He Sleeps With the Fishes (?)

For those of you who didn't know, I'm a novice aquarium enthusiast.  What started off as "winning" a goldfish at the Orange County Fair a few summers ago has evolved into the 20 gallon tank above.  A lot's happened since then (rest in peace, Poseidon), but the current iteration is "Davy Jones' Locker."   Aside from functioning as some living artwork, the aquarium has been a useful tool in helping unlock some of the mysteries of the universe.  Where did we come from, and where are we headed?  What lies beyond The Glass?  Who's that giant, distorted face that appears from time to time?  I guess there's a Zen element to it.

So anyway, the other day I was showing a picture of my aquarium to my dad, meticulously detailing the fish and their characteristics:

• There's Hanza and her bullying ways.  I tried reigning in her bad behavior, but as the girl at PetSmart told me, "If she a boss, she a boss."  'Nuff said.  
• There's Junior, a descendant of two other fish I used to have who herself has gone on to deliver some new additions to the tank.  She and Hanza are somewhat of rivals.
• There's Sparky, a red little devil who's smaller than the rest, but has some real fight in him.  He ain't no punk!  
• There's Dotty, a spotted beauty who, not to be outdone by Junior, has added a lil' baby Dotty to the tank.  Dotty arrived with Sparky, so I suppose they're step-siblings at the very least.
• There's Bert, descendant of the now-departed big Bertha.
• There're The Twins, Junior's two offspring (unnamed for now as it's been bad luck for me to name offspring too early).
• There're The Tetras, six neon tetras that stick together in a school and zip around the tank together in a red and blue streak.  Think Blue Angels.  Of the sea.
• And last but not least, there're the ghost shrimp, tiny little crustaceans haunting the aquarium floor like lost spirits (it's cool--they're friendly).

My dad's response to all of this?  A deadpan, heavily-accented, "This is your girlfriend."  Period.  No question mark.  Stop.  A statement, much like you'd say, "The sky is blue" or "The square root of 49 is 7."  My dad's never been one to joke around with me, so I was a bit taken aback by his killer timing and delivery.  We both chuckled and moved on to the next topic.

But of course I couldn't help but ponder the deeper meaning in his joke.  As a Japanese person, I know that what is not said often tells just as much (if not more) than what is said.  And, also as a Japanese person, I know that we don't spill our guts out to our parents.  So, I must decipher my dad's one-liner without speaking to him directly about it.  I don't think there was any malice or ill-intent to the joke (and certainly none was taken).  Still, it's true that every joke contains a kernel of truth, and I did sense some fear/worry on his part.  Worry that he will leave this mortal plane without having held a grandchild in his arms.  Worry that his only son has taken on a shit hobby and forsaken his friends in the process; that he will die alone.  No wonder my dad's been nudging me so hard to be less of a recluse.

So there it is.  A father's worry gift-wrapped and delivered as jest.  The point is taken by the son--"Less fish; more people."  Go out there and live life.  Meet people.  Be happy.

And for Pete's sake, leave those poor fish alone.

--KM

"Troy McClure?!  You said he was dead!"  "No, what I said is that he sleeps with the fishes.  You see. . . "