That casino was old and forlorn. Inside, it had the outdated concert
hall where gaudy revues and magic shows used to be abundant. Since the
casino lost its popularity and customers, the hall had been used as a
makeshift break area. Those who used up money for gambling and no longer
had anything to do sat there sparsely with vacant eyes, producing a
wretched atmosphere that perfectly matched the whole casino. My partner,
my mother and I was resting there after we lost most money. As it was
too gloomy to be sitting in the break area, my partner suggested that we
should use up the scarce rest of our money and leave the casino.
Each of us sat in front of our favorite slot machine. On the screen
of my slot, I came close to win with two matched pictures but the third
one didn’t come up in every turn. My mother and I quickly ran out of
money. Further down the floor, I saw my partner still playing. I left
him there and went back to our hotel with my mother.
It was the last day of our stay and I started packing for checkout.
The hotel looked out on the waterway that connected the hotel and the
casino. For a brief break from packing, I went out on the balcony of our
room and watched the waterway. Then I noticed something gigantic
floating far up the waterway. It was slowly flowing toward the hotel.
The closer it got, the more monstrous it became. It approached near
enough to tell what it was.
A tall, triangular-shaped white condominium was carried on a massive
barge. Tied behind it was a white enormous sailing ship. They were
carried carefully from the direction where the casino located.
Considering where it came from and how unusual they were to be carried
along the waterway, I assumed that they were some prizes of the casino. I
called my mother to the balcony and we wondered what kind of person had
extremely good fortune like this.
The barge and the ship stopped in front of the hotel, right under our
balcony. There was the third boat tied behind the ship. A man was
sitting in it almost buried in numerous boxes and bags. It meant he was
the winner. I gazed at the man with the biggest possible amount of envy.
And I gasped. The man who won all of those was no other than my
partner! I couldn’t shout, couldn’t scream but was just speechless. I
saw my partner getting off the boat and being welcomed by the hotel
staff. He gave them some instructions and they hurriedly moved around.
Soon, there was a knock on the door of our room. The bellboys brought
countless boxes of shoes and bags of brand clothes into our room.
Finally my partner came in. He said calmly, “It’s time for checkout.” I
told him that I hadn’t finished packing and he said, “It’s all taken
care of. I hired people to do the rest. We can just leave.”
We stepped out of the hotel. In front of my eyes, the white
condominium gleamed under the bright sunshine. The white sailing ship
gently swayed with its sails furled. I asked myself repeatedly, “Can
anything like this actually happen?”. My mother said, “I’ve always
wanted a condominium like this!” and got onboard the barge. My partner
returned onto the boat. I was excited enough to jump in the water and
floated by a swim ring that was connected to the boat. The fleet began
to move again and we were heading home.
While we were slowly moving down the waterway, I saw some parade
floats in the water ahead of us. The area was a popular resort
destination and the waterway threaded through many hotels. The parade
seemed one of the events held in the area. Seeing the floats far ahead
and the big condominium and the sailing ship before me, I asked my
partner, “This is a dream, isn’t it?” He had been expressionless up
until this point but smiled for the first time since he won. “Why? Are
you that happy?”, he asked me back. I usually dream a lot. Sometimes I
dream a very good one and feel ecstatic in it. But in those cases,
waking up is excruciatingly painful. Dreadful disappointment crushes me.
I’ve had those experiences more than too much and want no more. I would
do anything to avoid it. If this is also a dream, I have to wake up now
before euphoria gets inside me. Otherwise, I couldn’t bear a
disappointment of this magnitude.
I was sad that everything I had gotten would disappear when I woke
up. This was undoubtedly the best and the most vivid dream I’ve ever
had. But I had to know whether this was reality or not at this point in
order to minimize disappointment. I looked at the clear blue surface of
the waterway on which I was floating. It was sparkling in the sunlight. I
hit the surface and made it splash. Sprays of water showered on my
face. It was cold and refreshing. I slapped my wet cheeks with my both
hand. It hurt. Still, everything stayed as it was. I slapped my face
over and over, hearing the sound of slapping and splashing water and my
partner’s laughter. The condominium and the sailboat were still there. I
felt gentle breeze and drips of water streaming down my face. I looked
up the bright blue sky and got the dazzling sunshine over my face. I
didn’t wake up. This was all real!
Now that I was convinced this wasn’t a dream, I was able to take it
in. Indescribable happiness seized me. It almost choked me and I panted
for breath. I felt my lungs were pressed with happiness and heated like
coals. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life. I became a
billionaire. My life got redeemed. I was finally getting out of a prison
and living in a place where I should be. I was filled with a sense of
relief, peace, and freedom. I felt a lump in my throat. It was as if the
heated coals in my chest reached the boiling point and were about to
explode. Tears appeared in the bottom of my eyes. They began to liquefy
my sight. I blinked to shed tears. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I
opened my eyes again. Then - much to my horrible surprise - the sight
remained black. I blinked again and fixed my eyes on the darkness. It
was the ceiling above the bed of my room.
It was completely beyond belief. Although I made sure so many times,
all what happened was a dream. I was simply lying on my bed with tears
streaming down my face. The sensation I had felt was so real that I even
suspected this awakening was a dream. I sat up on the bed, bewildering.
Everything was gone along with happiness. I was dazed for a while
without moving. I uttered several times, “Can’t be a dream.” because it
was too real to be a dream. I made a mistake again that I’ve tried to
avoid all the time. This time, the mistake was huge. The dream was too
good, too vivid, and too happy. Accordingly, disappointment was
severely grave.
I felt the massive disappointment was trying to squash me. I couldn’t
get up. I kept sitting on the bed, and started weeping...
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Saturday, October 13, 2018
A Trip after The Storm hr611
Although I had received “the last letter to me” quoted as written from
my mother a few months before in which she wrote she wouldn’t like to
see me or hear from me or receive any gifts from me or stay in contact
with me any more for the rest of her life, I ignored it completely and
made an annual visit to my parents as usual. She had sent me that
offensive letter behind my father’s back and he doesn’t know about a
broken relationship between me and my mother.
My father also used to be bad-tempered and attack me when I returned home once a year or two. But since he sold our family’s house, he has welcomed me in a good mood at his small apartment in an unfamiliar town and hasn’t criticized me. He seems simply happy to see me each time I visit their apartment. And I know that is exactly what annoys my mother to the limit.
To her, her new life is degradation. She was always unhappy when she lived in a big house with her husband to whom she married for his money. And now she has become even unhappier living in the small apartment without our family’s fortune. It’s easy to imagine how disgusted she is by my father’s upbeat attitude toward his new life. She must have sought revenge to make him equally unhappy and come up with that letter. She thought I would stop visiting them as she asked to. That would take away one of his pleasures and get him one step closer to unhappiness. She loves any kind of plot all her life but none of them is ever clever. This one is no exception that is too apparent for me to be fallen into. My decision to carry out a visit despite her letter implicated harassment to her because it would show her that her wicked plot failed yet again.
A week before the trip, a big typhoon hit the western part of Japan where my parents live. Much damage resulted from it including to Kansai Airport on which my flight was going to arrive. As the airport is a man-made island in the sea, its runways and facilities were flooded by a storm surge. On top of that, a tanker crushed into the only bridge that connects the airport to the shore and broke it. The airport has been shut down.
I hesitated about the trip. I couldn’t decide whether I should cancel my reservations for the flight and the hotel. Above all things, I wondered if this was a sign telling me not to visit my parents.
But I had to go at all cost because it was my mother who had told me not to come. I’ve discovered and followed the unshaken rule since I was a teenager -do the opposite of what my mother says and I’ll be happy and everything will go well. This rule has worked 100 percent and has never failed in my life.
Meanwhile, the airport partially reopened unexpectedly sooner than reported. Among most suspended flights, mine was one of the few that partially started re-operating. The damaged bridge to the shore returned passable by the limited lanes. I visited my parents as I had planned.
I knew it would be so awkward to see my mother but I had determined not to get angry at her or blame her on her letter. If I did so, it would be her achievement. Her purpose is always to make me unhappy with any blow she could think of. I should behave unbreakable, which would be my blow against her.
My mother met me at the entrance of their apartment as if nothing had happened between us. She desperately acted joyfully, uttering shallow flattery like I looked young or my outfit was pretty. Not only when my father was around, but also when there were only two of us, we never mentioned about the letter. She just kept on flattering and wearing fake smile. She even told me what she had never told before -tons of complains about her favorite, my younger sister. What surprised me more than that was the fact my mother had aged so suddenly. Her countenance had changed too. She had a face like a devil. With her aged shape and evil countenance, she looked exactly like a witch in “Snow White”. Looking at her sudden change, I realized that she regretted the letter. The moment she dropped the letter into the mail box, she became aware that she was old and helpless. Numerous unusual disasters that hit her region after the letter, such as crazy heat, a big earthquake and the typhoon, made her more insecure and anxious. She regretted that she had cut me off from her life because she threw away a thin rope by herself that she could have relied on in the future. It’s too late now.
On the train back to the hotel, I felt good as everything went well on my side. At the same time, I felt an enormous relief and found how nervous I was during the visit. As it turned out, it was a showdown rather than a visit...
My father also used to be bad-tempered and attack me when I returned home once a year or two. But since he sold our family’s house, he has welcomed me in a good mood at his small apartment in an unfamiliar town and hasn’t criticized me. He seems simply happy to see me each time I visit their apartment. And I know that is exactly what annoys my mother to the limit.
To her, her new life is degradation. She was always unhappy when she lived in a big house with her husband to whom she married for his money. And now she has become even unhappier living in the small apartment without our family’s fortune. It’s easy to imagine how disgusted she is by my father’s upbeat attitude toward his new life. She must have sought revenge to make him equally unhappy and come up with that letter. She thought I would stop visiting them as she asked to. That would take away one of his pleasures and get him one step closer to unhappiness. She loves any kind of plot all her life but none of them is ever clever. This one is no exception that is too apparent for me to be fallen into. My decision to carry out a visit despite her letter implicated harassment to her because it would show her that her wicked plot failed yet again.
A week before the trip, a big typhoon hit the western part of Japan where my parents live. Much damage resulted from it including to Kansai Airport on which my flight was going to arrive. As the airport is a man-made island in the sea, its runways and facilities were flooded by a storm surge. On top of that, a tanker crushed into the only bridge that connects the airport to the shore and broke it. The airport has been shut down.
I hesitated about the trip. I couldn’t decide whether I should cancel my reservations for the flight and the hotel. Above all things, I wondered if this was a sign telling me not to visit my parents.
But I had to go at all cost because it was my mother who had told me not to come. I’ve discovered and followed the unshaken rule since I was a teenager -do the opposite of what my mother says and I’ll be happy and everything will go well. This rule has worked 100 percent and has never failed in my life.
Meanwhile, the airport partially reopened unexpectedly sooner than reported. Among most suspended flights, mine was one of the few that partially started re-operating. The damaged bridge to the shore returned passable by the limited lanes. I visited my parents as I had planned.
I knew it would be so awkward to see my mother but I had determined not to get angry at her or blame her on her letter. If I did so, it would be her achievement. Her purpose is always to make me unhappy with any blow she could think of. I should behave unbreakable, which would be my blow against her.
My mother met me at the entrance of their apartment as if nothing had happened between us. She desperately acted joyfully, uttering shallow flattery like I looked young or my outfit was pretty. Not only when my father was around, but also when there were only two of us, we never mentioned about the letter. She just kept on flattering and wearing fake smile. She even told me what she had never told before -tons of complains about her favorite, my younger sister. What surprised me more than that was the fact my mother had aged so suddenly. Her countenance had changed too. She had a face like a devil. With her aged shape and evil countenance, she looked exactly like a witch in “Snow White”. Looking at her sudden change, I realized that she regretted the letter. The moment she dropped the letter into the mail box, she became aware that she was old and helpless. Numerous unusual disasters that hit her region after the letter, such as crazy heat, a big earthquake and the typhoon, made her more insecure and anxious. She regretted that she had cut me off from her life because she threw away a thin rope by herself that she could have relied on in the future. It’s too late now.
On the train back to the hotel, I felt good as everything went well on my side. At the same time, I felt an enormous relief and found how nervous I was during the visit. As it turned out, it was a showdown rather than a visit...
Saturday, September 15, 2018
A Bloody Smudge hr610
When I was in the shower the other night, a drop of rinsed water from my
body sponge spattered right into my right eye. I washed my eye in haste
over and over so as no to get germs. It was one of those things that
happen all the time in our daily life and I didn’t worry so much. I
actually had forgotten about it by the time I went to sleep.
The next morning I stood in front of the bathroom sink with sleepy eyes as usual and saw my face in the mirror. In it, my right eye had a large smudge of blood in the white. My drowsy brain got electrified and I was instantly wide awake. It wasn’t simply bloodshot but a stain of blood spread in the half of the eye. It was ominous enough to frighten me badly. I remembered the water spatter in the shower, but it seemed too small to cause this big damage.
Is this a foretaste of some kind of a serious disease? Is a heart attack or something imminent? Am I going blind? Do I need to rush to the hospital that I hate so much and always keep away? Besieged by all kinds of sinister questions, I remembered I’ve often heard a bad reputation that the only hospital in my small town in the mountains has no good equipment nor good doctors. At the same time, I remembered a scene in some movie I once saw in which a man had the similar bloody smudge in his eye when he was about to die.
I sat at the table for breakfast across my partner with a mountainous amount of fear. As soon as he glanced at me, he stopped crunching cereal and turned pale. I asked him what was wrong and he answered that it was my eye. He looked into it for a moment then said that his eye sight became white out and couldn’t see anything. He started sweating heavily and claimed that sweat didn’t stop pouring out. He left for the bathroom in the middle of breakfast.
His reaction threw me deeper in terror. My eye with a smudge of blood must have been so horrible that he became sick. Since he’s a big fan of a TV drama ‘The Walking Dead’, he may have thought one of the zombies finally came to reality and appeared to him. The situation was reversed and he looked more ill than I was. About ten minutes later, thankfully, he felt better and resumed his cereal.
I was anxious all day long. I imagined I might fall flat at any moment. I might go unconscious or blind. Even if I kept surviving, I couldn’t go outside with this eye on my face especially because I foolishly care my appearance too much. With fear clawing hold of me, I spent the day moving slowly and quietly as if I was living in total darkness.
In the evening, my partner who had looked up my symptom on the Internet told me it was perfectly nothing wrong and would disappear by itself gradually in one to two weeks. That sent me the light from above with the angels’ choir. It was nothing! Suddenly I felt like I breathe again, and couldn’t feel any stupider. I wondered why I didn’t look up online by myself first thing in the morning. I had been dreadful all day and wasted the day just for nothing. As it turned out, all I needed was to wait for the smudge to disappear. I would pass the coming one to two weeks by donning this eye, avoiding acquaintances, trying to see as less residents as possible on the hallway of my apartment building, wearing sunglasses when eating out, and generally hiding away. While I was relieved and cheerful about that I wasn’t ill, another depressing feeling seized me as I thought about my life in hiding for the coming weeks...
The next morning I stood in front of the bathroom sink with sleepy eyes as usual and saw my face in the mirror. In it, my right eye had a large smudge of blood in the white. My drowsy brain got electrified and I was instantly wide awake. It wasn’t simply bloodshot but a stain of blood spread in the half of the eye. It was ominous enough to frighten me badly. I remembered the water spatter in the shower, but it seemed too small to cause this big damage.
Is this a foretaste of some kind of a serious disease? Is a heart attack or something imminent? Am I going blind? Do I need to rush to the hospital that I hate so much and always keep away? Besieged by all kinds of sinister questions, I remembered I’ve often heard a bad reputation that the only hospital in my small town in the mountains has no good equipment nor good doctors. At the same time, I remembered a scene in some movie I once saw in which a man had the similar bloody smudge in his eye when he was about to die.
I sat at the table for breakfast across my partner with a mountainous amount of fear. As soon as he glanced at me, he stopped crunching cereal and turned pale. I asked him what was wrong and he answered that it was my eye. He looked into it for a moment then said that his eye sight became white out and couldn’t see anything. He started sweating heavily and claimed that sweat didn’t stop pouring out. He left for the bathroom in the middle of breakfast.
His reaction threw me deeper in terror. My eye with a smudge of blood must have been so horrible that he became sick. Since he’s a big fan of a TV drama ‘The Walking Dead’, he may have thought one of the zombies finally came to reality and appeared to him. The situation was reversed and he looked more ill than I was. About ten minutes later, thankfully, he felt better and resumed his cereal.
I was anxious all day long. I imagined I might fall flat at any moment. I might go unconscious or blind. Even if I kept surviving, I couldn’t go outside with this eye on my face especially because I foolishly care my appearance too much. With fear clawing hold of me, I spent the day moving slowly and quietly as if I was living in total darkness.
In the evening, my partner who had looked up my symptom on the Internet told me it was perfectly nothing wrong and would disappear by itself gradually in one to two weeks. That sent me the light from above with the angels’ choir. It was nothing! Suddenly I felt like I breathe again, and couldn’t feel any stupider. I wondered why I didn’t look up online by myself first thing in the morning. I had been dreadful all day and wasted the day just for nothing. As it turned out, all I needed was to wait for the smudge to disappear. I would pass the coming one to two weeks by donning this eye, avoiding acquaintances, trying to see as less residents as possible on the hallway of my apartment building, wearing sunglasses when eating out, and generally hiding away. While I was relieved and cheerful about that I wasn’t ill, another depressing feeling seized me as I thought about my life in hiding for the coming weeks...
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Saturday, August 18, 2018
Japanese Millennials hr609
A big open-air rock festival is held annually every summer in the small
town where I live that is enclosed by mountains. More than ten times as
many people as the town’s population visit during the few days of the
festival. People all over the country and even from overseas fill up the
train station that is usually inactive and quiet. In front of it, an
endlessly long line is formed in the heat for the shuttle bus to the
concert venue. The attendance trend has changed in recent years. While a
young attendance has been down, more and more men in their fifties and
sixties come by their own. The reason mirrors characteristics of today’s
Japanese youth. They have been getting poorer than the generation
before and the tickets and the transportation for the festival cost too
much for them. Also, they don’t like being dirty. It’s not appealing to
them to watch concerts in the rain soaking wet and getting muddy in the
open air. That attributes a less crowd on Japanese beaches, too. They
opt for a pool where they don’t get covered with sand. I’ve seen young
people’s behavior change everywhere. In restaurants, chairs and booths
are disappearing and replaced by a Japanese-style space with tatami
mats. They prefer sit directly on a tatami floor at a low table by
taking off their shoes and folding their legs. In a restaurant that has a
Western style without any tatami space, I sometimes see shameful people
who take off their shoes and sit folding their legs on a chair as if a
chair was a floor. Knives and forks are less available because they like
to use chopsticks and suck pasta by making slithering noises. In a
movie complex, less and less American movies are showing and Japanese
movies are abundant instead. To make things worse,the majority of that
small number of American movies is dubbed into Japanese, which spoils
original actors’ performances completely. Up until a decade or so ago,
almost all the foreign movies were subtitled. Since I exclusively see
American movies with subtitles, which by the way I prefer without them
but have no choice at a theater in Japan, the selection for the movie is
excruciatingly limited nowadays. I sometimes see trailers of Japanese
movies before the one I came to see and even a glimpse of it disgusts
me. A main character is always a female high-school student or a child
or an animal. Most are animated and a story is lukewarm and saccharine
without any contention. I don’t understand what is the point to spend
time and money to watch those. It seems that American movies, in which
things are destroyed, people are killing each other, lives are at stake,
emotions are exploding, are too intensive and strong for Japanese
gentle millennials. Their taste for fashion is gentle, too. They choose
somber, obscure colors with no patterns or accessories so that they look
lowly. They seem peculiar to me especially because my taste is fancy
and colorful. I like wearing clothes with bright colors and patterns and
confusingly complex accessories. Although I’m not rich, I tend to have a
glass of sparkling wine at a Western-style restaurant in a hotel. As my
favorite restaurants and shops aren’t popular anymore and have been
closed or remodeled into a cheap Japanese-style one by one, Japan has
been getting an uncomfortable country to live in for me. Well, come to
think of it, it has never been comfortable to me since my childhood. I
had thought it would have been better by the time I became a grown-up,
but it just didn’t happen. It was an illusion of a child and Japan has
treated me the same way with different people...
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Saturday, July 14, 2018
The Last Letter from My Mother hr608
My parents sold our farms, house, land that had been inherited from
generation to generation and lost everything after they had failed their
business. They moved out their hometown and started their new life in a
small apartment in a strange city. It was a huge blow to them because
my father had given up everything that he had wanted in order to inherit
them, and my mother had married my father whom she didn’t love in order
to get his family fortune. Although they had planned the similar life
as theirs for me, I refused to inherit my family by sacrificing what I
wanted to do. I chose a musician as my career and left home. That drove
them to be eaten up with enmity against me and they had done everything
they could think of to make me give up and come home. While I kept
defying their attacks for a long period of time, they lost all the
family fortune and had nothing left for me to inherit. Their battle
against me was automatically terminated. Oddly, since they moved in
their new apartment, they have become gentle to me as if they had been
different persons. Their dramatic change of attitude toward me had often
perplexed me. I had tried to explain that they became old, felt weak
and had learned a little from their failure, which was why they mended
their ways to treat me. As I hadn’t had a good relationship with them
for decades, I slightly wished we were having a new starting point to
build a better one. That was just about when I received an unexpected
letter from my mother that crushed my wish so easily. To my great
surprise, all that the letter contained was blame and reproach to me.
She just kept on criticizing me at length, complaining how much I
disappointed her, how much she bore a grudge against me, how much she
felt chagrin at me being a musician, what a bad person I was. Although
she had done innumerable cruel, heartless, thoughtless things to me over
the years, she had the audacity not to mention one word about those. At
the end of all slander, she concluded her letter by writing, “This is
the last letter from me to you.” To summarize her long letter, what she
wanted to tell me was that she didn’t want to see my face ever again and
didn’t want me to send her birthday presents or Mother’s Day gifts ever
again. She asked me not to stay in contact with her anymore. I had been
treated unfairly by her for so many times but this letter exceeded all
the spite that she had shot at me. The letter was out of blue and
shocking enough for me to wonder if she was having some kind of brain
disorder. Since I was little, she has had a strong tendency to tell an
every sort of lie from grave to transparent, and to forget about
anything inconvenient to her. For a person like her, it’s not so
unpredicted that her old brain got murky. In any case, I was deeply
shocked. I shouldn’t forget that things like sending this letter is the
norm for her and I’ve gotten used to it already. She only did what she
usually does again and I was the one who was fooled by her recent nice
gestures. But I asked myself repeatedly if it’s impossible for human
nature to be changed after all. My mother is a scorpion which ultimate
goal is to make others unhappy regardless of its own profit. The fact
that I have the same DNA in me horrifies me. A good thing is that I was
mostly raised by my late grandparents. I may have grown up to be a
decent person not to be like my mother. I will, and should, prove it by
myself with the way I live...
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Saturday, June 16, 2018
Justice Is Served hr607
The world has come to where Mr. Trump is the President of the United
States of America and a villain smiles with the joy of victory even in
the movie ‘Avengers Infinity War’. As for me, I had lived this desperate
time while I held onto hope by watching ‘Star Wars The Last Jedi’
repeatedly. In the days like that, something huge has finally occurred.
Although it is unthinkable and significant enough to be the top news of
the world, I’m sure no media reports it and I will take the honor to
proclaim the news to the whole world here. The apartment building that I
live in has a small gym for the residents. It’s called gym nominally,
but in effect, it’s a space with a couple of massage chairs, few
exercise machines most of which are outdated, a square exercise mat, and
a TV set. Although it’s not a sufficient facility as a gym, I exercise
there three or four times a week since it’s free for the residents. The
biggest problem is a combination of the TV and the exercise mat spread
in front of it. There are residents who are just watching TV lying down
on the mat without exercising. Families are watching TV with the kids
and let them play around there. They use the space as their second
living room or a playground. They almost always set the TV volume so
loud. To make things worse, Japanese TV programs are atrocious. Dramas
are actors’ shrieking only without content, game shows are babble about
nothing, and commercials are all close-up of young women. It’s nothing
but a torture to ride an exercise bike engulfed by the picture and sound
of those. Even when I exercise alone in the gym quietly without TV,
someone who comes in after me walks straight towards the TV set and
turns it on without hesitation. They don’t have minimum courtesy to ask
if it’s all right to turn it on. I think they regard it as a TV room not
a gym. To lessen my discomfort, I had started bringing my smartphone
and earphones. I have to listen to music at max volume to compensate the
loud TV. One day, a man came in when I was exercising alone. As usual,
he turned on TV and began to watch it lying on the exercise mat. That’s
the cue that I got used to now. I turned on my smartphone and began to
play music in my earphones. On that particular day, I became really
indignant at what he was doing because he was a regular and had annoyed
me with the loud TV for a hundred times. I unconsciously muttered, “How
dare you turn on TV?” The thing is, I was listening to the music at max
volume and forgot to control the volume of my own voice. I didn’t
mutter, but almost shouted the sentence. The man looked back at me with
sheer terror on his face. I was as surprised at myself as he was. Those
unpleasant gym days had been my norm for years because of the TV
watchers. The other day, a man was watching TV as usual when I came into
the gym. A familiar sight. But what happened next was completely
different from the usual. As soon as he saw me coming in, he jumped up
as if he got startled, and he turned off TV right away and left the gym.
I wondered how angry and intimidating my look was. I started riding the
bike peacefully without TV and noticed something below the TV screen.
There was a sign. I got closer to read it. It said in big letters, ‘This
TV is for an exercise video only. To watch general programs, use TV in
the lobby. Management’ A miracle happened. Someone who understands what
is right exists in this apartment building other than me. It was
literally too good to be true. The existence of my kind of person was so
hard to believe that I briefly thought that I sleepwalked to the gym
one night because of excessive anger and put the sign by myself. I
rubbed my eyes to see if it was an illusion. No. The sign was real. For
the first time in a long while, I did a pleasant exercise at the gym. It
was a refreshing, clean time in which I had all smile on my face...
Saturday, May 19, 2018
I Have Everything I Need hr606
The next morning, I hurried to the restaurant in the hotel to be in time
for its breakfast serving time. I like to have breakfast especially at
this restaurant. I can get a slight taste of an overseas travel here and
a feeling that I were outside of Japan as most guests are from foreign
countries. I glutted myself with the breakfast buffet, got back to the
room, packed, and checked out. I transferred the hotel’s free bus at the
airport to the express bus to Tokyo Disney Resort this time. I often
visit there but don’t enter the parks that are too crowded all the time.
Instead, I usually hang around the surrounding hotels and the shopping
district. This visit was no exception and I went directly into the movie
theater. The object was to see ‘Star Wars The Last Jedi’. It was the
third time to see it in the theater and the film won glory as one of my
best three movies in my lifetime so far. I had never been sold on any
Star Wars movies until I saw this particular one. They were mere
melodramas in the galaxy to me. But the one before ‘The Last Jedi’
turned the tide and this one blew me away completely. It has deepened my
emotions every time I see it. It was too touching for me to stop crying
at the very last scene, again. The story is very much like a film
‘Tomorrowland’ that is the best movie of my life. Both films tell about
hope and if ‘Tomorrowland’ was made in a Star Wars setting, it would be
‘The Last Jedi’. I’m constantly afraid of not being recognized as a
musician forever because my likings rarely agree with others. For the
person like me, it’s a big relief when a favorite movie becomes a
blockbuster. It literally gives me hope. Later on, I bought gadgets of
R2-D2 and BB-8 that respond to my voice and talk back. I’ve enjoyed
talking with them everyday. After the movie, I had a snack at a Mexican
fast-food restaurant because it had happy hour that made margarita half
price. A clerk there made a mistake for my order in a good way and gave
me one more guacamole for free. Then I had a cafe latte at a bakery cafe
in one of Disney hotels. Although the place was near empty, a cue of
customers began to form outside. It was getting longer in a matter of
minutes. It turned out that the sale time for freshly-baked croquette
sandwiches was approaching and people were waiting to get them. Japanese
people really love to stand in line for fresh food even though it’s
expensive. Their strong zest for something hot from the oven is amazing,
which I never understand. I saw the fireworks of the park from the same
shopping district for free and headed for Tokyo Station by train to
catch the bullet train home I’d booked at 35 percent off. At the
station, I got croissants and a pork bowl both at half price by a
closeout sale that were left unsold and old, and had dinner with them on
the bullet train instead of at a restaurant. All in all, my trip cost
so little for a luxury savor I could felt. Only, I was kind of blue as
the exciting trip was coming to an end now while the train was sending
me back to a sober, indifferent small town where my plain daily life
exists...
Labels:
airport,
BB-8,
BULLETTRAIN,
hotel,
Star Wars,
THE LAST JEDI,
Tokyo Disney Resort,
travel
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