Some Things are all the Same

I will never get Chrissy out of the house on time, my time that is. Her schedule and mine are opposites. I get up early; she stays up late. Until I met her, I was always twenty minutes to a half an hour early for everything. Even now, when I am by myself, twenty minutes is on time to me. Chrissy doesn’t have the same concept of time. When we arrived at the recital fifteen minutes early (don’t let Chrissy tell you differently) Katsumoto was waiting for us looking at his watch. At least I am in sync with someone.

Months ago, the first time we met Shota, Katsumoto asked if we could come to Shota’s piano recital. Katsumoto gave me the directions on Friday to the hall across the street from a train station two stops north of Kitaguchi. Since it was quicker to ride directly there, we rode our bikes slightly uphill to the Saturday afternoon show.

It may be unremarkable to say this, but recitals are exactly the same in Japan as they are in the US. However there is one exception, I really like the little suits that the little boys have to wear. Their mommas dress them in knee length britches, suits, and ties and have their hair slicked back. One kid reminded me of my cousin Jonathan when he was about five years old. I don’t know if it was his slicked down hair or just his demeanor, but as he moved around the room, he moved just like Jonathan did as a little kid.

I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but Shota thought that I was a movie star the first time he saw me. That day Shota sat silently staring at Chrissy and me in the back seat of his car. It may have been my height, my voice, or my exotic blue-grey eyes that kindled the idea, but I don’t know what it is for sure. I am the first American he has met. That day he went home with his mom and asked her questions like: “Does he own a gun? Has he shot somebody before? Has he killed someone?”

Saturday, Shota was not the same kid that I had met three months ago. It has been a while since he has been intimidated by my persona. At the recital Shota brought a couple of kids up to me to introduce them too me. I would say hello and how are you, as these little kids would stare up at me, Shota would lean over and whisper the appropriate answers in their ears.

Shota played a piece by Beethoven and sang a couple of Christmas carols. Maho, his sister played a couple of pieces as well, one by Mozart and another was a duet, “In the Mood.” Katsumoto had me tape the concert for him. He told me that the kids might only know him by the lens that he usually witnesses their lives through. He wanted to watch this concert live. He even had me deliver the bouquets of flowers to his kids. I really enjoyed being the American branch of their family.