Super Dry

Dearest Rachel –

This might be a bizarre introductory topic, but I know you would bear with me as I get started this morning. That was the beauty of our relationship, or any such relationship (I assume): we were each more than willing to hop on each other’s train of thought, and see where it took us, just for the fun of it.

With that being said, all aboard…

You might, or you might not, remember about certain trends in food and drink during the 1990s, shortly after we got out of college, got married, and had Daniel. One of the more prominent ones would probably be familiar, if I were to jog your memory; however, the one that’s come to mind recently probably won’t. At about the same time that Pepsi was coming out with its Crystal form, there was something of a trend in beers to release a ‘dry’ variety, whatever that was supposed to mean. I mean, it’s not like I drink this stuff, so I couldn’t tell you the difference between ‘dry’ and not ‘dry’ (‘wet’? Come on, all liquids are wet).

However, if you were to apply this otherwise absurd modifier in the same way as you would a different alcoholic beverage that has been using it for generations, wine, you might conclude that it had a cleaner, less sweet taste to it. Not so much sour, as such; just less sweet. Since, again, I’m no expert on the subject, I don’t know how that would be received by the drinking public. And, as it turned out, it wasn’t particularly received well in America; dry beers disappeared after only a few years – if even that.

And yet, it seems to have taken off here in Japan. When we got off the bus in Akasuka, opposite of the direction we were going (towards the Thunder Gate and all), there was a massive billboard advertising Asahi’s Super “DRY” (and yes, the quote marks and capitalization were there in the original – I honestly don’t know what any of that might mean). So clearly, it’s still quite ‘big in Japan,’ as people sometimes say about celebrities that no longer appeal to audiences here in America.

In fact, it’s so big a thing, that not too long ago a high end casual clothing line (and doesn’t that sound like a Supreme oxymoron, but it’s not the only one existence, after all) by the name SuperDry came into existence, complete with Japanese lettering alongside the English name and logos and all. Don’t know if it’s actually from Japan, to be honest, but it certainly plays up the Japanese connections. They even opened a shop back home at Woodfield, for that matter – I don’t remember if that was before or after the pandemic or your departure, but it’s there, for all that it matters to us.

Anyway, that’s my figurative introduction to a purely literal phenomenon; this is the best way to describe myself, first thing in these mornings aboard ship. Even before I ought to be waking up, the first sensation upon attaining even a modicum of consciousness is that of a mouth full of cotton.

And I’m not sure why.

I mean, sure, it’s not as if I lug a water bottle around my neck like you or Daniel whatever I go – I never liked room temperature water, and I still don’t. But it’s not as if I don’t drink plenty of the stuff while I’m on board the ship. Admittedly, the glasses they use here are considerably smaller than the ones at home, and it’s not as if I have a massive Big Gulp-sized cup full of ice sitting on my nightstand for me to sip from if I happen to wake up thirsty. But that’s a fairly recent phenomenon in its own right, so it shouldn’t really make that much of a difference.

Besides, we’re only a few stories above the water; it should be fairly humid here, compared to home. I shouldn’t be drying out so quickly. Yes, it’s chilly, and that may make a difference in a room that’s artificially heated, but shouldn’t it be no worse than home, in the final analysis?

Yet here I am, waking up thirsty, to the point of being absolutely parched.

And on top of that, I’m still a little leery of the tapwater. When we first started cruising, some twenty-five years ago, we were specifically advised not to drink from the tap. Now it’s more than possible that filtering technology has improved in all that time; and a higher-end line like this one might have made those sorts of accommodations that much sooner because it’s a high-end line, so it may well be perfectly safe nowadays to drink. But old habits die hard; especially those originally meant to keep one safe.

Besides, the vast majority of the folks on board tend to drink a lot of wine with their meals, rather than straight water. Is there something that they know that I don’t?

Or maybe they just prefer the stuff.

In any event, at least I can go for breakfast and get as much clean water (at least I hope it is) and juice as I need to refresh myself. Which I’m about to do before we head out for the day’s tour.

I’ll keep in touch, honey. For now, just keep an eye on us, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.