For most Japanese, the broiling heat of August evokes images of shaved ice, cold watermelon, chilled beer and ghosts -- all of which are supposed to add a shiver to the season.
I, however, cannot help but focus elsewhere. To me, sweltering heat means only one thing: marriage!
It was 22 short summers ago, beneath a Kyushu sun hot enough to cook birds in flight, that my wife and I were joined in matrimony. Every year around this time, I find it easy to reminisce -- not just on my own trip down the aisle but also on the general trips and snags in all Japanese weddings.