One note samba
Our first dress rehearsal ended about an hour ago. Great to see it, but as always I can’t tell you a single line about the content. You will see it anyway on August 5th if you choose to see the Olympic Opening Ceremonies on a Friday night or morning depending on where you live.
I don’t actually know how I ended up in this ceremonies production again, but I don’t mind. I enjoy every single minute. Although I have to do all kinds of things I wouldn’t dream of otherwise. I might have even sometimes declared those famous words: Never again. But everybody who knows me, knows I don’t mean it. Really.
Apart from inventing things from the bin, I’m working mainly with the international television signal from the games. The Finnish crew has done a great job throughout the years both with athletics coverage in summer games as the cross country skiing in winter games. Apart from that we have also worked with the Opening and Closing Ceremonies of summer games since 2004 in Athens. This time we have a crew with cameramen, vision operators, vip-director and spotters. And me – trying to keep the lot informed and content to provide the best Yle-quality you can get. After all, it’s our work you can see, when you watch the Track and field from Olympics! Your tv-channel might send it, but the coverage was made by us. Boy, am I proud of it!
This project is also recycling in its best. The people here at the games are mostly old buddies, from way back. They gather here, to recycle the ideas, and themselves. Even the show! And even if I’ve done this recycling several times, still I get surprised of many things. I also tend to forget the evident. Like in this case: where to find the laundry? How to remember NOT to drink the tapped water? Where to put the toilet paper in the restroom? Why you should never take your camera to the stadium?
Which gives a perfectly awkward transition to the uniform that we are obliged to wear during the games. I’ve had numerous struggles with the clothing before, but never have I had such a passionate feeling about something totally unfit for me. And I do mean the colors.
Since my conscious doesn’t give me a permission to insult my Finnish friends, this picture has a man in mustard pants who happens to be a Japanese. No offence against Japanese. He just dropped into the picture.
The mustard pants. What a glorious color, paired with blue shirts! I know. Please, don’t get offended. We should never argue about colors. Everybody has their own favorite color and it’s always the right one. But then, this is my writing and my story. And mustardy shade is my choice of the most awkward color I know. So now you know that. For obvious reasons recycling will be the action here too.
The picture has though another interesting feature. The shoes by the stairs. Isn’t it just charming that the Japanese, who I admire a lot – it’s not their fault they have to wear mustard pants – they actually leave their shoes out, when going in to the truck! It’s obvious as the Japanese people don’t walk into any homes with shoes on. And the truck is evidently their home! Wouldn’t work in Finland, or would it?
Now it’s time to my beauty sleep. Don’t know if it’s possible, as there seems to be a hell of a noise out from the street. Drums, trumpets, singing and screaming. I live on the 22nd floor, but believe me, the noise is just as loud as if it was from the 2nd floor. It’s way over midnight, but luckily our next work shift starts later. So my next challenge #two will be a good sleep. Even with the one note samba!
Hei Soile, vanhoja luokkakavereita. Muistatko Eija Lumijärven. Olen seurannut sun uraa. Olen eläkkeellä. Miten sinä. Olisi Ihan tavata jossain, asun Jyväskylässä. Terkuin Eija
Olet suuren kuohuvan arvoinen. Kuten greggariaanit ovat jo asian ajatelleetkin. Tervetuloa. Potut ja tomaatitkin odottavat!
ihanasti kirjoitettu ja te teitte valtavan hienon työn . Tervetuloa kotiin lepäämään... lomalle vähäksi aikaa. Kiitos teille kaikille
Makkarat ja pekonit jättäisin syömättä, mutta muuten ihan syötävältä näyttää; mutta ei kyllä japanilaiselta.