I justify the nights in front of the television because it's simply too damn hot to be outside (true), and I need to stay current on Japanese pop culture (also true). No, I don't have much to say about Japanese television that falls into the complimentary category. I make no apologies. I am, however, relatively up to date on what passes for hip and funny in Japan. As I said, it's hot in Tokyo. I'm finding myself in front of television often and for long periods of time. All for current events and odd comedy.
Which is where I saw it. A Japanese man dresses in a high school girl's uniform on Sundays and walks the street of Harajuku. Bald except for his long, flowing white hair complimented by a similar long and flowing white beard (tied with ribbons, no less) he's hard to miss. Or so the reporter says.
He's quite a sight. What makes him newsworthy is the legend (of the urban type) people who have their photo taken with this man dressed as a teenage girl receive good luck. This middle-aged man in cosplay drag is a lucky charm? Japanese youth swear by him.
Hence his appearance on Japanese television. This is where it gets interesting because, let's face it, the story up to this point isn't sufficiently ridiculous. He's asked a series of questions.
"Are you a cross-dresser?"
"Are you doing this to express something in yourself?"
"Would you consider yourself shy?"
Yes, yes, and yes.
Except for the last one. He says he used to be shy but through this outfit can release his true self. It is at this point he releases the zinger. Asked about his wedding ring he shares the fact he married at 27 and divorced at 28. This was his shy phase. Is he married? He smiles. Yes. He's in a two-dimensional marriage.
The comedians surrounding him on this particular show are confused. No one comes out and asks, so he volunteers. This ring is to signify his marriage to an anime character. A famous cartoon girl whom I don't recognize but the comedians seem to know. There's a mixture of gasps and laughter and confusion as to how one goes about marrying an anime character but this is the point I stop listening. There are limits to my desire to follow trivia and this man crossed a line.
It must be an age thing. I don't get this marriage-to-a-cartoon-character phenomenon. How does this work? Aside from the obvious, of course. What are the rules and who defines them? Your partner lives in your laptop and smart phone. Seriously. How does this work?
Should we be concerned? Did people in the 1800s "marry" characters in literature? Perhaps this isn't new and I'm clueless on romantic fiction?
This is what I get (evidently) when I hole up indoors and refuse to venture out into the heat. Now I don't know what to do.
Monday, August 10, 2015
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Thoughts on the Very Unlikely Candidate
This is what happens when I get sick. I binge-watch all the shows I've ignored to date, I type strange and long-winded e-mails saying a whole lot of nothing to friends all over the world, and I click on random but possibly interesting articles I see posted online. This blog post is about the random click that introduced me (virtually) to a most unlikely candidate running for office: Mr. Ueno Ryutaro of Chiba.
He calls himself society's trash. He calls himself a piece of shit. He is open: how he dropped out of school and society at 15, how he's a shut-in, how it's not anyone's fault but his, and that he's 25 years old. He has no qualifications. He's never had a job. He's never been in love. But, he wants to be a city council member.
Interesting.
I read his manifesto. He's an articulate young man. He makes good points. He says Japan needs to become a country where people from all walks of life are welcome. He talks about the rights of those who are asexual and now I'm really impressed. (LGBTQ rights are one thing. To expand the list to asexual people is a bit of a coup, I think. All this from a 25-year old!)
Part of the problem, why this strikes such a nerve right now is that part of the binge-watching of shows has included the third season of House of Cards. Which, by the way, if a very depressing show to watch when you can't breathe through your nose. And, Mrs. Clinton is running for president. My friends will be for or against her disagreeing politically but agreeing vehemently they're right and all others are wrong. I don't think I'm particularly fond of elections. They seem to bring out the worst in people.
But, this Mr. Ueno, the 25-year old self-proclaimed shut-in, trash, piece of shit wants to be on city council. What are we to think? What makes him qualified (he's not, he says), and if he's not qualified why should anyone vote for him? Is it possible that watching the world go by for 10 years, only from the point of view of television, library books, and the internet gives him unique insight into Japan the rest of us miss? Maybe, having time on your hands is really the best way to form ideas--in his case a manifesto--clear in thought and well defined. Do we need more idealists in office instead of the same old system that churns out political dynasties that preach the same message year in, year out?
Mr. Ueno says in his manifesto that Japan should be a country people with one-letter names and people with names in katakana can live together happily. One letter names refer to people who are Chinese and Korean, and katakana names mean the rest of us foreigners. Thank you, Mr. Ueno. These are kind words. And, I do agree. I would like to live together with my friends (and others) in Japan without discrimination or indifference.
Can a shut-in be a politician? I'm not addressing the question whether he will need to actually leave his home to go to city council meetings (will he attend virtually? will this be allowed?). My focus is on whether cut-throat politics like those of Frank Underwood are really the only way to get things done in this world, or whether perhaps an idealistic man who hasn't left his home in 10 years should be given a chance to speak on behalf of those he feels have less of a voice. I don't get to vote in Japan so it's all moot in the end. That said, I'm intrigued.
He calls himself society's trash. He calls himself a piece of shit. He is open: how he dropped out of school and society at 15, how he's a shut-in, how it's not anyone's fault but his, and that he's 25 years old. He has no qualifications. He's never had a job. He's never been in love. But, he wants to be a city council member.
Interesting.
I read his manifesto. He's an articulate young man. He makes good points. He says Japan needs to become a country where people from all walks of life are welcome. He talks about the rights of those who are asexual and now I'm really impressed. (LGBTQ rights are one thing. To expand the list to asexual people is a bit of a coup, I think. All this from a 25-year old!)
Part of the problem, why this strikes such a nerve right now is that part of the binge-watching of shows has included the third season of House of Cards. Which, by the way, if a very depressing show to watch when you can't breathe through your nose. And, Mrs. Clinton is running for president. My friends will be for or against her disagreeing politically but agreeing vehemently they're right and all others are wrong. I don't think I'm particularly fond of elections. They seem to bring out the worst in people.
But, this Mr. Ueno, the 25-year old self-proclaimed shut-in, trash, piece of shit wants to be on city council. What are we to think? What makes him qualified (he's not, he says), and if he's not qualified why should anyone vote for him? Is it possible that watching the world go by for 10 years, only from the point of view of television, library books, and the internet gives him unique insight into Japan the rest of us miss? Maybe, having time on your hands is really the best way to form ideas--in his case a manifesto--clear in thought and well defined. Do we need more idealists in office instead of the same old system that churns out political dynasties that preach the same message year in, year out?
Mr. Ueno says in his manifesto that Japan should be a country people with one-letter names and people with names in katakana can live together happily. One letter names refer to people who are Chinese and Korean, and katakana names mean the rest of us foreigners. Thank you, Mr. Ueno. These are kind words. And, I do agree. I would like to live together with my friends (and others) in Japan without discrimination or indifference.
Can a shut-in be a politician? I'm not addressing the question whether he will need to actually leave his home to go to city council meetings (will he attend virtually? will this be allowed?). My focus is on whether cut-throat politics like those of Frank Underwood are really the only way to get things done in this world, or whether perhaps an idealistic man who hasn't left his home in 10 years should be given a chance to speak on behalf of those he feels have less of a voice. I don't get to vote in Japan so it's all moot in the end. That said, I'm intrigued.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
On Being Busy and the Art of Saying "No" in Japan and a Few Thoughts on "Emoji"
March is always a crazy month. The end of the academic year for schools is also the end of the fiscal year for government organizations and even some companies. We tie up loose ends. Students graduate. New hires arrive in April needing to be trained. Government and corporate departments shift personnel leaving many with new bosses, subordinates, and colleagues in April. Before April there is March. Wrap everything up and move on.
Which is why we're all busy. Which is why it takes days to respond to a simple e-mail or a phone call. Many of us in Japan go into complete triage mode. The loud ones, demanding an answer get it. Everyone else? Pick a number, sit, and wait.
I abhor the "I've been busy" line as an excuse. People say it's true and it might be, but I find it sloppy. I see "busy" as an issue of priorities. Let's face it: You DON'T rank. When e-mails and phone calls are blown off, it means your request is less important than that of another.
Which is why I'm struggling this month. I'm truly busy. I get up early and stay up late. I go to meetings and then come back to pound my laptop keys. Not everyone's e-mail gets a reply that same day. I'm sorry. But, clearly not sorry enough to get up earlier or stay up later. It's about priorities. I triage. I'll reply tomorrow. I use the same line others use on me. I hate March.
I contemplate this now because it's March and I find it almost comical and ridiculous how much I'm working, but more so because I've taken another assignment. As of next month I will continue my work with Rikuzentakata City Hall for one more year. I vowed not to. I swore I needed to focus on me. I changed my mind. I can and will do this for one more year. It's the right thing to do.
But, I reserve the right to say "NO". I've not done this until now. You needed something? I obliged. You wanted something done? I did it. Those days are gone. Part of recovery from any crisis--medical, personal, environmental, natural--requires figuring it out on your own. Long-term dependency is not the answer.
City hall will not be accustomed to this new me. So then, the inquiring minds ask, how does one go about saying "no" in Japan? Do people just say it? Refuse? Shake their heads?
No.
The commonly understood method of turning someone down in Japan is to suck air through your teeth, cock your head, and say something, "Yeah, that's difficult." That's a cue. That's an incredibly good indication you won't get what you want. I'm fully prepared to adopt this into my répertoire of phrases. Bring it on. Sorry people. To quote the Rolling Stones, "You can't always get what you want." I'm hoping my "Hmmm, difficult" utterings will help people I work with to realize this is how "you get what you need."
Side note: I woke up to a series of Facebook texts this morning from an ex-boyfriend from high school.
"Are you coming to our high school reunion? If not, why?"
It takes a unique group of students from a high school to be the only class in the past 30-plus years to have NOT held a class reunion. It takes an even more unique group of students to be this way when clearly, very clearly, our class was the coolest the school had and has ever seen.
We are busy. That's the truth. The rag-tag gang of boarding school friends who live in Tokyo--all men but me--cannot find the time to gather for a drink or a meal because one of us (usually more than one) is somewhere else. As in South Korea, or Singapore, or San Francisco. On this, I renege my point from earlier. We're not blowing each other off. We simply are too busy and we prefer to meet as a group. That means we're willing to wait until all can gather.
With the pressure from the one pushing us all to attend our class reunion, e-mails, LINE messages, and phone calls flew around the world throughout our day. None of the men in my gang are subtle. We all revert to our 17-year old selves when we talk. All rules I apply to other men in personal and professional settings fly out the window with these guys. They're jerks and I absolutely love them.
Our LINE messages today were peppered with emoji, art posing as punctuation marks, words, and used primarily to make a point. I am not someone who finishes my sentence with a smiley face. With these guys, I search through the emoji options available on my iPhone to see how to put them down, build myself up, show how grossed out I am by their teenage antics. We are silly adults, resorting to using emoji for unicorns, bottles of wine, and hot tubs. (But, we're still the coolest class ever.)
Perhaps a rambling post without any real point. Then again. Then again.
Which is why we're all busy. Which is why it takes days to respond to a simple e-mail or a phone call. Many of us in Japan go into complete triage mode. The loud ones, demanding an answer get it. Everyone else? Pick a number, sit, and wait.
I abhor the "I've been busy" line as an excuse. People say it's true and it might be, but I find it sloppy. I see "busy" as an issue of priorities. Let's face it: You DON'T rank. When e-mails and phone calls are blown off, it means your request is less important than that of another.
Which is why I'm struggling this month. I'm truly busy. I get up early and stay up late. I go to meetings and then come back to pound my laptop keys. Not everyone's e-mail gets a reply that same day. I'm sorry. But, clearly not sorry enough to get up earlier or stay up later. It's about priorities. I triage. I'll reply tomorrow. I use the same line others use on me. I hate March.
I contemplate this now because it's March and I find it almost comical and ridiculous how much I'm working, but more so because I've taken another assignment. As of next month I will continue my work with Rikuzentakata City Hall for one more year. I vowed not to. I swore I needed to focus on me. I changed my mind. I can and will do this for one more year. It's the right thing to do.
But, I reserve the right to say "NO". I've not done this until now. You needed something? I obliged. You wanted something done? I did it. Those days are gone. Part of recovery from any crisis--medical, personal, environmental, natural--requires figuring it out on your own. Long-term dependency is not the answer.
City hall will not be accustomed to this new me. So then, the inquiring minds ask, how does one go about saying "no" in Japan? Do people just say it? Refuse? Shake their heads?
No.
The commonly understood method of turning someone down in Japan is to suck air through your teeth, cock your head, and say something, "Yeah, that's difficult." That's a cue. That's an incredibly good indication you won't get what you want. I'm fully prepared to adopt this into my répertoire of phrases. Bring it on. Sorry people. To quote the Rolling Stones, "You can't always get what you want." I'm hoping my "Hmmm, difficult" utterings will help people I work with to realize this is how "you get what you need."
Side note: I woke up to a series of Facebook texts this morning from an ex-boyfriend from high school.
"Are you coming to our high school reunion? If not, why?"
It takes a unique group of students from a high school to be the only class in the past 30-plus years to have NOT held a class reunion. It takes an even more unique group of students to be this way when clearly, very clearly, our class was the coolest the school had and has ever seen.
We are busy. That's the truth. The rag-tag gang of boarding school friends who live in Tokyo--all men but me--cannot find the time to gather for a drink or a meal because one of us (usually more than one) is somewhere else. As in South Korea, or Singapore, or San Francisco. On this, I renege my point from earlier. We're not blowing each other off. We simply are too busy and we prefer to meet as a group. That means we're willing to wait until all can gather.
With the pressure from the one pushing us all to attend our class reunion, e-mails, LINE messages, and phone calls flew around the world throughout our day. None of the men in my gang are subtle. We all revert to our 17-year old selves when we talk. All rules I apply to other men in personal and professional settings fly out the window with these guys. They're jerks and I absolutely love them.
Our LINE messages today were peppered with emoji, art posing as punctuation marks, words, and used primarily to make a point. I am not someone who finishes my sentence with a smiley face. With these guys, I search through the emoji options available on my iPhone to see how to put them down, build myself up, show how grossed out I am by their teenage antics. We are silly adults, resorting to using emoji for unicorns, bottles of wine, and hot tubs. (But, we're still the coolest class ever.)
Perhaps a rambling post without any real point. Then again. Then again.
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