It has finally happened: the inevitable relationship phenomenon. I was at a party the other day where every one of the couples present were paired off in the kokusan onna (国産オンナ, domestic woman)-gaikokujin otoko (外国人オトコ, foreign man) combination, a sight that would have caused my ojiichan (おじいちゃん, grandfather) — who's been dead for 15 years — to spit in the depths of his grave and unleash with venom his favorite two-kanji phrase "kokujyokumonoda! (国辱ものだ, it's a humiliating insult to the nation!)."And he probably won't be the only one, as daki (唾棄, spitting in sheer disgust) was how many men of his generation chose to express their indignation. In their heyday, they aimed this invective toward the kokkaigijidō (国会議事堂, National Diet Building).

To cap it off, there was not a single nihondanji (日本男児, full-fledged, red-blooded Japanese male) present, and all the mingling (which there was plenty of, believe me) between the singles went on between gorgeous, intelligent, super-capable Japanese women and equally wonderful foreign guys from places such as Michigan or Sheffield, England.

It wasn't always like this. I can remember a time when, at parties, foreign men were a minority among Japanese males, who made up in numbers what they lacked in charm, conversation and girl-getting aggression. Too often, the "J-men" were fighting a losing battle, but at least they were there, much to the comfort of folks like myself and girlfriend Akiko — two of a dying breed who tended to nurse nationalist sentiments when it came to men. "Kokusan otoko wa dame dakedo hotto suru (国産男はだめだけどほっとする, Domestic guys are hopeless, but they're relaxing)" was Akiko's maxim, and she held that at the end of a long day, the working woman opts for that hotto (ほっと, relaxing feeling) factor no matter how glamorous the alternative.