Confessions of a J-salaryman

He calls himself the Analogue Man.. it’s his son who’s the technological whizz of the family. He hasn’t even opened the brand new camcorder for fear of feeling impotent after reading the instruction manual. It’s still there sitting on the shelf, taunting him. His kids could just rip off the packaging and intuitively know which buttons make the thing record, playback and rewind. This 47 year old man regrets lost youth, a time when things were simpler, when each household had only one phone, one television set. He had to sneak out to a callbox to call his girlfriends, he has no idea who his kids are calling, texting, emailing and has no control over it. At 15 years old he used to pretend to go out for a jog at sundown, when in fact he surreptitiously ran to the nearest porn vending machine to buy a girlie mag under cover of darkness to get sweaty over.. he’d sneak it into the house stuffed up his sweater. I’d never heard of these machines, but apparently they’re quite common.

Porn vending machine

Now his son could access porn easily on the net or even on his 3G phone. Recalling his own youth, he’s now on the alert for ‘wolf-men’ who may be on the prowl for his daughter. He doubts that things have changed for guys faced with a pretty girl.

It’s his wife who is a full-time mother, accountant for his trading business, cook and cleaner. He loves his family, they’re the most important thing to him, he gives thanks every day that they are safe and healthy. But he’s berated by his daughter for being ‘slobbish’ around the house, sitting in his shorts and t-shirt watching late night TV . He responds that she can shut up because it’s his TV set, and his house which he works so hard to keep running smoothly. He enjoys the outdoors, getting out of the hot and grimy city for hikes and the occasional game of golf. His children don’t share his enthusiasm for nature, they prefer shopping, cafes and bowling with their friends. He feels as if he’s the family bank teller, constantly being wheedled at for money, “C’mon Dad, you must have money, you’re the President”. He works hard, needs to decompress and like many city salarymen goes to the local izakaya after work, drinks with the lads and sometimes sleeps in his office rather than taking a cab home. “I feel great when I get my head down on the sofa in my office, I’m out like a light.. but when I wake up in the morning with a sore head and a crick in my neck I feel sad, and alone.” He’s worked for years in trading companies as somebody else’s dogsbody, now he’s building up his own business, hopes to expand, to buy a bigger house for his wife and kids, although he admits he spends so much time in the office that it’s all the same to him..

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental ;)