In Tokyo, the city that has more stress than all the world leaders
combined, it is in an electronics shop, not the drug pusher down the
street, the bartender next door, the therapist on the television or the
wall to wall cigarette machines which line the train stations enticing
boys and girls like like street walkers at midnight. No, the
ultimate in relaxation is a chair that will make you supine, relaxed and
giving up your marriage, gambling addiction, and mother's miso soup.
If I could one have one tangible thing to bring home from my year long
stay in Japan, one of these massage chairs would be it. Not the
high-tech gadgets that promise to automatically clean your floors,
de-pollute the air in your house, the computers the size of chocolate
bars, or thousand dollar
kimonos. It only when the bell sounds with a polite but firm
reminder that the store is closing do I wake up and lament.
Staring longingly as the elevator doors close, a phrase of Shakespeare,
who also knew the tragedy of leaving the object of one's utter devotion,
comes to mind.
"Good night, good night!
Parting is such sweet sorrow."
-- From
Romeo and Juliet (Act II. - Scene 2)
space and bring home with me the one thing
that would make my life better would have to
be shipped and cost me more than a small fortune.
