塩江中学校創立50周年記念挙式 – Shionoe Middle School 50th Anniversary Ceremony

A little while back, we had an assembly on a Sunday in honor of the school’s 50th anniversary.  Of course, there was nothing I could have wanted to do more than wake up early on a weekend and go in for a full day of work to appreciate this.  There isn’t too much to say about this event, though the historic nature of it merited at least a quick passage.

The event was terribly boring and a total misuse of time. The only amusement at all came entirely at the expense of those in attendance; some archaic man got up and delivered one of the worst speeches ever to a crew of people already weary to be waste their time.  What started off with a passable joke and a few followup punches, turned into the most enduring dirge to ever echo throughout that gymnasium.  He was speaking about the culture of the town well before my birth, and the people, and this & that, and absolutely nothing entirely.  His audience went from old people, perhaps fellow classmates, to old people fast asleep.  It’s not taken as offensive to just nod off while someone is giving a speech as it might be elsewhere.  I was watching the vice principal nearly falling out of his chair.  So whether he was offended or not, I don’t know, but when the entire audience before you has shifted in to deep slump/sleep, you have to realize that no one is enjoying themselves and the probable cause are the doldrums that are exuding from your face.  I couldn’t help but snicker to myself, as I was basking in their misery.  My presence was not only mandatory, but the speech was certainly not written for me.  I didn’t really know what this guy was saying in the first place, but unless I wholeheartedly focused the attention he was incapable of capturing, it was nothing but syllables to me.  I felt the worst for the students sitting right at the front of the gymnasium, not only well within his field of view, but they also bore the responsibility to sit properly and force their attention – a Herculean task.  50 minutes were required to reemerge from the prosaic plethora of pointlessness, where it was only by reveling in the visible agony of all in attendance that I was able to persevere.

Safe navigation through the mental siege allowed me back into the sunlight for the unveiling of the monument.  This gleaming boulder was meant as both a monument for those that survived the ceremony, and a memorial for those that didn’t.  It was unveiled by a few bigwigs tugging on ropes with their white gloved hands.  At this, the event had officially concluded, and people could return to their normal lives.

Here was the rock, bearing the first verse of the school song.

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