Today thegeekgene and I had to clear out an old cabinet so it could be replaced with a new cabinet. 90% of this cabinet’s contents were old photos. After the heavy stuff was dealt with, thegeekgene and I sat down and started going through the pictures, trying to establish an equation to determine the size of Mom’s glasses by way of her distance from the 70’s and wondering why, as children, we had never once been arrested for indecent exposure. I mean, if these photos are representative, we maybe wore clothes 20% of the time, at most? Where were our parents?
Then I came upon The Photo. A great stillness settled about me. thegeekgene‘s running commentary on what Dad thought he was doing with that ice cream faded to a dull buzzing somewhere beyond the walls of my mind. Suddenly I understood everything I had done for the past eight years. All my sins and obsessions were laid out neatly before me, like sweaters that need to be air-dried so they’re like on the table. Here was the foundation of all that I am.
It was a picture of me, at the age of one-and-a-half, sitting on a plastic toy horse and watching a cartoon called “Hashimoto in… Spooky-Yaki!”
I had not realized how early it had started.
I couldn’t find that exact cartoon on YouTube, but I found another one from the same series. It’s pretty cute. Apparently they were directed by a 1st-generation Japanese immigrant named Bob Kuwahara, and they’re all about the Japanese mouse screwing with the American mouse’s head.