私はパレード愛 (I Love a Parade)

My son, if nothing else a quick study, has discovered within mere months of graduating from college that work is highly overrated, no matter where you choose to do it. I, not so quick a study, am starting to realize that Japan is maybe not as culturally different from us as I had thought.

Struggling through a typically Japanese six day work week, my son emailed to tell me of a festival he had, for the most part, missed out on because of his long hours. He admitted that it may have been somewhat of a blessing; though from a tourist's perspective, the so-called Matsuri would be thrilling in its seemingly authentic "Japanese-ness," he felt a bit unsure, as a resident, of how he was supposed to participate. This from somebody who experienced Mardi Gras as a resident of New Orleans for two years; not much mystery there -- just get shit faced, toss on some beads, and act like an idiot. I suppose he thinks things are more complicated in Japan. Or maybe just more civilized.

Unsure as to what the whole festival was about much less what his role should be, and bitter for having felt excluded, he suggested I look it up myself if I wanted details. The reliably omniscient (and cocky about it) Wikipedia was a bit skittish about its report on Japanese festivals, announcing up front in bold letters that the article might require some fact checking and rewriting. Duh. I assume that is usually the case, but I am gullible and lazy enough to just accept whatever the Wiki's tell me as gospel and repeat it to others sufficiently gullible and lazy to think I know what I am talking about.

The Wiki-failure on Japanese festivals (understandable, since apparently matsuri means festival, and how do you explain something that's called the Festival Festival?) forced me into some deeper research (meaning I had to scroll down past the first few entries from my initial Google search, dammit!) and do some serious leg work. Okay, finger work. I was on the verge of giving up, prepared to settle on the image I had already formed in my head of a gaggle of white faced geishas holding brightly colored lanterns as they shuffled by in a distinctly Japanese looking parade, but I remembered how much my son hates my ignorant stereotyping (he can be such a killjoy). So I scrolled further, looking for some greater insight, hoping I wouldn't sprout a giant blister on the tip of my finger from all the painstaking research.

Apparently, the Matsuri Festival in Himeji, Japan this past weekend involved some sort of walk from a famous shrine to somewhere else (maybe another shrine; I lost focus). I suppose the distinctly Japanese spin on the whole thing would be the light weight summer kimonos everyone would be wearing. Come to think of it, not much of a culture clash at all. What's the difference. Kimonos, beads? I'd bet a few yen that several revelers were wearing both at Chicago's gay pride parade this weekend. I am guessing many local festivals in Japan have as little to do in peoples' minds with whatever they were intended to celebrate as do many local festivals here; they are just an excuse for a community to come together, to enjoy the weather. Wear what you want; ethnicity, Visa status, or sexual orientation notwithstanding, as long as you're ready to party, let the festivities begin!

Back fat or side boobs? In any language?

My upcoming trip to Japan is daunting in terms of the number of miles I will have to travel, but the more I learn, the more I realize it's not as if I am heading to another planet. Culturally, it's probably no more alien than Wisconsin. Come to think of it (having been to a Walmart or two up there), probably a lot less so.