Father – in the evening
When my father came home from work, he’d start drinking immediately—beer with dinner, then sake or whiskey with TV. He liked to watch Hollywood action films on our only TV in the living room and took no caution on the contents of the film even when my sister and I were around. He’d stare at the screen in blank expression, and carried the whiskey glass mechanically to his mouth. I often doubted he was really watching the film and attempted to change the channel when he looked dozing off. He’d get galvanized, and we’d argue over the choice of program. He enjoyed the bomb explosions and machine guns in great volume, but such mass-murderous noise agitated my antiwar mother. If my mother asked him to turn it down, depending on the amount of alcohol, he’d either oblige or snap at her.