Latest news with #Juliana
Motor 1
4 days ago
- Automotive
- Motor 1
Woman Has 2023 Hyundai Elantra. Then She Tries to Trade It for a Honda from AutoNation of Toyota In Las Vegas
A woman on TikTok recently shared her horrible car-buying experience at AutoNation of Toyota in Las Vegas. Juliana (@ wanted to trade in her 2023 Hyundai Elantra after being dissatisfied with the car due to ongoing issues. Well, the new car she picked out ended up being the same story. Juliana says she went to AutoNation of Las Vegas after finding a Honda online that she liked. 'The former Honda owner was a car guy. He had aftermarket taillights, muffler delete, full tint, and additional cosmetic accessories on the car,' she shares. Juliana didn't mind the aftermarket parts on the Honda and wanted to keep some of the cosmetic upgrades. She says AutoNation gave her a high appraisal for her 2023 Hyundai Elantra, and she was ready to complete the trade-in. 'You can take that [expletive] Elantra. I'm going to take this Honda,' Juliana says. She says financing discussions went smoothly, and the trade went through. However, not everything went well afterward. There Should Never Have Been a Sticker She says she noticed her Honda wasn't very clean when she went to pick it up. She demanded that the shop redo the cleaning job. Additionally, she noticed some of the aftermarket features were missing after she requested workers to leave them on. The shop re-cleaned the Honda, but Juliana noticed part of the front tint had been ripped off. She says the mechanics ripped the tint while trying to remove a car wash sticker. 'I worked at a car wash, and there never should have been a sticker on the windshield with the tint. The tint will come off with the sticker,' one TikTok commenter said. At first, the dealership agreed to fix the tint, but then declined after realizing it was never supposed to sell Juliana the car with the windshield tint because the percentage was too high. Was an AirTag and a Flat Tire Included In the Deal? The trouble continued after leaving the dealership. While driving, Juliana's boyfriend hears an Apple AirTag noise going off in the car. Considering this is her car now, it's concerning to be monitored and tracked by the previous owner's AirTag. Juliana asks the dealership to contact the old owner about the AirTag and to remove it. The AirTag is under one of the seats; however, the previous owner and the mechanics couldn't locate it anywhere. The dealership tells Juliana the previous owner will come the following day to disconnect the AirTag from his account, and they will watch him, which she accepts. Moments after leaving the dealership, the Honda's tire pressure monitor sensor (TPMS) goes off. The TPMS warning appears, and Juliana hears a few thunks. She says it turned out that her tire had gone completely flat, and the thunks were her driving on her rim. 'I had no idea it was flat until I parked it,' she shares. The shop refills the tire with air and informs her that if the issue happens again, it'll pay for a tow truck. The next trip Juliana takes, the TPMS goes off, leaving her with a flat tire again. After another trip back to the shop, her tire is replaced because the mechanics couldn't locate the leaks in her old tire. Now, the Taillights Are Out To add salt to the wound, Juliana's taillights break. Once again, she finds herself at the dealership with a new issue, just to be told it can't be fixed. 'I'm upset they couldn't fix the aftermarket taillights. They were really cute,' she says. The mechanics didn't specialize in servicing those aftermarket taillights and couldn't diagnose the issue. They replaced her headlights while her car was still under warranty, noting that if they had fixed the aftermarket ones and they broke a year later, it would be a $1,000 expense, which Juliana didn't want to take on. 'After owning my car for two days, I no longer have my car. The taillights are on backorder. This has been one of the most exhausting and frustrating things,' she vents. Juliana told Motor1 via email, 'Car buying is somewhat like gambling. Sometimes you sink a lot of money into something that doesn't work, other times you put a couple bucks into a machine that gives a grand prize. You can know everything there is to know about every car, every dealership, but you never know what's gonna happen till you sit down and put your money down.' Should You Buy a Car with Aftermarket Parts? Aftermarket parts are replacement components for vehicles that are not made by the original equipment manufacturer (OEM), Investopedia reports. According to AutoZone , aftermarket parts can cost 20 to 50% less than similar OEM parts in many cases. OEM parts typically cost more because of the brand name, the fact that they go through manufacturer-specific quality checks, and dealership prices are often higher. OEM parts should be chosen when dealing with newer cars under warranty, leased vehicles, and high-tech electronic parts that may require dealership programming. Aftermarket parts are a better option when dealing with older cars or out-of-warranty models, routine maintenance updates, or performance upgrades. Ultimately, whether to purchase a car with aftermarket parts comes down to buyers' priorities about cost and whether the car is under warranty. What to Do If Your Used Car From the Dealership Has a Bunch of Problems? An auto warranty is a promise to fix certain defects or malfunctions during a specific timeframe after you buy a vehicle, the Federal Trade Commission reports. All used car dealers are required by federal law to tell buyers whether a used car is being sold with or without a warranty, the Texas Attorney General shares. The buyer's guide will state 'as is' or "warranty" when buying. 'As is' acknowledges the vehicle does not have a warranty, and the seller is under no obligation for repairs. If the car is under 'warranty,' the seller must list exactly what parts and services are covered and the duration of coverage. So, if the car that was purchased has issues with a warranty, it's best to have the dealership take care of those issues while covered under warranty. If the car is repeatedly having issues while under warranty, it may be classified as a 'lemon.' According to Progressive , a "lemon" is a term for a car with a significant defect or malfunction that makes it unsafe to drive. Lemon laws require the manufacturer to repair your vehicle and, if it cannot do so after a reasonable number of attempts, it must either replace or refund your vehicle, the Better Business Bureau (BBB) reports. Each state creates its own laws for vehicles experiencing issues, Kelley Blue Book shares. The BBB has also broken down each state's lemon laws. Commenters Chime In In the comments section, viewers suggested avoiding buying a car with aftermarket parts and that Juliana should consider returning her Honda. 'I would never buy a car with a bunch of aftermarket parts, they always cause problems,' one TikTok commenter shared. 'I would return it and buy a new one at this point,' another replied. Motor1 has contacted AutoNation of Honda Las Vegas via phone. It contacted AutoNation's corporate office via press email. This story will be updated if AutoNation responds. Now Trending 'I'm So Sorry For Wasting Y'all's Time:' Woman Notices a 'Burning' Smell in Her New Car. The Mechanic Says Something Unexpected 'I'd Divorce:' California BMW Salesman Says the Husband Found Out Something About His Wife at Close. Now They Can't Get Approved Get the best news, reviews, columns, and more delivered straight to your inbox, daily. back Sign up For more information, read our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use . Share this Story Facebook X LinkedIn Flipboard Reddit WhatsApp E-Mail Got a tip for us? Email: tips@ Join the conversation ( )
Yahoo
24-07-2025
- General
- Yahoo
How millennials ruined summer camp
This story originally appeared in , Vox's newsletter about kids, for everyone. . Summer camp is supposed to be fun. It's a place for swimming, crafts, new friendships, and learning repetitive songs that will annoy your family members well into September. What's not to like? A lot, apparently. One big reason parents are letting their children 'rot' at home this summer, according to the New York Times, is that kids complain so much about going to camp. Of course, kids have always whined about doing stuff, even stuff they basically like. But one reader, Juliana, wrote to me recently that while she enjoyed day camp as a child, 'my kid tells us every day he doesn't want to go back.' Is it possible that camp is just worse now? It's definitely different. Experts and parents alike report a shift towards ever more specialized camps — focused on everything from coding to urban farming — and toward shorter, 1- or 2-week sessions rather than camps that run the full summer. While these changes can give families more flexibility and kids a chance to pursue their interests, they can also make it more challenging to form friendships and turn camp into an extension of the high-pressure environment many kids already face during the school year. I can't say definitively whether camp is less fun than it used to be, but I did come away from my reporting with a better understanding of what kids get out of camp, what adults want them to get, and why the two don't always match up. The history of camp Summer camp in America started in the 19th century as a response to anxieties about urbanization and its effects on boys and young men. One early camp founder, Ernest Balch, complained about 'the miserable condition of boys from well-to-do families in the summer hotels,' starting his camp so that boys would have to learn to fend for themselves in nature. Early camps emphasized the character-building powers of the wilderness. As one brochure put it, 'A camp in the woods bordering on a beautiful lake, breathing the healthful, bracing air of the pines, viewing Nature in her ever-changing moods, living a free, outdoor life, and having at all times the sympathetic companionship of young men of refinement, experience, and character — is this not the ideal summer outing for a boy?' Soon, settlement houses began sponsoring camps for urban youth from poor families, and by the 1920s, camp was becoming more common across social classes, said Michael Smith, a history professor at Ithaca College who has studied summer camps. While early camps had been sleepaway camps, more day camps sprang up in the 1960s and '70s as more mothers joined the workforce and families needed summer child care. These camps were often generalized in their programming, offering activities like crafts and swimming. But in the late 20th century, camps started to become more specialized, focusing on single topics like sports, computers, or space rather than lanyards and nature walks. The shift may have been driven by families who wanted their kids to practice a specific skill at camp, rather than simply getting a taste of the outdoors, Smith said. Some camps also saw a demand for a more academic environment as anxiety around college admissions ramped up. Hollie Kissler, the director of a Portland, Oregon, day camp told Bloomberg that around 2001, parents started asking for worksheets and reading logs at camp. Campers then would have been millennials, the generation sending their kids to camp (and influencing camp offerings) today. Meanwhile, with families juggling more complicated summer schedules, more parents wanted the option of shorter camps for their kids. 'Even camps that used to have a nine-week schedule increasingly considered moving to a two-session schedule,' Leslie Paris, author of the book Children's Nature: The Rise of the American Summer Camp, told Vox earlier this summer. Today, the most common session length is one week, Henry DeHart, interim president and CEO of the American Camp Association, told me. The downsides of the modern camp experience Some fear that the trend toward shorter sessions could make it harder for campers to form friendships. Juliana, the reader who wrote to me, wondered if 1-week blocks might be less 'conducive to building community or finding your place at camp, since the cohort changes every week.' When it comes to positive developmental outcomes for kids, like building social skills and perseverance, research by the American Camp Association has shown that session length doesn't matter, DeHart said. Still, 'there's no doubt, if you have more time with folks, you can develop deeper relationships.' The trend toward specialization also has pros and cons, experts and families say. Niche camps allow kids to delve into their interests. 'My daughter loves ceramics and is very excited about her one week ceramics camp,' Melinda Wenner Moyer, a journalist and author who has written about camp, told me in an email. There are also dedicated camps for neurodivergent kids and children with disabilities, who aren't always well-served by traditional camps. Some groups even offer camps for kids who have been through particular traumatic experiences, like being burned or losing a family member, DeHart said. But when special camps are too academic or parent-driven, they can be detrimental, some say. 'I worry a little about kids who are enrolled in specialized camps because their parents want them to develop or master a particular skill,' Wenner Moyer said. 'Kids today say they often feel pressured by their parents to excel and achieve, which is not healthy for their self-esteem.' Was camp ever fun? Going to camp to bolster your future college application might be less fun than, say, splashing around in a lake. If camps have become more pre-professional than they used to be, maybe it's no surprise that kids are dragging their feet about attending. On the other hand, maybe fun has never been central to the premise of camp. Whether it's shoring up 19th-century boys' supposedly flagging masculinity or preparing kids for the rat race of late capitalism, camp has always been more about adult anxieties than about what kids actually want to do. Even the most traditional wilderness-based camps, Smith points out, were often a huge culture shock for city kids. Possibly the most famous song about camp, the 1963 classic 'Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,' is about a camp rife with poison ivy, foodborne illness, and malaria. In fact, it's possible that fun has always been a byproduct of camp, something kids wrest from whatever structure adults try to impose upon them. The day camp I attended throughout my childhood focused on more traditional camp activities when I was a little kid (swimming, stick-gathering, arguing). But when I was around 10, it became more specialized — whether that was due to changing times or simply different programming for different age groups, I'm not sure. I ended up in 'video camp,' during which we used camcorders to make our own short films. I'm pretty sure we were supposed to produce G-rated content, but every single movie the campers made was about murder, including our group's masterpiece, the vaguely Terminator-inspired slasher flick Death Four Times Over. The following session, we were informed that no more onscreen violence would be allowed, and each film would have to have a morally uplifting message. But the damage was done. It was the most fun I ever had. What I'm reading Families of children with complex medical needs, many of whom have specialized care covered by Medicaid, fear losing their coverage now that Trump's Big Beautiful Bill has become law. Multiple children who entered the US as unaccompanied minors under humanitarian parole in the past year have received letters from the Department of Homeland Security telling them to leave the country immediately. 'Do not attempt to unlawfully remain in the United States,' one letter read. 'The Federal Government will find you.' Earlier this month, the Trump administration froze almost $7 billion in education funding, some of it going to afterschool and summer programs for low-income youth. After lawsuits and public outcry, however, the administration said it would reinstate afterschool funding. My older kid and I have been revisiting one of my childhood favorites: Calvin & Hobbes. The strip turns out to be rife with 1980s references that take some time to explain to a 7-year-old ('When I was a kid, grownups were really worried about violence on TV,' I caught myself saying). The core relationship between a child and his stuffed/obviously real tiger friend, however, needs no explanation. Solve the daily Crossword
Vox
24-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Vox
How millennials ruined summer camp
is a senior correspondent for Vox, where she covers American family life, work, and education. Previously, she was an editor and writer at the New York Times. She is also the author of four novels, including the forthcoming Bog Queen, which you can preorder here This story originally appeared in Kids Today, Vox's newsletter about kids, for everyone. Sign up here for future editions. Summer camp is supposed to be fun. It's a place for swimming, crafts, new friendships, and learning repetitive songs that will annoy your family members well into September. What's not to like? A lot, apparently. One big reason parents are letting their children 'rot' at home this summer, according to the New York Times, is that kids complain so much about going to camp. Of course, kids have always whined about doing stuff, even stuff they basically like. But one reader, Juliana, wrote to me recently that while she enjoyed day camp as a child, 'my kid tells us every day he doesn't want to go back.' Is it possible that camp is just worse now? It's definitely different. Experts and parents alike report a shift towards ever more specialized camps — focused on everything from coding to urban farming — and toward shorter, 1- or 2-week sessions rather than camps that run the full summer. While these changes can give families more flexibility and kids a chance to pursue their interests, they can also make it more challenging to form friendships and turn camp into an extension of the high-pressure environment many kids already face during the school year. I can't say definitively whether camp is less fun than it used to be, but I did come away from my reporting with a better understanding of what kids get out of camp, what adults want them to get, and why the two don't always match up. The history of camp Summer camp in America started in the 19th century as a response to anxieties about urbanization and its effects on boys and young men. One early camp founder, Ernest Balch, complained about 'the miserable condition of boys from well-to-do families in the summer hotels,' starting his camp so that boys would have to learn to fend for themselves in nature. Early camps emphasized the character-building powers of the wilderness. As one brochure put it, 'A camp in the woods bordering on a beautiful lake, breathing the healthful, bracing air of the pines, viewing Nature in her ever-changing moods, living a free, outdoor life, and having at all times the sympathetic companionship of young men of refinement, experience, and character — is this not the ideal summer outing for a boy?' Related How summer camp became an American obsession Soon, settlement houses began sponsoring camps for urban youth from poor families, and by the 1920s, camp was becoming more common across social classes, said Michael Smith, a history professor at Ithaca College who has studied summer camps. While early camps had been sleepaway camps, more day camps sprang up in the 1960s and '70s as more mothers joined the workforce and families needed summer child care. These camps were often generalized in their programming, offering activities like crafts and swimming. But in the late 20th century, camps started to become more specialized, focusing on single topics like sports, computers, or space rather than lanyards and nature walks. The shift may have been driven by families who wanted their kids to practice a specific skill at camp, rather than simply getting a taste of the outdoors, Smith said. Some camps also saw a demand for a more academic environment as anxiety around college admissions ramped up. Hollie Kissler, the director of a Portland, Oregon, day camp told Bloomberg that around 2001, parents started asking for worksheets and reading logs at camp. Campers then would have been millennials, the generation sending their kids to camp (and influencing camp offerings) today. Meanwhile, with families juggling more complicated summer schedules, more parents wanted the option of shorter camps for their kids. 'Even camps that used to have a nine-week schedule increasingly considered moving to a two-session schedule,' Leslie Paris, author of the book Children's Nature: The Rise of the American Summer Camp, told Vox earlier this summer. Today, the most common session length is one week, Henry DeHart, interim president and CEO of the American Camp Association, told me. The downsides of the modern camp experience Some fear that the trend toward shorter sessions could make it harder for campers to form friendships. Juliana, the reader who wrote to me, wondered if 1-week blocks might be less 'conducive to building community or finding your place at camp, since the cohort changes every week.' When it comes to positive developmental outcomes for kids, like building social skills and perseverance, research by the American Camp Association has shown that session length doesn't matter, DeHart said. Still, 'there's no doubt, if you have more time with folks, you can develop deeper relationships.' The trend toward specialization also has pros and cons, experts and families say. Niche camps allow kids to delve into their interests. 'My daughter loves ceramics and is very excited about her one week ceramics camp,' Melinda Wenner Moyer, a journalist and author who has written about camp, told me in an email. There are also dedicated camps for neurodivergent kids and children with disabilities, who aren't always well-served by traditional camps. Some groups even offer camps for kids who have been through particular traumatic experiences, like being burned or losing a family member, DeHart said. But when special camps are too academic or parent-driven, they can be detrimental, some say. 'I worry a little about kids who are enrolled in specialized camps because their parents want them to develop or master a particular skill,' Wenner Moyer said. 'Kids today say they often feel pressured by their parents to excel and achieve, which is not healthy for their self-esteem.' Was camp ever fun? Going to camp to bolster your future college application might be less fun than, say, splashing around in a lake. If camps have become more pre-professional than they used to be, maybe it's no surprise that kids are dragging their feet about attending. On the other hand, maybe fun has never been central to the premise of camp. Whether it's shoring up 19th-century boys' supposedly flagging masculinity or preparing kids for the rat race of late capitalism, camp has always been more about adult anxieties than about what kids actually want to do. Even the most traditional wilderness-based camps, Smith points out, were often a huge culture shock for city kids. Possibly the most famous song about camp, the 1963 classic 'Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,' is about a camp rife with poison ivy, foodborne illness, and malaria. In fact, it's possible that fun has always been a byproduct of camp, something kids wrest from whatever structure adults try to impose upon them. The day camp I attended throughout my childhood focused on more traditional camp activities when I was a little kid (swimming, stick-gathering, arguing). But when I was around 10, it became more specialized — whether that was due to changing times or simply different programming for different age groups, I'm not sure. I ended up in 'video camp,' during which we used camcorders to make our own short films. I'm pretty sure we were supposed to produce G-rated content, but every single movie the campers made was about murder, including our group's masterpiece, the vaguely Terminator-inspired slasher flick Death Four Times Over. The following session, we were informed that no more onscreen violence would be allowed, and each film would have to have a morally uplifting message. But the damage was done. It was the most fun I ever had. What I'm reading Families of children with complex medical needs, many of whom have specialized care covered by Medicaid, fear losing their coverage now that Trump's Big Beautiful Bill has become law. Multiple children who entered the US as unaccompanied minors under humanitarian parole in the past year have received letters from the Department of Homeland Security telling them to leave the country immediately. 'Do not attempt to unlawfully remain in the United States,' one letter read. 'The Federal Government will find you.' Earlier this month, the Trump administration froze almost $7 billion in education funding, some of it going to afterschool and summer programs for low-income youth. After lawsuits and public outcry, however, the administration said it would reinstate afterschool funding. My older kid and I have been revisiting one of my childhood favorites: Calvin & Hobbes. The strip turns out to be rife with 1980s references that take some time to explain to a 7-year-old ('When I was a kid, grownups were really worried about violence on TV,' I caught myself saying). The core relationship between a child and his stuffed/obviously real tiger friend, however, needs no explanation.
Tokyo Weekender
07-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Tokyo Weekender
Tokyo's Lost Showa-Era Nightlife Club Scene
There was a time when people in Tokyo not only worked hard, but also partied just as hard. From the mid-1970s through the 1980s, even the asphalt streets seemed lacquered with possibility. The economy was booming, and the nights stretched endlessly, glittering with neon signs, alcohol, rhinestones and fantasy. This was a city intoxicated by its own potential. And the high — while it lasted — was electric. List of Contents: Tokyo's Decade of Excess Sunday School at the Shinjuku Disco The Rise of Host Clubs Where Queer Tokyo Survived Roppongi and the Rise of Bubble Glamor Juliana's Tokyo and the Death of an Era The Afterglow Related Posts Flamingo Bar in Roppongi, opened 1985 Tokyo's Decade of Excess In the 80s, nightclubs shimmered like Tokyo's answer to the Jazz Age — a playground for the newly rich, where money flowed as freely as the Dom Pérignon. The engine behind it all was the bubble economy — a dizzying surge of real estate speculation, loose credit and inflated stock prices that made office workers and landowners rich. Land in Tokyo's Ginza cost more than in Manhattan and banks threw loans at anything with a pulse. To party in Roppongi was to believe in the illusion that the boom would never bust. That beauty could be bought. And that desire had no cost. Sunday Disco at BIBA (c. 1984) | Obata Hitoshi/Hagamag Sunday School at the Shinjuku Disco It wasn't just adults filling the dance floors. By the early 80s , a bizarre phenomenon had taken over: daylight discos packed with junior high and high school students. In Shinjuku's Kabukicho area, the towering Daini Toa Kaikan building became ground zero for this youthquake. Clubs, including BIBA, operated across four floors. What began as late-night dens for delinquent teens evolved following a 1982 murder involving two junior high school girls who were picked up at a Kabukicho disco and later attacked in Chiba, one of them killed. Afterwards, curfews were imposed, leading to a full-blown daytime party movement. 1984, BIBA opened at noon on Sundays. Lines of uniformed teenagers wrapped around the stairwell. The bathrooms were the only part of the building with windows, which made it easy to forget it was still daylight. The scene led to routines such as the Bump , a battle-like choreography between two boys, and the Step , a group dance for girls. There was even the Jenka conga line to ' Can't Take My Eyes Off You .' The Rise of Host Clubs Beneath Toa Kaikan's booming floors, another form of theatrical nightlife emerged: host clubs. These were male equivalents to hostess bars — young men in sharp suits, rhinestones and stage names who sold conversation, attention and illusion to women in Kabukicho. Host clubs trace back to the late 1960s . By the 80s, the number of these clubs had increased significantly, with roughly 50 establishments in Shinjuku alone. The format soon became highly competitive as hosts earned commissions on drink sales and attempted to climb up the rankings. Where Queer Tokyo Survived A few blocks from Kabukicho's neon dazzle lay another revolution — Shinjuku Ni‑chome, Tokyo's queer quarter since the late 1940s . After the 1956 passage of the Prostitution Prevention Law, as red-light districts were restructured, a different kind of nightlife began to flourish. By the 80s, Ni‑chome hosted hundreds of intimate bars catering to gay men, lesbians and trans patrons. Spaces were coded — specialized for butches, femmes, bears, drag — accessible by referral and loyalty. This nightlife was defiant and political. It was as much survival as it was spectacle. Juliana's Tokyo (c. 1995) Roppongi and the Rise of Bubble Glamor Meanwhile, Roppongi's nightlife turned excess into art. Discos such as Turia, King & Queen and Area catered to a new kind of elite: people who were fashion-forward, image-obsessed and flush with cash from the bubble economy. One venue, Turia, was designed to look like a spaceship crash-landed in the area. Created by space designer Kotetsu Yamamoto and run by Layton House, the club embodied the architectural absurdity of the time. However, it ended in tragedy. On January 5, 1988 , a massive lighting fixture fell onto the dance floor, killing three. For some, it felt like the final curtain call of the disco age. The Showa era would officially end just one year later. Turia, Roppongi: before and after the tragic light fixture incident in 1988 Juliana's Tokyo and the Death of an Era Even after Japan's Bubble Economy burst in 1991, triggering a decade-long financial slump and what would later be called the 'Lost Decade,' glamour didn't die overnight. The markets had crashed, property values plummeted and corporate excess began its slow unraveling. On the dance floors of Tokyo, though, denial still glittered. That same year, Juliana's Tokyo opened in the Shibaura waterfront district. It quickly became a national sensation. Gyaru in skin-tight bodycon dresses danced atop glowing otachidai (raised pedestals), while techno throbbed and strobe lights sliced through the smoke. Office workers and college kids flooded in nightly, waving feathered Juri-sen fans like battle flags. The chant 'Julianers, Tokyo' became a euphoric war cry for a generation refusing to surrender to the coming recession. Though it closed just three years later, Juliana's remains one of the most iconic nightspots in Tokyo's history. It symbolized the last gasp of Showa-era glamor — an opulent fantasy defiantly staged in the shadow of economic collapse. And when it closed, the lights didn't just go out on the dance floor. They dimmed on an era. One of Juliana's rave-night CDs has been digitized here — complete with pounding beats, screaming synths and the iconic chant itself. The Afterglow Today, many of the old disco buildings are gone. Toa Kaikan still stands, but the music has long since stopped. Juliana's became a sports shop, then an ad agency. Turia's site is unrecognizable. Velfarre, once the jewel of Roppongi, was demolished in 2007. The lights, however, haven't truly gone out. City pop, which encapsulates the smooth optimism of this era, has returned with global fervor. Vintage flyers circulate online. In Shinjuku's backstreets, aging bartenders still line up worn laser discs, and some hostess clubs haven't changed their carpet since 1984. Even today, you'll find 20-somethings lining up for Juliana-themed club nights, feathered fans in hand, dancing to the ghost of a beat that refuses to die. Tokyo hasn't forgotten. It's just dancing in other costumes now. Related Posts 10 Surprising Facts About Japanese City Pop Icons The Timeless Nostalgia of Casio Digital Watches Iconic City Pop Songs Covered or Sampled by Overseas Artists | List of 7
Global News
04-07-2025
- Global News
Cause of death revealed for tourist who fell near active Indonesian volcano
More details have been released about the death of Juliana Marins, who fell hundreds of feet near an active volcano in Indonesia last month. The Brazilian tourist, 26, was found dead on Mount Rinjani after she slipped and fell off a cliff while climbing Indonesia's second-highest volcano on June 21 with a group led by a tour guide. Indonesian rescue workers were finally able to reach Marins' body on June 24 and confirmed that she was found dead, following days of rescue efforts that were hampered by challenging weather conditions. Coroners from Brazil have confirmed Marins' cause of death in a report obtained by Agencia Brasil, which says she died from 'internal bleeding caused by damage to the organs and bone fractures' from a 'blunt force trauma a few hours before the body was recovered.' Story continues below advertisement The report claims that Marins is thought to have died about 20 minutes after the bleeding began, adding that the final results of the autopsy, which will include toxicology tests, are expected in two weeks. Medical personnel also ruled out hypothermia, as there were no signs of tissue damage to Marins' fingers. 0:34 Indonesian rescuers work to reach Brazilian hiker after volcano cliff fall On June 27, Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva said the Brazilian government would pay for the transportation of Marins' body from Indonesia back to Brazil. Get breaking National news For news impacting Canada and around the world, sign up for breaking news alerts delivered directly to you when they happen. Sign up for breaking National newsletter Sign Up By providing your email address, you have read and agree to Global News' Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy 'The federal government will provide all the necessary support to Juliana Marins' family, including the transportation of her body to Brazil,' he wrote on Instagram. 'I'm going to issue a new decree so that the Brazilian government takes on the responsibility of paying for the costs of Juliana's transfer to Brazil so that her family and friends can say goodbye to her with all the affection and love she deserves.' Story continues below advertisement Marins' sister, Marianna, told Brazilian outlet Fantástico that her sister was abandoned by her tour guide on the trail more than an hour before she fell. Her family released a statement on June 24 after Marins' body was recovered and said they would be seeking justice. 'Juliana suffered great negligence on the part of the rescue team,' the family wrote in a statement. 'If the team had reached her within the estimated time of 7 hours Juliana would still be alive.' Story continues below advertisement Several tourists have died in accidents while hiking the volcano over the past few years, according to local media reports, including a Malaysian tourist who also fell off a cliff in May. — With files from Reuters
