I Lower Myself to the Floor to Be Judged －私は裁きを受けるため、ひれ伏します－

I was at a party last night.  I have something I would like to say to the other people at the party, which I have written below. 

Apology Letter After Drunken Improper Behaviour 

Yesterday I drank to excess.  I was drunk to an extreme that passed all limits.  My coarse and careless language was spoken from a state of unconsciousness.  Morning arrived and I heard several people speak of it.  I realized then what had happened.  There was no earth into which my body could sink.  My shame and horror were great.  The root cause was my small capacity to hold alcohol.  I thank you for your kindness in not condemning me for my behaviour.  When we next meet, I will apologise face to face.  But first I make this written apology.  I lower myself to the floor to be judged. 

Respectfully yours,

(insert name here) 

*

Okay, I didn’t really go to a party last night.  And I didn’t write this letter.  I read it recently and found it interesting.  The letter was discovered in a cave in China, and it was dated to the 9^th century Tang dynasty.  It was not an individual letter, but a form letter.  Government employees who drank too much could copy the letter any time they drank too much.  The text is based on a translation into English available online.  But I changed some of the language a little to try to keep it simple for non-native speakers. 

I hope you have more capacity than a poor 9^th century civil servant.

 

Put the Coffee Cup Down, Sir, and Put Your Hands in the Air －コーヒーカップを下して、手を挙げろー

I have a Japanese student who was in a band which toured Europe.  His band’s European tour manager was an Italian woman.  She recently visited Japan, and my student met her and showed her some of the sights of Tokyo. 

“How did it go with her?” I asked. 

“Good,” he said, “But she told me off.” 

“Why did she tell you off?” I asked. 

“Well,” he said, “She was annoyed that I was drinking my cappuccino incorrectly.” 

I had images of my student sucking his cappuccino through a straw, or slurping it into his mouth with chopsticks. 

“What was wrong with how you were drinking it?” I said. 

“Oh,” he said, “I was drinking it at 3pm.  She said that real Italians never drink cappuccino after 11am.  She takes Italian food and drink culture very seriously.” 

The reason that Italians only drink cappuccino in the morning is that they believe that milky coffee is bad for digestion in the afternoon.  There may be some logic to this.  But there is not enough logic to make it a strict rule, if you ask me.  Perhaps my student doesn’t have the luxury of a coffee machine that can make cappuccino in his house.  So if he wants to enjoy the drink, he has to order it whenever he finds himself in a fancy café, whatever the time. 

I can understand the reason for having a strict way of doing things in certain situations.  If you work in a nuclear power plant, say, it might be a good idea to scold people who don’t strictly follow the manual.  But coffee, really?  Isn’t how you drink it a matter of personal taste? 

The story reminded me of something my wife once told me.  When she was growing up, her mother would prepare several dishes for dinner – perhaps rice, miso soup and meat.  My wife’s mother scolded her children if they didn’t eat the several dishes little by little, switching from plate to plate.  It was not allowed to finish all of the miso soup first, for example, even if you were worried that it might go cold. 

Maybe I would have a different perspective if cappuccino were a Scottish or British drink.  Then I would feel proud of the traditional culture around drinking it.  Then I would look down on those fools who didn’t know the correct way to drink it.  I am sure that in a previous blog, for example, I laughed derisively at an American researcher who declared that the best way to enjoy a cup of tea was to add salt to it. 

I am glad I am not Italian or Japanese.  I can enjoy drinking cappuccino at 3pm without feeling guilty, and I can eat several Japanese dishes in whatever order takes my fancy.

 

In One Ear and Out the Other －片方の耳から入り、もう片方から出るー

 Yesterday my son left for school at 8 o’clock as usual. 

“Bye-bye, Daddy,” he said. 

“Bye-bye,” I said.  “Cross the road carefully.” 

I locked the door behind him. 

Twenty minutes later I started teaching an English lesson over the telephone.  As my student was talking, I could hear somebody climbing the stairs to our house.  I thought that it must be a postal delivery.  Then I heard the handle of our front door turn.  Whoever was there was trying to enter my home. 

I was only half listening to my student now, in case I had to stand up and fight off this intruder. 

In the end, I realized that it was my son coming home.  My wife let him in and I returned to my lesson.  “Has he forgotten his schoolbag or something?” I wondered. 

After the lesson was finished I found out what was going on.  Tokyo’s public schools were all closed yesterday, although it was not a public holiday generally.  My son went to his school and couldn’t understand why there was nobody else there.  Eventually he found one other student who had made the same mistake and they decided to go home. 

How did my son manage to miss the information that his school was not going to be open?  I am sure his teacher must have mentioned it.  I can just imagine my son in his class now, paying no attention at all to what his teacher was saying.  I picture him playing some game such as flicking his eraser around his desk instead of listening. 

“What did you do at school today, son?” 

“Hmmn?  Do?”

 

The Apologetic Waitress －申し訳なさそうなウェイトレスー

I recently went to a café in Tokyo with my family.  It was the first time for us to visit there, and I enjoyed some carrot cake. 

I noticed something a little bit odd about the way the waitress spoke to us.  She kept apologizing very profusely whenever she talked to us or brought us something. 

“I’m so sorry for being slow.  Here is your water.  My apologies again,” she said, even though she hadn’t been particularly slow to bring us the water. 

“Would you like that with Sauce A or with Sauce B?  I am terribly sorry, but these are the only sauces we have,” she said, even though we hadn’t expressed any dissatisfaction with the choice of sauces. 

I didn’t think much more about the waitress until she made a mistake with the order of another customer at another table. 

“Oh!” she said, “I am such a fool.  Oh, I am so sorry.  I will change it immediately.” 

She put a lot of emotion into her voice to stress how sorry she was.  Then she continued.  “The next time you come in, please scold me.  If I ever make a mistake again, please don’t hesitate to scold me.” 

The wronged customer struggled to answer this. Saying, “Uh, uh, hmmn.” 

The problem I foresee is that one day she will really make a big mistake, and it will be hard for her to make her apologies and expressions of regret any stronger.  What will she do if she spills coffee on a customer one day? 

“Oh my god.  I’ve ruined your sweater.  How can I ever be forgiven?  Pour the hot coffee on me.  I deserve it.  Just pour it all over me, I insist.”

 

Vocabulary:

To apologise profusely – to say sorry or express regret deeply or repeatedly

To scold someone – to tell someone off; to angrily or harshly point out and criticize someone for a mistake or bad behaviour

 

A Home from Home on the Train －家から離れた、電車の中の家

I don’t take the train very often any more.  I work from home, and so I don’t get to see how train etiquette is changing. 

When I did regularly take the train, it was before the age of smartphones.  So rather than spending the whole journey staring down at a phone, I generally used either to look out of the window or look at the other passengers. 

One fun oddity I occasionally got to see was the sight of a female office worker putting on her make up while she sat on a swaying seat.  It was always fun to guess whether she would be applying mascara just as the carriage lurched around a bend, and whether she would make a mess of her face. 

But I also wondered why she hadn’t just applied her make up at home, and what other elements of her morning routine she would be prepared to bring onto the train.  If the situation escalated, would I see her the next day brushing her teeth? 

According to one of my students, the situation has indeed escalated for at least one passenger on a busy train line.  My student said that on a morning commuter train, she saw an office lady who was applying hot irons to her hair.  The passengers sitting and standing around her had to be careful not to brush against the painfully hot metal. 

There used to be smoking compartments on trains.  Maybe they could be converted into “Just like home compartments”, in which busy commuters can happily pluck their eyebrows, shave, and clip their toenails?

 

Vocabulary:

(for something to) lurch – to make a sudden unsteady or uncontrolled movement, especially forwards or to the side

[eg., The cable car lurched forward when it was hit by a strong gust of wind.]

 

What I Didn’t Do During the Summer Holidays －夏休みに私がやらなかった事－

Many parents were struggling over the same problem during the summer: how to finish their child’s homework.

Judging by the stories of my students, it is quite normal for a child’s summer homework to be in fact mostly or entirely done by adults. 

One of my students is the mother of a first grade junior high school student.  She told me that she mostly wrote her son’s account of visiting a museum, her son’s tutor mostly wrote his science report, and her relative helped him with his English homework.  Unfortunately, disaster has struck for the boy.  His science report was selected as the most outstanding work in the class, and now he has to do a presentation on it to the whole school.  He should have just copied and pasted a bland summary from Chat GPT.  The tutor did a lovely Power Point presentation, and now the boy has to work out how to use Power Point and to try to understand what the presentation is all about! 

Another of my students is the mother of a first grade elementary school student.  She forgot to keep a daily diary during the summer, noting each day’s weather.  Her mother had to go on the internet and research what the weather had been like over the last few weeks. 

My forth grade son was supposed to look at the night sky over Tokyo and draw the position of various stars from his vantage point.  The trouble was that every night seemed to be cloudy.  In the end my wife had to take him to the planetarium.

 

Tales from a Life with Too Many Flowers －花があり過ぎる人生からの物語－

I recently read Mark Boyle’s book, “The Way Home: Tales from a Life Without Technology.” 

The writer wanted to live without anything containing plastic, using electricity, or made in a factory.  So he moved to a rural farm in Ireland with his girlfriend, and had no tv, computer, phone, car or electric lighting.  He wanted to do this to show that it was possible to live in a simpler way than we do in developed countries, and have a happy life without damaging the planet. 

It was interesting to read about how he learned lots of necessary skills.  He had to learn to kill farm animals by hand and prepare the meat and other products.  He collected herbs to use in tea or as remedies for colds and fevers.  He started making his own alcohol, and growing vegetables organically. 

I wasn’t surprised, though, when this man’s girlfriend left him towards the end of the book.  Living so simply might have been his passion, but most people would find such a life very limiting. 

It reminded me of a song by the Talking Heads called “(Nothing but) Flowers”.  Two lovers in the song leave human towns and industry behind for an idyllic life in nature.  Everything starts well. 

“Here we stand, like an Adam and Eve -

Waterfalls, garden of Eden;

Two fools in love, So beautiful and strong…”

 

But then the practical difficulties become apparent.

 

“We caught a rattlesnake,, Now we’ve got something for dinner…

There was a shopping mall, now it’s all covered with flowers,

If this is paradise, I wish I had a lawnmower…

I miss the honkey-tonks, Dairy Queens and 7 – 11s.”

 

Vocabulary:

idyllic – of a place, extremely peaceful and pleasant, especially a simple and natural environment

[eg., This riverside is an idyllic spot to have a picnic.]

a lawn mower – a machine for cutting grass

[eg., On a sunny Sunday afternoon in summer, you can see many people in their gardens, using a lawn mower to mow their lawns.]

a honkey-tonk – In America, a honkey-tonk is a traditional working class bar or dance hall where country music is played

[eg., I went into a honkey-tonk for some beer, music and a rowdy atmosphere]

 

 

What’s that you are burning? －燃やしているのは、なあに？－

I tell my son bedtime stories every night.  I listen to an audio book I think he might like, and then try to remember and summarise the story. 

Recently he has been enjoying listening to stories from “33 Strategies of War” by Robert Greene.  Each chapter has different anecdotes and examples from history to illustrate one strategy, such as “Know your enemy,” and “Don’t fight the last battle.” 

One strategy we talked about recently was “Burn your boats.”  When Cortez left Cuba with a small group of armed men, he was hoping to conquer the Aztec empire in what would become Mexico.  But he didn’t trust that his men would give 100 per cent effort if they had an escape route.  So after landing in dangerous territory, he deliberately destroyed the boats that had taken them there.  Now his men didn’t have the option of running away and taking the boats back to Cuba.  They had to fight and win, or else die trying. 

A non-military example of “Burn your boats,” was Dostoevsky.  When he started to feel too comfortable as a writer, he spent all of the money he had saved up.  Then he had no choice but to write and sell his writing at a fast pace, because he had no other money to fall back on. 

How does this strategy work for English learners, I wonder?  Burn Google translate, and force yourself to work out the meaning of English by yourself?

 

Back Streets or Luxury? ー裏道か、豪華さかー

My recent trip to Vietnam with my wife and 9 year old son reminded me of travelling through South-east Asia twenty years ago.  I could see at that time, and I spent about three months backpacking through Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia.  Since losing my eyesight, and also having a young child, I have taken easier holidays in Japan or in resort areas with good hotels and facilities for tourists. 

In Vietnam we stayed in three different hotels – a small, cheap hotel in Hoi An, then a more luxurious hotel in central Da Nang, then a cheaper hotel near the beach in Da Nang.  The switch from cheap hotel to luxury hotel amazed my son.  When he saw the second hotel, and we were invited to enjoy the free afternoon tea (with a chocolate doughnut), my son kept saying, “I am rich!  I have become rich!” 

The thing which reminded me of backpacking years ago was wandering around a place where people didn’t speak English, and having random encounters and experiences.  There was a banh mi, or Vietnamese style baguette restaurant just across from our hotel in Hoi An, and we decided to give it a go.  It was lovely, and much nicer than the banh mi restaurant recommended by guide books and frequented by tourists rather than locals. 

We wandered through the back streets near our hotel in Hoi An, looking for a launderette.  We found kids kicking a ball up and down a narrow street, dodged passing scooters, found a place to get our laundry done, and bought some wonderful coconut flavoured iced coffee from a street vendor. 

Things became much easier once we reached the luxury hotel in Da Nang.  The beds were bigger.  I broke a glass at our first hotel by kicking it because I was sharing a bed with my son, and sleeping with my feet next to his head, and the night stand with my glass of water.  We could all stretch out and relax in the second hotel. 

The breakfast was also a delight in the second hotel.  I tried dishes such as roast duck, sticky rice, dumplings, and pho noodles. 

But despite the greater luxury and convenience of Da Nang, my wife and I much preferred the back streets of Hoi An.

 

Hoi An Soup －ホイアンスープ

Our taxi arrived in the evening at T and T Villa, a small, three star hotel in Hoi An. 

We checked in, and walked up two flights of stairs, since there was no elevator.  The staff, seeing that I was blind, kindly asked if we would like to move to a room on the ground floor.  I said it would  be fine using the stairs – after all, there was a constant noisy beeping from car and scooter horns at ground level. 

After a short rest, we headed out into the city.  Our first task was to find a mini-mart, said to be about a ten minute walk away, so that we could buy supplies such as bottled water.  Imagine a Japanese lady helping her nine year old son along, with her blind husband tapping his cane and holding her shoulder as they make their way up unfamiliar streets.  The roads were very uneven, and there were many scooters parked on the pavement, meaning we had to constantly step into the road for stretches until the pavement became free again.  Crossing busy roads was very difficult the first few times, since there were no pedestrian traffic lights and several lanes of beeping scooters. 

But we did get used to it.  The locals were very friendly and helpful.  Sometimes a scooter would stop to block the traffic to allow my wife to get us at least half way across the road.  You could stop half way and just let the traffic pass in front and behind you until a gap on the other side became available.  At other times, local pedestrians would gesture for us to cross the road alongside them, as they zipped between the vehicles with a practiced ease. 

We made it to the mini-mart.  We got our water, some snacks, and a bottle of nep moi, a Vietnamese rice vodka.  It is about 30 per cent alcohol, and a few glasses each evening helped me sleep soundly! 

It was already getting late, so rather than look for any particular restaurant, we decided just to stop at a random restaurant that seemed to be selling noodles.  So we had our first meal in Vietnam in a pho restaurant that turned out to serve only vegetarian dishes.  I ordered something that was a light soup with noodles, vegetables and several different kinds of tofu.  It was delicious.  My wife shared a different noodle, vegetable and tofu dish with our son.  It was as nice a meal as you could hope for, and the total cost for the two dishes was 50,000 Dong.  That’s about 315 Japanese Yen or 1 Pound and 50 Pence in U.K. money. 

It was stiflingly hot and humid.  My wife said that as the lady cooking our meal was ladling vegetables and tofu into our noodle soup, a big bead of sweat was running down her face.  As the sweat reached her nose, my wife wondered if it was going to drip into our soup.  It didn’t, and she smiled as she gave us our meals. 

As we were walking back to the hotel, dodging scooters and bumps in the road, the sweat was dripping down my back too.  There were smells all around – coffee, spices and frying food everywhere.  The roads were a chaotic bustle of noises.  I felt like I was in a human soup.  And I loved it. 

As a blind person on holiday with others, I can sometimes feel quite left out.  Everyone else is sightseeing – literally looking at a beautiful view or statue or painting that I cannot see.  But on my first evening in Hoi An, I felt very much a part of the trip.  I could hear it in the bustle of life around me, smell it in the great variety of foods on offer all round, and even feel it dripping down my back.

Jumbo Questions and Jumbo Plans －ジャンボ問とジャンボ計画－

My nine year old son has finished school for the summer and is at home every day.  I usually go shopping on Friday mornings with a guide, who is a Japanese lady in her eighties.  Today I let my son join us on our trip to the supermarket, and we took him to Mr. Donut’s on the way home. 

My son gets on well with the guide, and was happily telling her about various topics that came to his mind, such as an English test he recently passed and a book he is reading about demons.  After talking about himself for quite a while, he started asking her questions.  Children can be amazingly direct.  Here are some of the questions he asked without feeling awkward: How old are you?  How old are your parents?  So how old were they when they died?  What did you study at university?  So why didn’t you go to university? 

I jumped into the conversation to stop the inquisition.  I asked my son if he was going to study something at university. 

“No,” he said.  “I’m going to leave school after junior high school.” 

“So what will you do for money?” my guide asked. 

“I’ll just win the lottery,”  said my son.  “700 million Yen on the summer jumbo lottery.” 

“700 million Yen is a lot,” said my guide.  “What would you do if you won less money, such as just one million Yen?” 

“I’d buy one million Yen’s worth of new jumbo lottery tickets,” he said.  “I only want to win 700 million Yen.” 

It is nice to have a well thought out plan for your future.

 

Play Like a Penguin －ペンギンのようにプレイするー

I read an interesting comment from the football World Cup this week.  A former striker from England, Chris Sutton, commented on Portugal’s 1 – 0 loss to Spain.  He was irritated that the Portugal manager continued to play Cristiano Ronaldo even at the age of 41. 

He said, "He's waddling around the field like a grandad, that's why Portugal are out. Cristiano Ronaldo does nothing; he did nothing. What is Roberto Martinez doing? How can you pander to a player so much?" 

His comment contains a couple of good words to talk about. 

1 – to waddle 

To waddle means to walk with short, clumsy steps, swaying the body from side to side.  The word is often used to describe the way that a duck or penguin walks. 

I like the idea of a football team playing with 10 humans and one penguin, just to confuse the opposition.  At least if his contributions on the ball were substandard, he would be able to convincingly dive in the box to win penalties. 

Example sentence:

Late into her pregnancy, she began to waddle.

 

2 – to pander to someone or something 

Pander is used negatively.  To pander to someone means to let them have what they want or indulge their weaknesses, to keep them happy or avoid upsetting them. 

In the case of Chris Sutton’s comments, he believes that the manager let Cristiano Ronaldo play, even though he was not the best option for the team, in order to please or avoid annoying the player. 

Example sentence:

The prime minister is pandering to members of his own party, rather than doing what is best for the country as a whole. 

Information, Information, Information －情報、情報、情報－

Do you want to know a secret?  Do you want to have access to hidden knowledge that no one else in the universe has? 

Winston Churchill had toast for breakfast on the day he became prime minister.  That was it.  That was the secret. 

People say that knowledge is power, but it has to be useful knowledge.  And most knowledge is useless.  You have to try to find the useful knowledge within the great sea of useless information, like a fisherman patiently catching fish. 

That seems to be the message of a short story I read yesterday, anyway.  In a sci-fi story by Stanislaw Lem, two clever robots are captured by a pirate.  The robots offer the pirate gold, but he refuses. 

“I want knowledge, not gold,” says the pirate.  “I am a university educated pirate.  So I know that real power comes from information, not pretty metal.” 

The pirate demands that the robots tell him everything that they know before he will let them go.  The robots are worried.  They know a lot of things, and it would take a very long time to tell everything to the pirate.  So they come up with a plan. 

“If it is knowledge you seek, we can make for you a gift that will keep on giving.  We can summon a demon which will scribble down secrets and forgotten or hidden information as fast as you can read it.  Only you will have access to all this information.” 

The university educated pirate agrees, and the robots summon the demon.  Then they quickly run to their spaceship and escape before disaster strikes. 

The demon does start scribbling hidden information onto an ever growing pile of paper.  It rained in Amsterdam on the 1^st of July, 1187.  Mary Queen of Scots had three pairs of blue socks.  English teacher William’s grandmother was nicknamed “Gam” because his older brother couldn’t correctly say the word “Gran” when he was a child, and the name stuck… 

And so on.  Before the pirate realizes what is happening, he is suffocating in useless information.  Soon the paper is so thick around him that he is trapped and cannot escape.  He has to spend the rest of his days consuming pointless facts. 

If you ever find yourself scrolling social media “news” feeds and reading endless headlines of celebrity gossip, perhaps you will understand how the pirate feels.

 

Becoming Britaly －イギタリアになること－

“You know, people come to Italy for all sorts of reasons, but when they stay, it's for the same two things."

"What?"

"Love and gelato.”

from “Love and Gelato” by Jenna Evans Welch

 

“You may have the universe if I may have Italy”

Giuseppe Verdi

 

I think that the U.K. is becoming Italy, and I don’t know how I feel about it. 

The news is reporting that yesterday saw a temperature of 36.7 degrees, and people in the south of Britain are currently experiencing the warmest June night ever. 

This is not the weather for traditional British cups of hot tea, and grumbling complaints about how cold it is.  It is also not good for our old houses, built to keep the heat in rather than the heat out. 

At the same time, Britain is about to get its seventh prime minister in the last ten years.  Since Brexit, we have become politically unstable and, according to many observers, ungovernable.  Britain was traditionally seen as politically conservative, boring and predictable.  It was always Italy in the past that changed prime minister almost every year. 

Are Scotland or England going to suddenly win the World Cup this year, instead of failing miserably as usual?  Will the quality of British food improve?  Will the people become more passionate and expressive of their emotions? 

I’m sure it won’t be all bad living in the new land of Britaly.

 

The Customer is Always Right? －お客さんはいつも正しい？－

I went to the supermarket this morning with a guide.  My guide helps me do my shopping, taking me around the aisles and looking for the items that I request. 

I wanted to buy some dried apricots, which I had bought before.  But this time my guide couldn’t find them in the dried fruits section. 

She turned round and said, “Hold on.  I’ll ask someone about the apricots.” 

I heard her asking someone behind me, and a young man answering. 

“I think they should be on this shelf here, if they are here at all,” he said.  “Let me see…  There are prunes, cherries, raisins.  But I don’t see any apricots.” 

My guide got a little impatient with the young man.  “Well, do you have the apricots or don’t you?  Have they been moved to another shelf?” 

The young man got a bit flustered at the criticism and then said, “You know, I don’t actually work here.  I’m just a customer.” 

It was quite embarrassing.  We had been pestering the man and getting him to search the shelves, somehow assuming that he was a staff member. 

I never did find those dried apricots.  I will have to make do with prunes instead.

 

A Shot at Glory －栄光への一撃－

“I could [have] had class.  I could [have] been a contender. I could [have] been somebody – instead of a bum, which is what I am.”

Spoken by Marlon Brando’s character in the 1954 film, “On the Waterfront”

 

What makes success?  Opportunity, certainly.  Hard work, generally.  And a little bit of luck, more often than people like to admit. 

My son’s elementary school was testing the physical prowess and endurance of its children recently.  In an endurance test, the children had to run between two points and back again before a certain time limit was reached.  The time limit got shorter and shorter as the test progressed, making the feat harder to achieve even as the kids got more tired.  As soon as the child failed to make the goal one time, the test was over and the number of completed runs the child had managed was counted up. 

From memory, my son completed only about 14 runs in the same test last year.  But he goes to a karate dojo, and they have been practicing a similar activity.  So my son was doing much better this year.  He got to twenty runs, then thirty.  He passed forty runs, then fifty.  Now he was approaching the best performers in his whole school year.  There were only two boys still ahead of him.  He tasted glory.  To be the top performer in his whole year! 

At 55 completed runs, one of my son’s shoes suddenly fell off.  We had bought him a new pair of gym shoes recently, and had bought a pair that were a little too big for him, so that he could grow into them.  The new shoes cost him his shot at glory.

There is always next year….

 

Stepping Out 一歩踏み出す

One advantage to watching a story on television, rather than watching a story being told at a theatre, is that the actors on television cannot step out of the screen and attack the viewer.  At least, as long as the character of Sadako in the Japanese horror film “Ring” is really only fictional. 

Just how different it is to watch a play was felt by an audience member in a London theatre this week.  After an emotional play about a serious topic finished, one of the actresses came back out onto the stage.  She then pointed into the front rows and complained that an audience member had been texting on his smartphone all through the play’s most dramatic and emotional scene.  The actress asked him to consider how difficult this was for the actors to see, given the effort they were putting into telling a powerful story. 

“I just hope you are a doctor and were texting something vital to save a patient’s life,” she said. 

The rest of the audience gasped and applauded the actresses criticism of the distracted texter. 

I think people should do this more often.  When my family and I had just finished our meal at a family restaurant, we went to a self service cash machine to pay the bill.  Several people were standing in front of the only machine, chatting to each other instead of putting their money in and letting the next person have access. 

We just stood quietly and waited for them to leisurely finish their conversation and eventually get round to paying.  What we should have done was step into their little bubble of reality like Sadako. 

“People… I think you will find that there is a queue forming behind you.  As much as we are all fascinated to hear about your nephew’s school grades, I think it is time for you to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING!” 

I’m not being too harsh, am I?  No, I didn’t think so.

 

A Lost Generation －失われた世代－

There was an interesting and worrying report published in the U.K. this week.  It is about how difficult it is for young people in Britain to get a job. 

Twenty years ago, the number of young people classified as “NEETs” – people not in employment, education or training – climbed to more than 100,000.  The government of the time warned that unless this changed, it might create a lost generation.  The number of young NEETs has just risen to more than 1,000,000, a massive increase.  Now 13.5 per cent of young people of working age in the U.K. are NEETs.  Six in ten of them have never had a job. 

The report says that there are many factors causing this, including a fall in the number of casual jobs, such as in bars, high street shops and restaurants which are suited to young people.  Another reason is an increase in mental illness in youngsters, which some people blame on smartphones.  Another reason given is the increase in the minimum wage that young people are entitled to, and increased rights for workers and taxes on business, making it less attractive for businesses to take a risk by hiring a young worker.  Then there is damage caused by the coronavirus pandemic and disruptions to education. 

It has always been difficult for young people to get a good and well paid job.  My older cousin told me that years ago he was given his first job by our uncle.  Our uncle owned several shops and a bar. 

“I can give you a job,” said our uncle.  “It will be tough work, but a good experience for you.” 

So my cousin took the job, working in the bar at night.  He took orders, cleaned glasses and learned how to pour drinks.  He was surprised to find that his uncle’s bar offered night entertainment to his gentleman customers, including a stripper. 

At the end of a hard first evening’s work, my cousin went to our uncle and asked for his wages.  Our uncle pointed to the lady entertainer who had taken her clothes off. 

“You got to see that for free didn’t you?  You don’t need any more wages than that.” 

My cousin quickly started looking for another job.

The Football Kid －フットボール・キッド－

Karate Sensei Kreese:

What do we study here?

Karate class (shouting):

The way of the fist, sir!

Kreese:

And what is that way?

Karate class (shouting):

Strike first; strike hard; no mercy, sir!

 

“Lesson not just karate only.  Lesson whole life.”

Mr. Miyagi

Both from the film, The Karate Kid

 

My nine year old son plays for his school football team.  They take part in competitions against teams from other schools, as well as private football clubs. 

The private clubs tend to have better players, and stricter coaches.  The school teams want to give a chance to all of the children to play, not just the best ones.  That is just as well for my son, since he is not one of the best players! 

Especially for young children, there has to be some balance between trying to win and trying to develop other life skills, such as confidence, friendship, and an appreciation of hard work.  At least that is how I see it. 

Not everyone agrees with my view, however. 

My son’s team were playing one of the strongest private club sides in the area recently.  My son’s team scored a goal against their better opponents.  Then the captain of the other team shouted, “Come on, guys!  We shouldn’t be losing goals to a team as bad as this!” 

This is where the coach of the club side should have said something like, “Hey, xx-kun!  You shouldn’t say things like that.  Don’t disrespect your opponents.” 

Instead, the coach just laughed.  I got the impression that the captain was repeating the same thing the coach had said to the team before the match.  It made me think of the coach as the nasty karate teacher, Mr. Kreese who taught the children in his dojo to compete with no mercy or sympathy for their opponent. 

I hope there is still room for teachers more like Mr. Miyagi, whose karate training methods included trying to catch a fly with a pair of chopsticks.