Signs of Summer

   "Back home the first sign of summer is when we turn off the central heating," said an English neighbor at the Manor. "Here it's when we turn off the Toto." Her reference is to the toilet manufacturer rather than Dorothy's lapdog in Oz. Five years ago when former Tokyoite Liz showed me the Toto line at Gracious Home on Third Avenue I did not anticipate living with one. Now I cannot imagine life without my Toto. At Narita Airport, in Mitsukoshi depato and at every restaurant the electrically warmed Washlet with its panel of sprays and even a blowdryer welcomes all and sundry. A Niagara soundtrack masks unpleasant noises; easy to press that button by mistake when fiddling with the controls.

    Second sign of summer is the kasa (umbrella) and higasa (parasol). July is firmly Toto time off as humidity hovers at 90% and downpours swoop down in the late afternoon. Off to Odaiba for the International Book Fair at Tokyo Big Sight via the Yurikamome (blackheaded seagull) line with the crowd. Fully automated the Yurikamome flies across the Rainbow Bridge above Tokyo Bay. No uniformed drivers with white gloves to make announcements on the platform (Go chewy kudasai -- watch your step); instead commuters are treated to a bird's eye view of water traffic.

   Final sign of the season is the folding fan (hiogi) invented in nihon in the Heian Era some 1500 years ago. Paper and bamboo are an excellent cooling agent even in these automated days; men and women pack them and freely flutter them. At the Book Fair clever publishers distribute uchiwa, the nonfolding variety of fan that carries a marketing message. What a perfect omiyagi (souvenir) after hours of walking the aisles in the cavernous convention center.