Fried Rice, Fried Rice, Fried Rice, Repeat －炒飯、炒飯、炒飯、繰り返し－

An American with Chinese ancestry told media this week that he has eaten at over 7,800 different Chinese restaurants, mostly in the U.S..  Mr. Chan is 72 now, and has been keeping a record of all the different Chinese restaurants he has visited since the 1960s, when he became interested in exploring his cultural heritage. 

You’ve got to admire the tenacity of Mr. Chan.  If you were to go to a different Chinese restaurant every night of the week for ten whole years, you would still not have eaten at half the number of Chinese restaurants that he has.  Would you really never once fancy some pasta, or cous cous, or sushi instead? 

And also, if your goal is to explore your Chinese heritage, and you still haven’t satisfied yourself after thousands of hours spent sitting in front of plates of fried rice and dim sum, mightn’t you be going about it the wrong way?  Perhaps Mr. Chan could have used some of the hours spent in restaurants reading Confucius and Sun Tzu, or practicing calligraphy instead. 

And I wonder what happens to a man who has had 7,800 fortune cookies?  Isn’t he tempting fate?  One day a really unlucky fortune cookie will just say, “In ten seconds you will die from an overdose of prawn crackers!” 

Good luck, Mr. Chan.  It’s nice to have a passion in life. 

Vocabulary:

to have (Chinese) ancestry – for your parents, or grandparents, or great-grandparents, etc., to have come from (China), even if you may have been born elsewhere

your cultural heritage – the culture that is passed down to you from earlier generations, such as your parents

tenacity – the property of continuing, without giving up

to fancy something – to feel like something; to have a slight desire for something

to tempt fate – for superstitious people, to act in a way that might cause a supernatural power to want to cause you harm.  For example, boasting about how lucky you are might be seen as tempting fate, since the jealous gods might want to give you bad luck instead.

 

The Fall and Rise of Yumenishiki Anko and the Sumos from Nerima －練馬出身、夢錦安子の栄枯盛衰－

My son’s nursery holds a sumo tournament every year, and it has been taking place over the last week.  The nursery students are each asked to choose a sumo name, and then they fight each other in a round robin style tournament.  They each fight two bouts a day, and if they win they get a star next to their name. 

My son’s sumo name is “Yumenishiki Anko”.  He fought as Yumenishiki last year, when he was four, and got no stars next to his name at all.  He lost every bout.  If I were a nursery teacher, I would probably set up the tournament so that every child could win at least one time.  But at this nursery, it’s a hard lesson in life. 

I didn’t want my son to lose every bout again this year, so I have been practicing sumo with him at home.  “Push, push!” I encourage, or, “Go for my shoulders.  Oh, no – I’m falling over!” 

Sadly, on the first day of the tournament, my son lost both bouts.  Then on the next day, he lost both bouts again.  He seemed quite upset. 

Then on the third day he fought against another student who had also lost every bout.  And Yumenishiki won!  He lost the other bout that day, but he came home very happy. 

“Daddy, Daddy, I won!” he said.  Then he switched language, talking to me in Japanese.  “Ore mecha yowai no ni, X-kun wo taoshita!  X-kun ga mecha mecha yowai, ne!”  In English I might translate that as, “Even though I’m dead weak, I pushed over X.  He’s dead, dead weak!” 

I feel sorry for the boy I have called “X-kun”.  It is very early in life to feel weaker than your peers. 

But Yumenishiki took great confidence from knowing that he was no longer considered the weakest.  On the next day, he won both bouts.  “Ore sugoi tsuyoi yo ne, Daddy,” he now tells me – “I’m amazingly strong, aren’t I Daddy?” 

Perhaps in a few years he will be able to beat me, even if I don’t crouch down.

 

Vocabulary:

a round robin – A style of competition in which each competitor plays every other competitor.  The football World Cup starts with a round robin section

a bout – a match, especially in some combat sports

one’s peers – one’s social equals

 

Windswept and Interesting Parenting －吹きさらしで興味深い子育て－

I recently read the autobiography of the Scottish comedian, Billy Connolly.  It is called, “Windswept and Interesting”.  Connolly recommends living your life as a windswept and interesting person, rather than as a neat and ordinary one.  If you are windswept then you look untidy after being exposed to the wind.  Perhaps your hair has been blown into a chaotic state.  For Connolly this is one sign of an interesting person. 

Connolly grew up in a working-class area of Glasgow.  He tells an interesting story about the parenting style of one of his neighbors. 

A family who lived near Connolly when he was a small boy had nine children.  In those days the children were left to play outside by themselves, or with the other children of the neighborhood. 

“I’m going to the pub for a drink,” said the father of the nine children. 

“Oh, no you’re not,” said his wife.  “Not until you bring our children in from playing outside and put them all to bed.” 

Annoyed at being delayed from going to the pub, the father goes outside and picks up the first nine children he sees, brings them into his house, and puts them all to bed.  Then he goes off for a drink.  The nine children included seven of his own children, and Billy Connolly and his sister, who just happened to be playing near the man’s house. 

When Connolly’s family went looking for him, they found two children crying outside the house.  “We can’t get in,” they wailed.  “The bed’s full of people!” 

This is a windswept and interesting style of parenting.

 

Thoughts of a Fiction 20 Per Center －フィクション小説二割さんの考え－

I heard on the news recently that in Britain 80 per cent of fiction sales are to women, and only 20 per cent to men. 

Men are just less likely to read books, and less likely to listen to audio books.  And for those men who do read, they read a higher proportion of non-fiction than women do.  I wonder why? 

Since non-fiction contains truth, and fiction contains lies, perhaps the simple answer is that women are more comfortable with lies than men are! 

Or maybe women are better at empathising than men.  To read a novel to the end, you have to care about the characters.  Maybe men just don’t care.  “So Harry Potter’s parents both died and he is an orphan.  So?  It’s a tough life.  Grow up and stop complaining!” 

I am one of the 20 per cent of fiction readers who is a man.  I have been listening to The Pickwick Papers by Charles Dickens recently.  But I have also been reading less fiction and more non-fiction as I get older.  My last two books before I started Dickens were an autobiography of a great Scottish comedian (“Windswept and Interesting”, by Billy Connolly) and a travel documentary (“Michael Palin: Around the World in 80 Days”).  I must be becoming more manly.

 

Vocabulary:

to empathise – to understand and share the feelings of others

an orphan – a child whose parents are dead

manly – having the good qualities traditionally associated with men, such as courage and strength