I was directing the narration of an NHK program today, one from a series about technology and innovation. Each time, two teams try to outdo each other in solving some sort of problem. This time, we had a team of brainy college students pitted against a group of mostly old guys, professional artisans, trying to build a bridge made of wood that can weigh no more than 500 grams but can support a ton of weight. Actually, what they said was the weight of seven sumo wrestlers, and as the teams worked on the problem, their success was measured in whole and partial sumo wrestlers. It was pretty cool.
At one point the narrator was introducing the students and was supposed to say, “They declare war on their adult opponents!” but what came out was, “They declare war on their adult components!”
I don’t even want to know what they plan to do to their child components.
Many times, I have sat in the director’s chair and wept as we worked on programs about the horrific events and their aftermath in Tohoku, but for once my tears were of pure joy, the kind produced by laughter that grabs you by the belly and refuses to let go.
That was pretty cool, too.