pile of shiny metal was a sharp contrast to the nature around it and this made me consider my own place in this scene of nature: why, in the vast number of people on these temple grounds, should I be the one that is observing the intricacies while the others seem to only glance about and move on?  There really isn’t an answer to that – or, at least, I never found an answer to that question – it was enough for me to just be experiencing a facet of a culture so far removed from the one that I grew up with.

Making my way back down the hill I rejoined the group near the souvenir shops that crowded the path just before it dipped down several wide sets of stairs back to the street level.  These sorts of shops were par for the course for all tourist attractions in Japan, and this location was no different.  Everything that you could find in these shops you could find just outside the temple for half the price, but the convenience of being right there inside, while the memories of the Golden Temple were still fresh in people’s minds, prompted these little shop owners to jack their prices way up.  I wondered quizzically if this too was part of the Zen Buddhism experience and chuckled to myself as I proceeded down the stairs with my group of friends.  The whole experience seemed so sublime now that I was heading toward the exit, like a dream that your mind concocts while your eyes are still open.  My friends ask me what I find so humorous, to which I reply, “It’s nothing,” as we step across the threshold and onto the street, bathed in the hum of the modern world.

Johnny Rockets is a place for the old at heart.  Maybe that statement doesn’t work exactly the same as the inverse, but it doesn’t make it any less true; though, you certainly don’t have to be an old fellow to appreciate what this restaurant is doing. For those that remember or simply wish to experience the feeling of 1950’s Americana in a restaurant, Johnny Rockets is right up your alley.  Located on 1st street on Paseo De San Antonio, this little diner is only a short walk from SJSU campus and is located next to the northbound light rail station, making it a convenient stop for food on the way home from school, for those who take the VTA. 

My experience in this restaurant goes back several years ever since I first started attended SJSU, but the chain itself has been around since 1986 and has locations throughout most of the US as well as in a selection of foreign countries ranging from Germany to the Philippines.  They may not be as old as some of the other restaurants of the same style, such as Mel’s Drive In up in San Francisco, but they do have a large number of locations so, no matter where you are you will not be too far from Johnny Rockets. 

On a cool Thursday evening I walked in the local Johnny Rockets here near campus with my buddy Daniel.  While the sky outside was dimming down for the night the lights inside the diner were bright and inviting.  Outside, however, the neon sign had a few letters that were dark, leading us to jest about exactly what “on ckets” meant.  Jokes aside, the staff was inviting, offering us the choice of whatever seat we wanted.  Looking around there was a choice between several large booths, a set of rather high-set tables with pairs of equally high chairs, or the counter.  We picked the counter as it seemed to have the best view of the whole place.  The whole place was decked out in a style reminiscent of a 50’s Chevy, complete with chrome and extra-shiny, red seat cushions, and the mandatory selection of oldies tunes squeaking out of the tiny ceiling speakers.  After ordering we took in the artwork adorning the walls, which consisted of the usual sugary portraits of way-too-happy families, the old poster of Rosie the Riveter glaring at you from the corner, and the life-sized pictures of a man and a woman on the bathroom doors which always seem spook the unsuspecting guest who turns the corner.  On the counter were small jukeboxes with the selection of songs on flipping pages inside and a row of polished white buttons at the bottom for making your selection.  It really did give the atmosphere that feeling that is most commonly associated with the time period which was furthered by the little paper hats and bright white uniform which the staff wore. 

The food will probably not move you to tears, but after all the times I have been there I can vouch for the place being very authentic.  The burgers are hand-pressed and grilled on the large open grill and the condiments are always fresh and tasty.  The plates which the food came on are noteworthy in that the fries come in a big plastic basket, lined with wax paper, and the sandwiches came on a small plastic plate – some may say not much for presentation, but I say that this simplicity is what makes it so authentic. 

So, the last point to make is about the price.  You won’t break the bank by visiting this diner, but you certainly won’t walk away thinking that the food didn’t measure up to the price.  Overall, I would say that the food really holds up to the value of the price – they even offer a special deal for those that want to add the traditional fries and fountain drink to their order.  So swing on by Johnny Rockets next time you are in the mood for a hamburger and you will be pleasantly surprised by the experience of old Americana brought to life.

She’s staring at me from behind her glass cage, smiling a PVC smile and sporting exquisitely crafted curves.  I admire her with an almost primal desire – that inner voice that screams that I need to own her and keep her safely tucked away on a shelf is clawing at me.  But, unfortunately she is not for sale.  I can only long for her from a distance.  This unrequited love of the display-only figure that I revisit every time I arrive at the front of this store, almost like a trial that must be overcome before entering into the realm of good and merchandise that awaits just beyond this hallway.

The store is called “Anime Palace” and is located in Sunnyvale just off San Thomas Expressway near Highway 101.  Specializing in Anime-related merchandise of all shapes and sizes, this is one of only a handful of stores of this kind that can be found here in Northern California, and the only one with such an impressive selection and reasonable prices.  I have been acquaintanced with the owner of this store, Levin, through three new locations and five years of conventions.  He has continued to offer friendly service and keeps the available selection broad with a variety of merchandise and several ways in which to purchase it.  

For the lover of large PVC (plastic much like the kind used in pipes for plumbing) figures, Anime Palace offers various options ranging from 1/12 all the way up to 1/4 scale figures of the highest quality and detail.  For the Gundam (popular giant robot series) enthusiast there is an enormous selection of models for all degrees of difficulty and detail – my personal favorite is the Perfect Grade model series, each containing over a million parts that make up a single model, though the assembly can be a pain if you do not have the patience.  Anime Palace also had a large selection of small figures (often smaller than six inches tall), known as gachapon, which are originally intended to be included in coin-operated vending machines but are also sold individually for a slightly higher price.  A special method of purchasing these which Anime Palace offers allows you to chose which of the characters you want in a set from the array of bags hanging along the far wall.  In addition, you can chose from other merchandise which includes trading cards, plush dolls, pins & patches, video games, pencil boards, t-shirts, posters, and various other printed items.  There is never a lack of things to pine over, or actually purchase if you have the money to throw around.

The atmosphere of Anime Palace is usually quite serene, depending on who is working the counter.  If his assistant, Dino, is working the front desk then there is sometimes a catchy tune playing over the sound system while you shop.  Levin is always open to suggestions and takes special orders for items which are not currently in stock, making his store the go to place for those that do not trust some of the more sketchy online dealers.  Also, I recommend trying to catch the Anime Palace booth at your local convention – he visits almost all of the conventions in the U.S. year-round and always has a selection of convention-specific merchandise that you will not see in the store regularly.  

So, to wrap things up, Anime Palace has a great selection that will appeal to any Anime fan and is a popular spot for enthusiasts to hang out with like-minded individuals.  I would recommend not taking your entire life-savings to this store though, as it will quickly disappear!  But, provided that have the time and the money, you can spend quite a lot of both at this location.