So the Emperor of Japan only opens his vast palace grounds to common people two days a year — New Year’s and his own birthday. The rest of the time the imperial gates have a little sign that says KEEP OUT on them, which I think comes off as a bit excessively blunt for an emperor. More appropriate for a Mr. Wilson.

Anyway, the great man’s birthday was today (the Emperor, not Mr. Wilson), so I went to see. I got up especially early, in fact, because the Emperor himself was scheduled to make an appearance at 10 am, on his imperial balcony to greet his well-wishers.

Had to wait in a variety of lineups for several hours just to make my way to the courtyard, but it was worth it, because I ended up being really close. Maybe the fourth or fifth row from the palace.

It’s all the better because the crowd is so incredibly enormous. But they’re all generally quiet as we wait, just small muttering, usual crowd stuff. They handed out these cheap paper Japanese flags at the gate, and people fiddle with them in a bored fashion. It is very cold outside.

Then, through the main palace window, you can see these sliding doors open and the Emperor and his family walk out onto the balcony. They look like the most incredibly uptight people in the universe. The women dress like Edwardian socialites with pillbox hats and high-necked suit-dress ensembles, while the men have long tuxedo coats and stripey pants like grooms at some pretentious summer wedding. Everyone has ramrod posture and they stand stiffly like robots.

But the crowd doesn’t care. The crowd goes absolutely nuts. Completely nuts. If I were a swearing man, I might even say “batshit insane.” Everyone around me is shrieking and cheering fanatically. People wave their stupid paper flags so hard the flag part tears off and they just wave the sticks. Some people raise their hands in the air like Christians at a revival meeting, while others do a modified version of that we “we are not worthy” wave thing. Many of the men scream out “BONZAI TENO” which means “long live the emperor.” The man beside me screams this saying particularly loudly and often.

They keep screaming as the Emperor, a small silver-haired man with a round, jolly face waves to the people in that mechanical way monarchs wave to people. Then he gives a little speech, which the crowd gets silent for. I am actually impressed by the speech, even though I don’t understand it. The Emperor has a natural charisma that is evident by the way he pauses and intones his words, regardless of what they are.

When he concludes there is more screaming, then the royal family retreats backwards behind their sliding doors, like little dolls in one of those Barvarian cuckoo clocks. Then everyone disperses to photograph the palace grounds.