Do you still remember that we are in a new age?And do you remember how it felt like when you arrived in a new century, in a new millennium?Well, for us, it’s been like visiting a country never before visited. Before arriving, we were blown up with expectations. It’s a new century out there. A brave new world must be in store for us. A whole new set of rules, a new order, a new paradigm. We’re finally getting away from it all. Once we have arrived, however, we still have to breathe and eat to stay active; catch colds and feel embarrassed with pants down; and work to bring home even the base bacon. Nothing whatsoever new in the newly arrived age, either! We even tend to forget we are on this side of the new millennium.“Nothing” may be too much to say still. There’ve been a few new happenings worth telling this year, just as many as there were in any year of the past century. For Masami, the born globetrotter, this has been a helluva year. And so too may next year.The Hide-Sam family went overseas every summer in the last century. They went to Hawaii, New York, Thai, Hong Kong, Singapore, Florida, Guam, Seattle-Vancouver, and Las Vegas, with Masami always as the planner. From the beginning of the year, Masami was planning on a trip to San Diego, California. Swimming in a plush-hotel pool, visiting theme parks and aquariums, even shopping around for a house to live after Hideaki’s retirement were on her itinerary. Seika’s frequent fevers in spring, however, forced her to take too many paid days off. At first, she considered settling for Hawaii, or even Guam where they could visit by taking fewer days off because there is less or little jet-lag time loss. Such a hassle would only take away from the joy, she thought, so they went on a three-day bus tour on Hokkaido, the northernmost island of Japan. Cairns, Australia during the year-end break was her next hope; then she wouldn’t have to take paid days off; they could be back before New Year. Alas, the world changed in September. Suddenly air travel became everybody’s nightmare. They couldn’t take their jewel kid with them overseas. Masami could, but his grandpas and grandmas wouldn’t let them. Especially after winning in late September a Mickey-relieved suitcase with all its inside lined with Mickey-printed cloth in a net lottery, she hates terrorists, she hates war, she hates being stuck home. The September-11 incident also changed Hideaki’s fate. On a school journey, he was to go to Sydney, Australia in November. From the beginning of the year, he was reading Sydney Morning Herald via the Internet, studying Australian history and Sydney geography, and singing its national anthem Advance Australian Fair every night. Alas, the school journey was called off towards the end of September by the principal at the suggestion of the all-powerful MEXT (Ministry of Education, Culture, Science and Technology). The plan was changed and the new destination was Osaka and Kyoto, the east-Japan megalopolises. The second day of their five-day tour was to be dedicated to the kuidaore Dine & Die District in the Dotonbori, Osaka. That morning, he presented his students with his presents. Out of pity for the ruined trip to Australia, he’d managed by all means to get hold of five packs each of two Australian delicacies, crocodile and kangaroo jerky. He wishes he could put the blame on the kuidaore visit and that the problem would go away as the Dine & Die memory faded away, but his Battle of the Bulge is now years long, carried over from the last century.  It’s always said that there’re three important things for children. They are study, study and study. It’s been such a year for Seika. Seeing Dad and Mom using the computer, he has learned to play games on the Internet and to use the Encarta Encyclopedia. Hearing his father recite all the US Presidents’ names, he has learned them all. He dwarfs his father even. Consulting Encarta, he can recognize all the faces that go with those names. His father only recites all the family names but Seika, by consulting Encarta, has learned all the first, middle and family names of all the US Presidents. Do you know what the “S” in Harry S Truman stands for? Seika does. By the end of summer, he learned to recite all the US states and their capitals, all the names of all the Japanese Emperors; and all the Showa-to-Heisei-era Japanese Prime Ministers’ names. For those who fear lest all work and no play make him dull: No problem. He plays a lot of Game Boy Advance, with no good effects on his eyesight. He plays with Lego on his own while telling a lot of self-made stories, board games with his Dad, Japanese chess with his granddad. He has finally founded the Ishihara Children’s Toy Research Institute in his tatami-matted den and is hard at it as self-proclaimed president-cum-chief researcher-cum-gofer-cum-janitor. He says that his room, though looking like a mess on the surface, is in fact carefully planned arranged, and insists that Mom’s vacuum not trespass on the Institute’s premises. He is still learning how to ride a bicycle. This year, he has learned to straddle his de-outrigged bicycle and to barely walk on his tiptoes. He still prefers moving forward with his feet down to pedaling the bike on his own. Masami’s parents Teruaki and Hideko traveled to Germany, Hungary and Czech in spring. Teru is still learning German. Hideko, leader of a community chorus group this year, successfully held a singing presentation in fall. Seika attended the session, saw his grandma sing and compliment, and clapped. This year for Hideaki’s father Yoshifumi was monumental. He wrote his autobiography and compiled the Japanese short verses he had made for the last quarter century, and published them in a book. Mobilized as a proofreader, Hideaki unexpectedly found out about his father’s hitherto hidden youth experience. His wife Kiyoko was mostly in bed and lost weight. She was weak in summer, but towards the end of the year, she seems to have recovered and is all right. We wish you a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. (Phew, W would, but this year we finally don’t have to be so Texas-sized as “a Happy Millennium.”)