For once I sat and listened

I suppose the first fact I had to face was my own inconsistency.  Sometimes I enjoy listening to, and talking with people who have very different opinions, and other times I find them tedious, wind-baggish, arrogant, and a bore.  Today, the man whose opinions I was audience to was someone I liked.  That he made incredibly interesting points helped.  He also hit upon ideas that made me cringe uncomfortably.  Am I willing to accept these statements made contain more truth than not?  I let myself wander through his words wondering and knowing.

“Listen carefully because I’m going to say a lot,” and I know we’re off.  The one everyone emulates and respects in town is holding court far away from Tohoku.

“It’s simply not okay for people to pay to bus people from Fukushima to Tokyo to party.  Okay?  It’s not.”  No one else speaks.  The local legend from down south continues.

“They come down to Tokyo by the busloads.  People feel sorry for them, so they pay to take them out of Fukushima, let them get drunk first thing in the morning, and then go play pachinko all day.  You know how much money these pachinko parlor owners, these assholes, are making?”  Still, no one speaks.  We really dare not.

“I’m not saying they’re not having a rough time.  But, there are limits.  Really.  You can’t blow your government aid on pachinko, and expect me not to get pissed.”  Those of us listening are trying to figure out whether to nod, stay silent, ask a question, and not knowing the answer sneak glances at each other.

"It's not just that they play pachinko.  They want.  If you're going to live in a town destroyed by a tsunami and then go play pachinko everyday, you don't get to want.   Get off your ass and do something good.  It's not that hard.  No, I take that back.  It is.  But, that's what we Japanese are good at.  You take the easy way out?  That's it.  I hate," and here he shakes his head so vigorously I'm a bit worried, "I hate it when Japanese are weak.  We're not weak.  Look at all we've survived."  He clearly can’t contain himself in his seat anymore, grabs a pack of cigarettes, yanks one out, lights it, inhales deeply and starts pacing. 

“Look.  I lived through the war.  That war.  I was there when Tokyo was bombed.  Tokyo then looked like Tohoku now.  Except,” and here he lights another cigarette, “Except, we didn’t have insurance.  We didn’t have the government bailing us out.  We didn't have anyone sending us aid.   No, I take that back.  The yakuza guys helped.  They also helped in Kobe.  I know they're jerks but sometimes you wonder.  I won’t go into that today, though.”  Inhaling and exhaling, pacing and stopping, we follow him with our eyes still too afraid to speak.

“Shit.  I know it’s rough up there, but dammit!  Get a grip!  Pachinko?  I’m embarrassed to be Japanese if that’s what passes for Japanese these days.  Aren’t you?”  He jabs his cigarette towards one of his disciples who quickly nods.

“We’d come crawling out of our bunkers after the bombings, see nothing, except Mt. Fuji in the distance because everything between here and there was flattened.  We’d scrounge around for anything to build a make-shift shelter for the night.  No one gave us water.  No one sent us clothes.  Diapers?  Shoes?  Food?  Don’t make me laugh.  You know good these guys up in Tohoku have it?” 

I’m so uncomfortable right now that it’s hard for me to stay silent.  Lowering his tone, he then says, “I’m sick and tired of hearing ‘times are different.’  Don’t insult my intelligence.  I know times are different.  But, as a country, as a people, somewhere we got lazy.  This is a fact.  Don’t bother disagreeing with me.  I’ll beat the crap out of you.”  I don't doubt he means it.

Done with his cigarettes and pacing, he sits down again.

“I know people died.  I know life is hard there.  I’m not stupid, and I’m not a cold-hearted bastard.  I just miss the days Japanese were strong.  We’re just a bunch of whiney, spoiled brats these days.  I don’t want to be embarrassed to be Japanese.  Pachinko…..” And, with that he sighs, sort of cringes and laughs, looks around, and we’re done.  And, now.  And, now indeed.  What do I do with that?