Untitled (Final Keys)
There was a video game that I played over and over when I was a kid. When you get close to the end, you get a key called “FINAL KEY”, which can open all the locked doors in the world. I grew up in a place where there is no need for children to carry keys. For me, anything that resembles a key was exhilarating thing to carry.
One of them was the openers for SPAM cans, which comes with the cans. I would carry a bunch of them in my hand, feeling rather important to own keys. They had sharp edges and I would get scratches in my palm, because I held them too tight. Don’t do that, my mom would scold me. But I don’t remember the pain. It didn’t hurt, the stupid idea of owning keys excelled the pain.
Since I moved back to Japan, I often use pork luncheon meat for cooking. It is a quite popular ingredient in Okinawan cooking, since it was brought to the islands during the post-war occupation by theAmericans. One day, I was using the canned meat and remembered that It once hurt my hand. I tried to hold it tight but then got scared. I didn’t want to hurt myself, and now I have had so many keys in my life and they gets heavy. But still, a new key always give me a juvenile feeling I had many many years ago.