Colleen Speaks Her Mind

September 12, 2003

Colleen on Colleen: What does Japan have to with it? 

T　－ So, big fuck, we live in Japan. Or, what, we could have been living in like Key West and we’re just far away? 

C　－ What’s your point?

Thursday, September 4, 2003, in a grove of evergreens at the Mihonrin Tree Park, the sign says the specimens right here are “Pinus stobus Linn,” planted 1898, and that they’re from north-eastern United States. Over there are “Picea abies Karst,” planted 1902; they’re European. It is now 1:00 o’clock. Blue sky, a few passing nimbuses. There was a rainstorm this morning, so the bench I’m sitting on is wet in spots. What do I care?  It looks and feels and smells like one of the last days of summer. Some deciduous trees at the edge of the grove are starting to turn; the sunshine is especially sparkly over there. The easy breeze makes the red, yellow, and orange leaves ripple and roll: a pleasing effect, as the dark pines in the grove, in the foreground, barely move.

Beyond the Picea abies Karst is the Ayako Miura Literature Museum. A sleeping attendant, a half-dozen cars, a taxi, and four bicycles (including mine) do nothing in the parking lot. The visitors are a mix of men and women, and not just old fogies. It’s nice to see the literature museum getting so much business. A youngish lady thirty or forty paces away is now snapping a photo of the museum, making sure to get a prime view of the grove in the background.

Returning to my bench, I find a visitor dozing three benches over. I don’t want to interrupt her, and I know I won’t, so I just sit down quietly to write. There’s just us and the sound of the kids playing in the school grounds beyond the trees on the other side of the river. There is enough distance and running water and trees and breeze to allow just enough of the happy kiddy cacophony to reach us, to add to this lovely moment. I don’t know who is in more bliss, me or the person snoozing three benches down. I’m not kidding, she really looks at peace with the moment.

I came down here hoping for a quiet, comfy spot away from the house to prepare to interview my wife Colleen about her life and her thoughts about living in Japan, and what do I find but a little piece of heaven. She is presently preparing to make shiso juice with a friend, Yumiko, who is also our neighbor and landlord.

A young man dressed in a lot of black strolls by, looking to have just completed the walking course. A solid, green pine cone falls twenty meters away to land smack dab on a bench: pretty good shot.

T　－ So, I was at the Mihonrin Tree Park by the Ayako Miura Literature Museum yesterday, as you know, preparing for this interview. One of the first things that came to mind when I got there was that you read one of Miura’s books. How’d you like it?

C　－ Shiokari Pass. I still have the book.

T　－ She was a Hokkaido native.

C　－ Yeah, from Asahikawa. It has a lot to do with Christianity coming to Hokkaido and the missionaries and the prejudice that people suffered if they wanted to be Christian.

T　－ When was the setting; when did the story take place? 

C　－ I’m going to say turn of the century. Were there trains then? 

T　－ Yeah, yeah, definitely. Was it a ...

C　－ A love story ...

T　－ A love story ...

C　－ ... with a tragic ending.

T　－ A love story with a tragic ending.

C　－ You don’t have to repeat everything I say.

T　－ Was it compelling and  did it...

C　－ Yeah, sure, it was the quote unquote page turner.

T　－ Melodramatic? 

C　－ Yeah, a little sappy.

T　－ Would you recommend that I read it.

C　－ Absolutely not.

T　－ We’ve been to the tree park a number of times, I guess usually with the boys. Can you recount any of those experiences? 

C　－ Adrian had gone on a field trip with his class, to the Mihonrin Koen and the museum there. He really wanted to show me where they went, so he and I went by ourselves one afternoon on bikes. He showed me where they walked and he showed me the playground and he did some pullovers on the bars and then he showed me the paths that they took around the forest. And then we ended up at this itsy bitsy, teeny weenie, little beach. I mean, it wasn’t more than ten feet. But it was sandy. It’s the only really sandy beach I’ve seen on the river. And he and I could just sort of squeeze in there. We had gotten onigiri (“rice balls”) at the store, and we had drinks. We spent the whole afternoon making sand castles. You can’t really see the beach from the path above, so sometimes people would come down out of the path towards the river and get to where Adrian and I were, and they’d get so surprised to see two foreigners sitting there building sand castles. Sometimes they would turn and walk away. But, one man and his daughter　－ she must have been in her twenties and he was older, of course. They － they were visiting from Tokyo, they were on a tour, and they sat and talked with us for quite a while. That was fun. Yeah, it was a very special day.

T　－ Let’s get out of the park and into the bigger Asahikawa. We’ve been living here a year and a half now (in other parts of Japan a lot longer than that, but let’s save that for later); we’ll be moving back to America, to Maine, in a half a year. What are your feelings about what we’ll be leaving behind and about what we’re getting ourselves into? 

C　－ What are we leaving behind ... I guess maybe what you’re saying, the things we’re going to miss or the things I’ll miss. Well, if we look at the kids, Zakary, his elementary school years will be left behind, and he’s going back to the States and he’s a going to be a teenager, so his whole elementary school experience － I mean third grade through sixth grade　－ has been in Japan, and it’s been safe and creative and it’s been positive; it’s been challenging for him, I think. Zakary is bright, so I think being in Japan was a perfect thing for him. I think people don’t always understand that kids in Japan have so much independence; it took me a long time to get used to all the freedom that elementary school students have. In the morning they go to school and they hang out until their teachers come to the classroom, but they’re free to come and go from classroom to classroom and visit with their friends or play in the playground. It’s not like in the States where they weren’t allowed in the classroom; they had to stay in the playground and they couldn’t be in the classroom if the teachers weren’t there. After school they come home anywhere between 2:00 and 4:00, depending if they stay after school for their cleaning responsibilities, or if they have a project they’re working on, they can stay and work on it. Their classrooms are beautiful and － they’ve been lucky, both schools have been gorgeous　－ they have views of the mountains. They love to stay ... their favorite thing to do － especially Adrian － is to stay and finish art projects.   

T　－ Zakary is the library monitor. What’s that all about? 

C　－ Every child in the school has inkai, or “school responsibility,” and they can be part of the team that works in the nurse’s office or the team that works in the library.... In his group they decide what they need to do to improve the library. Sometimes they make posters and put them around the school that say ... you know ... “Read books.”   Sometimes they do little book reviews.

T　－ So, Zakary is on the library inkai team. What’s Adrian on? 

C　－ He’s on ... chotto matte (“just a moment”) ... I had it ...

T　－ Shakai? 

C　－ Shakai, yeah, they do shakai.

T　－ Social Studies.

C　－ Demo (“but”) that’s not right. I mean, yes, but still that’s not right. They do things like “No running in the halls,” and “Wash your hands after you go to the bathroom.”  They do like a “Don’t run in the halls” campaign.

T　－ That’s like seikatsu (“daily life”) skills.

C　－ Yeah, right. Mm, Zakary, he works in the library on Thursdays at lunch time. Oh yeah, see, that’s another thing, the library is open, and kids can come and go at recess or lunch. During recess and lunch they can come and go to any classroom, any floor, or the library. Kids can go before school or during lunch to check out books. Zakary’s at the check out counter.

T　－ OK, great, fine, we’re leaving all that behind. So, what are your feelings about leaving it behind?  I mean, Adrian is going to miss a couple of years of all that good stuff.

C　－ Mm ... he’s not going to get the art and music ... and the P.E.. That’s what breaks my heart. And the freedom.

T　－ Which is ironic, I mean ... from what people outside Japan might imagine Japanese education is like, because they don’t understand it very well. The stereotype is that it’s disciplined and rigid and a basically uncreative experience, which is true in the case of junior high and high school and, as I know so well, college, but elementary school is special. Lovely speech.

C　－ Mm, it makes me sad for Adrian. But then, we’ll just make sure we sign him up for art classes when we get back. You know, I mean, we know how important it is ... and I guess the thing that really disappoints me about our kids not having music and art and P.E. and those things is I think they have learned to appreciate those skills in other students. So, some kids that are not particularly academic are outstanding in art, and they do so much art that the other kids really appreciate that aspect of them, their strong points.  If they’re not academic, they have other chances to excel ... and calligraphy... the calligraphy is ... I mean the boys don’t like it but they have an appreciation of it. They know when they look at ... if they looked at five or six calligraphy works, they would know which ones were good and why.

T　－ Any bad points to the experience?

C　－ It makes me sad that Adrian doesn’t want to go to school sometimes.

T　－ OK, then, so it’s not such a good thing we’re leaving behind.

C　－ Oh, it is, but it’s not bliss. I mean, you know, they’ve had struggles.

T　－ Are his problems because he’s a foreign kid or just because he’s ... “Individualistic Adrian”? 

C　－ I don’t know.  

T　－ You really don’t know if it’s him separate from the fact that he is the only foreign kid in his class? 

C　－ It hurts his feelings when they call him names.  

T　－ Do they call him “foreigner, foreigner” ... that kind of thing?   

C　－ No, it’s just like baka (“stupid”).  

T　－ Like “stupid head” ... that’s not so bad.

C　－ I’m just saying ... Zakary ... it wouldn’t bother Zakary, because Zakary even tells Adrian to ignore it.

T　－ (Cat's got the interviewer's tongue, so interviewee volunteers a rejoinder to an implied follow-up question.)

C　－ I’m afraid that when we go back to the States ... I mean, I’ve enjoyed staying home and being a stay-home mom, and I’m afraid that might be over for me.

T　－ So what has been special about this stay-home mom experience? 

C　－ You learn a lot. It’s like, when you’re teaching, you get a lot of instant feedback. You get a lot of warm fuzzies. You can tell if the class went well. People thank you for things: “Good job!” and.... When you’re a stay-home mom, you have to find it within yourself to believe that you’re doing the right thing.

T　－ We always compliment you.

C　－ (Brief but pronounced laughter.) No you don’t. When the house is clean, you say, “You shouldn’t clean it, because it’s going to get dirty anyway.” 

T　－ The boys always thank you for breakfast and lunch and dinner.

C　－ Never!  Anyway, you learn a lot. You learn how to be strong and to just believe what you’re doing is the right thing; in the long run that makes it feel good.

T　－ Well, OK, I think you’ve been able to knock off two birds with one stone: you’ve been able to indulge in your own interests which in many cases correspond with the needs of the household, like sewing clothes for the boys. You’ve made some beautiful clothes for them, and you love sewing, and they get to wear cool, useful clothes. There’s one. Or, gardening; you really love gardening, and we get to eat the tomatoes and lettuce and whatever ... beans and stuff you grow. And cooking; you say you don’t love cooking, but there’s obviously love in some of the dishes you make.

C　－ (Laughter followed by the gurgling sound of the transfer of the contents of a beer bottle into a mouth and down a throat).  

T　－ Let’s get out of Asahikawa, into the rest of Japan now. What has living in Japan, or maybe I should say living abroad － I don’t know － given you?  Has it added to your life?  What has it taken from you?  I guess I’m including both times we’ve lived here: from 1987-92 and from 1999 to now.

C　－ (Pensive silence) ... (pensive silence) ... (pensive silence). My self-confidence. Confidence in our family ... to know we can live in another country.

T　－ Not “live,” “thrive!”  

C　－ ... live in another country and go to school and carry on as we do. I think that gives one self-confidence. And in our family, as a unit, I think we rely in each other more than we would if we were in the States. We trust each other and we rely on each other more comfortably. It’s a good reminder of how difficult it is to get along in another country. It’s a reminder for when you go back to the States and you meet foreigners.

T　－ We don’t say “foreigners.” 

C　－ I know, we don’t. What do we say?  “People from other countries?” 

T　－ “People born in other countries.” 

C　－ “People born in other countries.”  Thank you.  

T　－ So, you’ve been here for almost ten years, and that’s all you can say for yourself?  Come on!  You’re like a super person. I mean, what has this done for you? 

C　－ I told you, it’s given me more self-confidence.

T　－ So, you’re suggesting you weren’t an especially confident person before? 

C　－ I’m a different person now. Especially going from having a full-time job to being a full-time mom, to think that I could go from being a full-time teacher to being a full-time mom and maintain my sense of self, I think is important.

T　－ Is that especially because you’ve been living in Japan or do you think you would have had an analogous sort of growth if we’d stayed in the States? You’re just more mature.

C　－ No. It would have been different. I have more time. I have more ... I mean, I have hours and hours and hours by myself here that I wouldn’t have had in the States.  

T　－ Occasionally you’ve mentioned that you don’t have many friends. Why don’t you have friends? 

C　－ Probably because I don’t speak Japanese well enough; probably because I’m different.

T　－ You’re different? 

C　－ There aren’t that many people that are forty-three that cycle and go running and ... I like to play with the kids. Like, if they go skiing, I like to ski with them. If we go to the park, I like to play baseball with everyone.

T　－ And most parents aren’t out there doing those things ... mothers, women? 

C　－ No one I’ve met.

T　－ How has your personality changed? 

C　－ I don’t know if I can explain exactly how this fits into being in Japan, but I think I am a lot more aware of presenting the role of a strong woman in front of the boys, because I think they don’t see very many strong women. And it’s important for me for them, how do I say, to know that. I know my children like me, I know my children love me, I know my children respect me, so it’s important for me for them to know that they can love and respect and get along with a strong woman.

T　－ So you’ve done that consciously? 

C　－ Absolutely.

T　－ Why?  Because you perceive most Japanese women aren’t like that, at least compared to American women, say? 

C　－ Not as outwardly strong. And strong, I don’t know if “strong” is the right word; maybe not as direct, not as outspoken. Mm. And that’s really important to me.

T　－ Do you have an example or two? 

C　－ If I disagree with you, I will absolutely say it.

T　－ Yeah, but that’s not for Zakary and Adrian’s benefit!  You’ve always been like that.

C　－ No I haven’t, no I haven’t.

T　－ Excuse me, people of Abstractville, but bullshit!  I mean, you’ve never been afraid to disagree with me.

C　－ Am I interviewing you or are you interviewing me? 

T　－ Well ... OK ... I just want you to give a truthful answer.

C　－ That is a truthful answer, and you don’t know what it takes sometimes for me to disagree with you.  

T　－ It seems kind of reflexive sometimes.

C　－ Anyway, I just want to make sure that it’s well-stated that I disagree.

T　－ (Frustrated laughter.)  You don’t have to convince me of that.

T　－ How have you changed intellectually? 

C　－ Intellectually, I think, from the time I have to listen to the radio, I am pretty up on what happens around the world.

T　－ You listen to the radio. Explanation, please.

C　－ NPR or Democracy Now or BBC.

T　－ Via the internet.

C　－ Reading books too. I’ve been able to read a lot of books I’ve wanted to read.

T　－ Are you more sensitive? 

C　－ Yes, absolutely. And then again, I can’t say if that’s from being in Japan or being older.

T　－ Sensitive to what? 

C　－ I think sensitive to my family, because I’m home and I have time to think about what people are doing and what people are thinking and how they’re going to feel when they get home. Sensitive to what it’s like to be foreign. Sensitive to what it’s like to be different. Sensitive to what it’s like to be a middle-aged woman. I have time to think about these things.

T　－ Are you more sensual? 

C　－ Yeah.

T　－ In what way? 

C　－ Because I’m not all stressed out about work all the time. Before I was working full-time, and we had two little kids, and you were getting your Ph.D.. Oh, god!

T　－ Are you a more open person? 

C　－ Absolutely.

T　－ For example? 

C　－ My world is much bigger than just going from work to home, work to home, work to home.

T　－ What do you mean bigger? 

C　－ Oh, I get to hear students ... Japanese ... Chinese ... in my Japanese class, I’m the only Westerner. I mean, how cool is that?  I’m the only Westerner. People want to know how I feel about the war in Iraq.

T　－ And you’ve got opinions.

C　－ Absolutely.

T　－ So, you’re smarter, then, not more open. How can you be more open?  You were always an open, liberal person.

C　－ My world is bigger. But who’s to say if that’s being here ...

T　－ ... or being with me ...

C　－ ... No. Or if it’s ...

T　－ ... or being with me....

C　－ It has nothing to do with you.

T　－ Thanks.

C　－ That’s my beer, Honey.  

T　－ Are you more cynical? 

C　－ No. You take care of all of that. I don’t even ever have to be cynical about anything.

T　－ That was a cynical answer.

C　－ (Something between satisfied laughter and coy giggling.) You take care of all of that. You do.

T　－ That was funny?

C　－ (Glurgh, glurgh, glurgh.)

T　－ Do you have any regrets about living in Japan? 

C　－ No. The only thing, I guess, would be not having a friend. But it takes a long time to make a friend. I know that even when we lived in Ellensburg it took two or three years to make friends. And we’ve been in each of these places in Japan for only two years, so how can I even expect that?  But, that being said, I would never not do what we did so I could have a friend.

T　－ How have your political views evolved?  Like when we were twenty-four, just before we came to Japan, from that point through the last bunch of years. Yeah, so how have your political views evolved, whether it’s being in Japan, or watching TV, or listening to the radio, or reading the newspaper? 

C　－ The biggest struggle that I came up with was the presidential election between Bush and Gore. I didn’t want to vote for Gore. I would much rather have voted for Nader. But I couldn’t bring myself to vote for Nader thinking that Bush would be elected. So, it seems like, you hear lots of times that politics is a series of compromises ... and I voted for Gore, and I’m so shocked that I did, but it helped me realize the compromises that have to be made, and a lot of people who are really liberal would argue, you don’t have to make those compromises, you don’t have to make those compromises.

T　－ So are suggesting that you may have been more idealistic before we came to Japan, way back when, and now you’re more pragmatic?  Is that reading too much into it?  I mean, you’re sort of saying compromises are important ... I’ll compromise my values a little bit ...

C　－ It depends on the situation. Like, we don’t have a car, right?  So, that’s not a compromise I’m willing to make.

T　－ So, that’s a thing since we came to Japan?  Your views of energy use have changed?  You’re a more organic, natural person now? 

C　－ No, not necessarily. I don’t think so.

T　－ Yeah, you’re more likely to advocate more organic, natural, healthy ...

C　－ That’s because I know about it.

T　－ Because of living in Japan or because you’re an intelligent person.

C　－ Because of being home, having time to think about these things.

T　－ Yeah, but there are a lot of Haus Fraus that stay at home and they don’t come to that conclusion.

C　－ I’m not talking about other people; I’m talking about me.

T　－ So, there’s nothing about Japan that’s done this to you? 

C　－ See, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s Japan, if it’s the times, or if it’s the fact that I’m stay home now. I don’t know that, because those things happened simultaneously.

T　－ How have your views of family, evolved during the time you’ve lived in Japan? 

C　－ What does Japan have to with it? 

T　－ We’ve lived here for a dozen ... ten years ... do you have the same views of family, whatever the hell that means, now that you did before we lived here?

C　－ I think that you learn ... in Japan family is really important. They live with extended family more often than Americans or other cultures do ... I don’t know how to phrase that correctly. So, I don’t know if it’s a result of that or not. Sometimes I wonder ... you know, my sister, who just finished, just got out of recovery, she’s living by herself, and my mom is living by herself. Why don’t they live together?  But I don’t know if that’s the influence of me being in Japan, or I wouldn’t even imagine that if I were in the States, right?  And when we go back, I think we’ve chosen to live nearer to family than we have. I mean, we would like to be near family. I think we’ve also learned to accept, you can’t choose your family members. So, you just learn to take them as they are and it doesn’t do you any good to be critical of them, they’re your family.

T　－ Because you’re stuck with them? 

C　－ Exactly.

T　－ So, it doesn’t matter where we lived, just far away from family for a long period of time. But then, by chance, you combine that with having lived in a country where family is an important concept. That’s sort of solidified your views of the importance of family? 

C　－ Mm, mm. Like I wouldn’t hesitate to take in sick family members.

T　－ How about, maybe forget all that, and we’re just older, and before we were just out being prodigal sons and daughters and sowing our oats and having fun and now we’re just old ... well, not that old, but...

C　－ Exactly. I mentioned that before. I mean, who’s to say if it’s because of Japan or if it’s an age thing or ...

T　－ Now I’m going to give you a list, sort of random － a word or phrase or maybe someone’s name, something like that, one at a time － and then you can respond to each one any way you want, kind of free-form and spontaneous. Don’t worry about saying something embarrassing or ugly; we can edit it out later if we don’t like it.

T　－ Lake Sanaruko.   

C　－ We used to jog around that all the time.

T　－ It was like a steam bath there half the year.

C　－ Yeah. And there was that funny little ... I remember the restaurant we went to the first time ... it was a little log cabin. We had just gotten there, and we’d decided to go out for breakfast, and we got that big, huge, fat piece of white bread with butter on it, and a salad with ...

T　－ ... disgusting dressing.

C　－ ... and  a raw egg and rice. Oh my god, we were shocked.  

T　－ And a cup of coffee the size of a thimble.

C　－ Exactly.

T　－ Racism which you’ve experienced in Japan.

C　－ They wouldn’t rent the apartment to us. They wouldn’t serve us in the restaurant. I remember, we went into a restaurant in Nagoya, and they didn’t serve us. And I don’t know if it’s ... we never called them to us. And they never came to us. So, I don’t know if it was miscommunication, you know, a cultural thing, or if it was out right discrimination. I remember being shocked to see signs on some of the stores: No foreigners allowed! 

T　－ In Nagoya. We’ve never seen that in Asahikawa.

C　－ But, they wouldn’t rent the apartment to us.

T　－ How about the asshole at the bank in Hamamatsu who wouldn’t serve you? 

C　－ Mm, yeah, because he thought I was Filipino.

T　－ Frustrations. These are spontaneous answers.

C　－ Tommy, please, you ... you know what?  You wrote these questions. You’ve been thinking about them for twenty-four hours. I never heard them.

T　－ Frustrations you’ve experienced?  Just answer the question.

C　－ Sometimes I can’t get things done because my language skills are bad.

T　－ OK, that’ll work.

T　－ Your relationship with me 

C　－ Maturing.

T　－ That was, like, diplomatic and safe.   

C　－ Maturing! 

T　－ Hot! 

C　－ Shut up.

T　－ Things that pissed you off about me 

C　－ When you get, when you want ...

T　－ This is easy.

C　－ ... to fight, you want ... you are looking for an argument.

T　－ That pisses you off? 

C　－ It cracks me up.

T　－ Well, you jump right into it.

C　－ No. When you want to go down to the worst case scenario...

T　－ OK, next...

T　－ Things that made you proud of me. Hah! 

C　－ (Sustained laughter)

T　－ Answer, please.

C　－ When you decided to take the job at Hokkaido.

T　－ Eh, why? 

C　－ Because it was a step down.

T　－ Doihit ssh!  What do you mean by that? 

C　－ Because at Nagoya it was high-power, high-stress, and Hokkaido is quieter, more normal.

T　－ So, you were proud that I could take a ...

C　－ ... step down.

T　－ ... pissy job.  

C　－ Well, you didn’t know it was going to be pissy. But, you know ... you think our lifestyle is more important ... you’re willing to make compromises with your career in order for the family to have a good lifestyle.

T　－ OK, let’s talk about me some more ...

T　－ Things that made you proud of yourself 

C　－ To think that I could be a stay-home mom. To think that the boys like having a stay-home mom ... they can appreciate it. To think that we could come to Japan and live and have a healthy family. And I think the boys are healthier for it.

T　－ And that you’re an integral part of that? 

C　－ To know that I was a part of that, sure, that makes me proud.

T　－ The sexual culture of Japan 

C　－ Oh, I think they do a good job.

T　－ Gg ... Gg ...

C　－ They’re not prudes. I think Americans are prudes. They’re a lot more open about their body functions. I don’t know what it’s like behind closed doors, but they’re a lot less prudish than we are, and I think that’s cool. I mean, the boys are totally comfortable with their bodies.

T　－ I agree. How about the little perverted comic books they have for the kids? 

C　－ It doesn’t bother me. I mean ... if you think ... yeah, I don’t know if it’s being here or not, but they’re going to see it anyway, at some point.

T　－ Better sooner than later, huh.

T　－ OK, Japanese old people 

C　－ They’re cute. Gorgeous!  Because none of them are fat, none of them are ... wait don’t say that ... “fat” ...

T　－ Why not? 

C　－ Because maybe there are some fat people in your class.

T　－ Good, I’m one of them.

C　－ They’re cute, and they work hard. And those obaachans (“grandmas”), oh man, you don’t want to get in their way; you stay outta their way. They elbow their way onto the busses, and they just go right to the front of the line. Because they put up with enough shit in their lives, they’re not going to take it anymore.  

T　－ How about the old men? 

C　－ A lot of them drink way too much. And they’re kind of “allowed to.”  But then I feel bad, though, because they work so fucking hard all their lives.

T　－ What do you think of your body?  You’ve spoken of this. You don’t look Japanese.

C　－ Mm, I feel huge.

T　－ For the audience in Abstractville, you are standard size.

C　－ Mm, but I feel huge in Japan.

T　－ What are your dimensions － this is for the audience here?  What are you, five-five? 

C　－ Five-five, a hundred and thirty pounds.

T　－ A hundred and thirty?  That sounds ... thin to me, from my perspective. OK, five-five, five-six, a hundred and thirty pounds, and you’re huge? How does that make you feel?  This is a personal question.

C　－ I don’t mind, though, I’m older:  forty-three.

T　－ That’s right, tomorrow. Happy birthday, yeh!