It has been a very long time since I’ve taken my laptop and written a blog post in a bar. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever done so when my family was not in Japan. I also hadn’t planned on doing so tonight but that all changed at 3:30 PM when I got a text from Peter asking if the rumors were true there would be a wine night in my shed.
A wine night in my shed you may ask?
Yes, my friends and I are middle aged and above, all with nice houses and views of the ocean. Yet, those homes are also occupied by Japanese wives who do not like impromptu gatherings and as they age seem to dislike gatherings at all. If we are able to convince them to hold a little party then it suddenly becomes a big production that causes them a lot of stress. Guys can have their friends over with beer and pizza but not Japanese wives. There must be appetizers, the house must be spotless, everything must be perfect. What was intended to be a fun event becomes a massive chore and if the husband isn’t careful it could be the cause of trouble.
So, we’ve discovered that just like adolescent boys we can escape to my little shed / office / clubhouse and intoxicate ourselves in peace. The equation is simple really: just remove the Japanese spouse for the evening! It is rather hilarious: three well to do older adults huddled in a space not much larger than a half bathroom which is half office, half storage sipping pricey Napa reds and more often than not griping about how we cannot hold these gatherings in our own homes.
However, given my love of ambiance my shed is quite pleasant. The room is made cozy by a crackling fireplace glowing from an older model large screen TV gifted to me by Sadao who returned to Japan. There is an Ohio State night light which adds another soft touch to a darker corner of the room. I sit in my office chair, Peter in a small wooden rocking chair and Brandon in a portable camping chair. My space heater glows a bright red and puts off plenty of warmth. With all of these things combined the shed is transformed into a magical clubhouse just like a dusty closet would become a grand lodge when we were children.
Well, right now I’m sitting all alone in the middle of an increasingly crowded bar. I’m focused on writing this entry and I can see side looks from patrons wondering what I am doing. Am I a famous writer? Am I technology millionaire writing groundbreaking code?
No, I’m just a regular person with mediocre writing ability slowly intoxicating myself while I wait for Peter who is always late. He had asked for a wine night in the shed but wine makes me lethargic the next day and Brandon never got the OK from his wife to come out. Isn’t that something? We not only have to resort to drinking in my shed for a guys night but we have to ask permission and it wasn’t granted to Brandon tonight! So Brandon is home eating meatloaf with his family and I’m feeling buzzed after two beers waiting for Peter who is sure to be late.
The younger Asian lady to my right keeps giving me side glances. I bet she wonders what I’m writing about. Well, I’m now writing about her of course!
I can only remember writing in a bar like this twice in my life. Once was in Ikebukuro at the Hub and the second was here when my family was in Japan. Since I was going to do something out of the ordinary I decided to make it an adventure. Instead of driving then pacing myself with beer I decided to walk to to the bar. The walk takes about 30 minutes and half of it is downhill. In doing so I realized how we Americans are conditioned to drive everywhere if the location is farther than a 30 second walk. I put in my earbuds and told my wife I was going on an adventure. I then put on the best song I could think of for such an adventure which of course is “Roads Go Ever On” the 1977 version from The Hobbit.
Well, Peter has arrived so abruptly ending this post.
