By W.T. WIMPY HIROTO
CR2S isn’t what you’d consider a television buff. But it‘s turned on regularly, if only for the (bad) news. You’d never believe me if I told you the last time I sat in a movie theatre. So when it comes to social media stuff, it’s no surprise I’m a laggard.
While you cool people with nimble fingers and mind text and tweet and post, I somehow barely manage to communicate. I don’t have the slightest idea how # became hashtag; to me it still means number. Or a game of tic-tac-toe. And lemme tell you for sure, being eDumb is nothing to be proud of or excusable because of age; before it used to be cute, now it’s flat out embarrassing. I don’t care what excuse anyone (moi) makes, it’s better to be good at anything than bad, winning rather than losing, above instead of below.
I watched the Golden Globe awards show and follow the Oscar competition, even though not an avid cinema fan. It’s kinda like reading business news and following the stock market, a matter of knowing what’s going on. So what does CR2S do during an average day? ask inquiring readers with nothing better to ask. To be sure there is a whole lot of time to confront after a 6:30 a.m. wake-up.
Every day, like J.D. Salinger and a host of other writers I’ve read about, time is set aside to sit in front of the keyboard. And yeah, sometimes that’s it, just sitting in front of a blank screen (appropriate because often the mind is too). On a good day, I’ll have something in mind and give it a go – often the first *draft of the next “Crossroads to Somewhere” column. Sometimes the words flow, other times it’s like the L.A. River.
[*After typing out a rough first draft, a paper copy is made for proofreading. I never resume rewriting right away, even if on a roll. I let it sit for a while. That’s in case heightened emotion influenced the initial outburst; sometimes a whole day passes before the first revise. A finished product usually emerges after a third, fourth or fifth rewrite.]
All of which still leaves a whole lot of time on my hands – and butt.
So I read.
Mind you, there’s a whole lot of activity going on every day around me here at Keiro Retirement Home: A variety of exercise classes, standing, seated, shiatsu, tai chi, yoga, Paul’s originals; for the artistic-minded, origami, ceramics, calligraphy; every type of singing and dance style you can think of; classes for koto, haiku, language, crafts. And that is but a partial list, meaning there’s enough variety to keep a resident busy 24/7.
So why choose to be a hermit crab?
It’s hard to explain. And understand. Although never a gregarious dude, ole WTH was once a fairly sociable sort. Loved being among live, breathing people, no matter gender or perfume. Attend a community affair and rarely partook of food. Too busy table-hopping and making bar runs. Any gathering was a communal bonanza. Didn’t matter if it was a testimonial dinner, outdoor sporting event or funeral, as long as there were people.
Then something happened.
This hale fellow well met turned into an unintentional baleful one. Maybe age had something to do with it. Or a change in habits, like no more drinking, smoking, gambling, swearing and wearing mock turtlenecks.
It’s certainly nothing to brag about, but I can go three meals without saying a word in the dining room. But, and isn’t there always a but, YWFUSAB (Ye Who Frown Upon Such Antisocial Behavior) please to remember there are many who don’t give a hoot if I greet them or not. Not to forget, we’re talking Greta Garbo era around here!
Maybe CR2S is turning into a recluse but certainly not ascetic. Can’t be in the class of Diogenes or confined monk. Or a cloistered J.D. Salinger. [Although Japanese-wrought honesty prompts me to confess that I enjoy the company of young(er) ladies.]
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So what do I read? you ask. [Even if you didn’t.]
The L.A. Times starts my day: Page One to final obituary (continue to be amazed at the continuing number of Japanese names!). This takes at least an hour, two on Sundays, not counting sudoku, crossword and word puzzles, which are left for late-night solving. As far as magazines are concerned, Time, The New Yorker, Sports Illustrated and a beauty shop People. Where hardcover books are concerned, a holiday bonanza brought Laura Hillenbrand’s “Unbroken” and Bill O’Reilly’s “Killing Patton.” Being a cheapskate, I’m not a bestseller follower; I wait until paperback version or gifted.
So please to excuse. After such debilitating exertion, it is time … to take a nap.
W.T. Wimpy Hiroto can be reached at williamhiroto@att.net Opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily those of The Rafu Shimpo.
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