On November 1, we woke up and all remnants of Halloween had simply vanished! Sure there were a few stray chocolate wrappers caught in low-lying branches and a scattering of squished M & Ms on the street. But with Pippi around those didn't last long either, much to my chagrin. (I wonder why dogs, who are so intelligent, crave something so bad for their bodies?) Unlike Halloween, American Thanksgiving doesn't even exist here, outside of Azabu National Supermarket whose freezer case will be overflowing with Butterballs anytime now.
Last week, the blue and white lights made their annual appearance on Keyakizaka Street in Roppongi Hills. When the girls were little, we began joking that they heralded Hannukah's upcoming arrival and named them after our very own holiday. Little do the omnipresent shutterbugs know! Out in force, they aim their cell phone cameras, perfectly composing each shot of the twinkling, tree-lined street. Though ersatz, the street is fairly photogenic.
A couple of months ago, I met the fellow who authors the Roppongi Hills display every year -- imagine my surprise when he illuminated our professional interview with images of "our" lights. From his modest office in Aoyama, the designer and his staff come up with some of the city's most tasteful and innovative installations. No garish neon here. And not a pachinko parlor parody in sight. After a moment or two of contemplation, I decided not to let him in on our little secret.
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