Featured / Yuzuru Hanyu is My Emergency Contact

I’m considering making Yuzuru Hanyu my emergency contact.

Think about it. Hospitals must work pretty hard to reach someone’s emergency contact in the case of, you know, an emergency. I think I’ll get a bracelet that says:

IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, CONTACT YUZURU HANYU

…and just leave it at that. Heck. I’ll even help by adding, “…in Sendai or Toronto.” That also makes things safer for me in case the name “Yuzuru” is more common than I think. I could include his picture as added backup, but that’s just weird. Then, in the unfortunate event that I’m struck by lightning or hit by a bus, at least I’ll have waking up to Yuzu standing over me looking confused…though also possibly pissed…to look forward to.  

And anyway, my mom informed me the other day that what I need is to find someone who (wait for it) speaks Japanese. Granted, she said this as a result of my complaining that I wasn’t learning Japanese fast enough to comprehend all the Yuzu interviews I was watching. I still made sure to point out that she was stating a known fact. I did it subtly…with a half snort-half guffaw followed by the loud exclamation, “WELL DUH!” But I don’t think she believes Yuzu and I would co-inhabit well. We were watching my favorite Yuzu video–the one where he makes hot chocolate as though diffusing a bomb–and as he carefully poured the milk into the mug as if transferring plutonium into a reactor, my mom asked, “Can you imagine if you and Yuzu lived together?” I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I already imagine Yuzu and I live together, but that’s beside the point. She went on to explain, “You would out-particular each other.” To be honest, her first statement was something to the effect of, “Just think how anal it would be.”But then even she admitted that may not have been the best choice of words. Haha, HaHa [母: “Mother” in Japanese], Haha.

Unconcerned about Yuzu and I arguing over who gets to vacuum the vacuum cleaner (which I’ve already decided would be settled by the person who didn’t get to vacuum getting to fold the triangle point on the toilet paper roll), my sister is quite keen on the idea of our cohabitation. In fact, she already considers Chansung and Yuzu to be brothers-in-law…or as she refers to them, “Bros.” I have a hard time imagining Yuzu calling anyone “Bro”. I think it’s the same reason I’m highly amused whenever I see him fist bump someone. There’s something very…American about it. Though it may also be funny because it’s often between two guys wearing quite a few sequins and gloves with frilly cuffs. That’s right. Badass figure skaters. But back to the “Bros”…I can just imagine our Fourth of July family cookouts: Chansung and Yuzu tossing the baseball back and forth (it was going to be funnier to make it a football so I could make some joke about pigskin and Chansung’s eating habits, but Yuzu really does love 野球 [baseball], and I’m determined to keep my fantasies as accurate as possible). My mom hand-crafting the charcoal briquettes, while I set up the projector for a Tokyo Ghoul marathon (Yuzu and I won the coin toss)…and my sister filming it all with her selfie cam…upside down. Later, once my mom finishes welding together the grill; Chansung, being the Korean meaty man he is, will take over the barbecuing. If we’re lucky, there will be some food left once he’s finished. If not, Yuzu will just crack some eggs on the grill for us. I’ll want mine well done, Yuz.

Even Pimsleur seems on board with this matrimonial plan. The other day they taught me one of the saddest, but perhaps most useful, sentences so far: Where is my husband? It came completely out of the blue. One minute they’re teaching me how to bargain shop and order beer (Pimsleur has a very, very different idea of what my first trip to Japan will involve) and the next minute they want to help me find my missing soulmate. Well, at least we finally agree on something, Pimsleur-先生 [teacher]. I figure it’s also the only sentence I’ll need to know if I ever go see Yuzu skate in Japan. I’ll hand the ticket taker my ticket, buy my Winnies in the Fowest 2019 T-shirt (after bartering in Japanese of course) and then start asking everyone I see, “主人はどこですか?” [Where is my husband?] And that is when having the picture of Yuzu on my emergency contact bracelet would really come in handy. I’m sure they’d usher me straight to him, no questions asked. And then there’d be that confused and possibly pissed look again. 

Maybe he’d at least sign my Winnies T-shirt…