Not good at parties. -murakami radio-

I'm not good at a lot of things (e.g. gibier food, skyscrapers, giant beetles), but the things I'm least good at are ceremonies, speeches and parties, and when all three happen at once (and they often do), it's like a nightmare.　Of course, I'm a grown-up and I've been socialised, so if I have to, I can go to a ceremony, give a short speech and have a chat at a party like anyone else.　However, it is still something I am not good at, and if I force myself to do it, I get really tired later on and can't do my work for a while.　That is why I do my best to avoid going out to such places.　This has sometimes led me to draw righteousness, but it is the novelist's job in the first place to write quietly in a quiet place, and any other function or action is just a bonus.　The main principle of my life is that I can't be nice to everyone.　　The most important thing for a writer is the reader, and once you make up your mind to put your best face to the reader, you have to cut everything else off (sorry).
　　
I don't even attend weddings.　I used to attend them sometimes, but after I turned 30 I decided to refuse all of them, both those of my relatives and those of my friends.　If it can be logically proven that if I show up, then the rest of the marriage will go smoothly, then I'll do my best to attend, but it doesn't seem to be particularly likely, so I politely explain the situation and decline the invitation.　　The trick is to make no exceptions, which is the most gentle way of refusing that kind of invitation.　
　　
I tried to remember if I had ever attended any fun parties in my life, but unfortunately I couldn't remember any.　Instead, I can recall plenty of parties that were not enjoyable.　The parties in the literary world in particular were generally terrible.　I even thought it would have been better to be deep in a dank cave, wrestling with a giant beetle with my bare hands.

My idea of an ideal party is one with a total of ten to fifteen people, people talking in hushed voices, no one exchanging business cards, no one talking business, a string quartet playing Mozart neatly across the room, a friendly Siamese cat sleeping comfortably on the sofa, a bottle of good Pinot Noir being opened, a balcony overlooking the night sea, an amber half moon hovering above, an intelligent,the breezes are endlessly fragrant, a beautiful, intelligent middle-aged woman in a silk chiffon dress politely teaches me how to keep an ostrich - that kind of party.

"To keep mating ostriches at home, Murakami-san, you need a plot of at least 500 square metres. The fence must be two metres high.　Ostriches are long-lived animals and can live beyond 80 years oldーー."

Listening to her talk, I gradually feel that we could have an ostrich in our house.If it's that kind of party, I can go to it.　If you like, would anyone like to throw one?

Murakami this week.

I've been listening to the Derek Trucks Band's new C D a lot recently.　While walking.　Good.