North Korean missile launch disrupts family life.
Thursday 6 July 2006.
Yesterday our morning routine was disrupted when our six-day-a-week dose of the current NHK television novel, a slowly unfolding drama about a young pianist, was canceled.
Because the TV was busy with the war with North Korea, the statistics for which are, currently:
1. Number of atomic warheads North Korea has successfully landed on Japanese soil: zero.
2. Number of Japanese cities annihilated by North Korean bombing: zero.
3. Number of Japanese senior citizens hospitalized for panic in the aftermath of the launch of three North Korean missiles (splash!) into the ocean: zero.
By 0815, when the program was scheduled to start, my wife had already left for work. It was time for me to go upstairs to dress, and the theory was that my daughter would sit watching quietly as I did so.
But I left her to watch the crisis news instead.
That evening, my daughter damanded an onbu, a piggyback, so I marched her round the house chanting, loudly:
"We are North Korea.
Ka-boom ka-boom ka-boom ka-BOOM!
We have tanks and we have guns
Ka-boom ka-boom ka-boom ka-BOOM!"
Which my daughter enjoyed immensely.
The recent North Korean missile launches have certainly stirred people up. This is the first, the very first time since we met in 1989, that my wife has ever mentioned current affairs to me.
If a big war breaks out and goes badly for Japan then my wife will, perhaps, be pressed into military service. In which case she will learn to iron shirts.
The war still being potential rather than actual, we have decided that we will take my shirts to the drycleaners, where they will wash and press one shirt for the sum of one hundred yen, which is quite reasonable considering what things cost in Japan.
Meantime, today, I'm pleased to report that the piano program was running as per normal.
Or as normal as life now gets.