Girl on the Train
:[ On the CTA the other night, coming home, the usual large group of Cubs fans came on board with their noise and smell. Earlier, as I boarded, I noticed a young Asian woman sitting in a corner seat of the car. Now, earlier this year, I understand that the Cubs have gotten a new Japanese acquirement Fukudome. So now, Fukudome Mania is sweeping across Chicago, because praying to Jesus isn’t going to get the Cubs a World Series (Nor a winning season for that matter.). Anyways, the chatter and the brewery smell got too much for me that I put on the headphones, opened John Gardener’s "Grendel" and tuned out.
One time on the train, after a game, this over-masculine fan asked me, after I mentioned that I no longer have any large interest (beyond scores) in professional sports, he asked, "How can you still count yourself a man?"
You know the type, overly manly, knows everything about sports, but is too manly to acquiesce to wearing anything with a sports logo on it, just expensive leather, silk shirt and big, huge watches and chains. They usually have the talkative sidekick (in the sports stuff and stupid hats) that regurgitates the stuff he just read on his phone and the manly guy just shakes his head going "yup" as if his sheer manliness had lead him to know it all already.
"How can you still count yourself a man?" he asked when I say I quit following pro sports. I look at him and reply, "Well, I took responsibility for the lives of my wife and children."
He said nothing to me further after that.
So when I finally reach the end of the line and get up to get off, I notice the young Asian woman still sitting there. Pretty really, light complexion and neat face. I noticed that she was staring off at something in the train. Naturally curious I follow her gaze across the car and there it is.
In Japanese culture, the swath of cloth tied around the head, called a hachimaki, is worn when getting serious about the work at hand. Most famously, worn by the samurai, a old societal class during the Edo period. (If I’m mistaken, please correct me.) It was during WWII that the wearing of the hachimaki was resurrected by the Japanese Navy along with the concept of "kamakazi" (or The Divine Wind). This especially took root in their bomber pilots, the idea of suicide fighters that devastated Pearl Harbor. They flew planes into the ships of the US Navy throughout the war. What marked them was the red Rising Sun emblazoned on the hachimaki they wore into battle.
(photo from Wiki)
Now, sitting across the way was a young obvious Cubs fan. He wore blue face paint and a white Fukudome Mania hachimaki in the style of the Kamakazi fighters. It had the Cubs logo on it surrounded by stylized Japanese script. It was then I realized that the young woman was possible Japanese because she was staring, eyes moving, reading the script on the hachimaki. On her face you could clearly, CLEARLY see a mixture of shock, sadness and disgust on her face. But she knew better to speak up for fear of "Go back to your own country."
Obviously, the Japanese are only good for overly-sexualized depictions of geishas, samurai video games, and helping the Cubs win. Leave it to the good old USA to take something deeply cultural and turn it into another commercialized, American colloquialism for you to wear to ball games. But we’re good at that, aren’t we.
:[ On the CTA the other night, coming home, the usual large group of Cubs fans came on board with their noise and smell. Earlier, as I boarded, I noticed a young Asian woman sitting in a corner seat of the car. Now, earlier this year, I understand that the Cubs have gotten a new Japanese acquirement Fukudome. So now, Fukudome Mania is sweeping across Chicago, because praying to Jesus isn’t going to get the Cubs a World Series (Nor a winning season for that matter.). Anyways, the chatter and the brewery smell got too much for me that I put on the headphones, opened John Gardener’s "Grendel" and tuned out.
One time on the train, after a game, this over-masculine fan asked me, after I mentioned that I no longer have any large interest (beyond scores) in professional sports, he asked, "How can you still count yourself a man?"
You know the type, overly manly, knows everything about sports, but is too manly to acquiesce to wearing anything with a sports logo on it, just expensive leather, silk shirt and big, huge watches and chains. They usually have the talkative sidekick (in the sports stuff and stupid hats) that regurgitates the stuff he just read on his phone and the manly guy just shakes his head going "yup" as if his sheer manliness had lead him to know it all already.
"How can you still count yourself a man?" he asked when I say I quit following pro sports. I look at him and reply, "Well, I took responsibility for the lives of my wife and children."
He said nothing to me further after that.
So when I finally reach the end of the line and get up to get off, I notice the young Asian woman still sitting there. Pretty really, light complexion and neat face. I noticed that she was staring off at something in the train. Naturally curious I follow her gaze across the car and there it is.
In Japanese culture, the swath of cloth tied around the head, called a hachimaki, is worn when getting serious about the work at hand. Most famously, worn by the samurai, a old societal class during the Edo period. (If I’m mistaken, please correct me.) It was during WWII that the wearing of the hachimaki was resurrected by the Japanese Navy along with the concept of "kamakazi" (or The Divine Wind). This especially took root in their bomber pilots, the idea of suicide fighters that devastated Pearl Harbor. They flew planes into the ships of the US Navy throughout the war. What marked them was the red Rising Sun emblazoned on the hachimaki they wore into battle.(photo from Wiki)
Now, sitting across the way was a young obvious Cubs fan. He wore blue face paint and a white Fukudome Mania hachimaki in the style of the Kamakazi fighters. It had the Cubs logo on it surrounded by stylized Japanese script. It was then I realized that the young woman was possible Japanese because she was staring, eyes moving, reading the script on the hachimaki. On her face you could clearly, CLEARLY see a mixture of shock, sadness and disgust on her face. But she knew better to speak up for fear of "Go back to your own country."
Obviously, the Japanese are only good for overly-sexualized depictions of geishas, samurai video games, and helping the Cubs win. Leave it to the good old USA to take something deeply cultural and turn it into another commercialized, American colloquialism for you to wear to ball games. But we’re good at that, aren’t we.
(photo from "guono" on flicker)
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