#106 （2026年10月10日放送分）真誠presents 大久保佳代子・森本しんたろうのどうぞご自由に

Morimoto's MC Debut at 'Mugen Yajima Lee' — and Yutty's Nerve Fail

The opening listener mail came from radio name Puramo no Nippaa-san, a 43-year-old from Tokyo, writing about Morimoto Shintaro's first live MC gig after he finally decoded the hiragana in his name — a one-night show called "Mugen Yajima Lee" ("Infinite Yajima Lee").

The event is an annual showcase built around comedy duo Skachan's Yajima Lee, who strings together corner after corner designed to delight her guests. For the post-encore slot, Yajima Lee and Yutty had co-written a novelty song called "Wakachiko Monchu" — a mashup of Yutty's signature "wakachiko wakachiko" and Yajima Lee's "monchu" catchphrase — and planned to perform it live for the first time.

Yajima Lee is comfortable singing idol songs in public; Yutty is not. Starting one or two corners before the encore, his mind was already stuck on a single loop: *I have to sing after this.* By the time he walked onstage for the encore, his vocal cords had clenched up with anxiety and his volume was audibly thin. Morimoto reacted with mock outrage — "How many years into your career are you?!" — before offering a genuine analysis: people tense up when they try to project a bigger image than they naturally carry. He contrasted Yutty's usual off-duty cool — street-style clothes, casually dropping an easy "Hey, you good?" on Ohkubo — with the disarming sight of that same person freezing with nerves, and said that gap is exactly what makes Yutty so likable. Ohkubo added that she barely knew his early days in the duo Mamburu Gotchi and lost track of him for a while, then looked up one day to find him already out in the world as the silver-haired Yutty.

Ohkubo Discovers Her 'Mountain Self' — and Her Pet Pulls Her Back

About a week before recording, Ohkubo joined an NHK shoot on Mt. Ontake (3,070 m, straddling Gifu and Nagano prefectures) — a straightforward, one-night-two-day climb described as "pure hiking, nothing fancy," alongside a professional mountaineer.

Once inside the mountain, she was surprised by how calm she became. When a shoelace started to come undone and a crew member offered to fix it, she simply let them — she turned into, as she put it, "a helpless person being cared for." A one-hour wait didn't bother her at all. When the staff asked her to walk back five metres and do a shot again, she complied without a flicker of irritation. Her read on herself: "When I understand that a situation is beyond my control, I can surrender to it — and I think I actually like that." The autumn foliage at altitude added to the calm.

Then came day two. Rain on the first day had pushed back the schedule, meaning she'd get home later than planned. Her pet Pakomichan was being looked after by someone else, and the pickup arrangement she'd made started nagging at her. "At 3,000 m above sea level, my everyday self came back." When the mountaineer suddenly fixated on a plastic tag on a backpack and everyone stopped to deal with it, the serenity of the previous day evaporated — she caught herself scanning her surroundings with a sour expression, to the point where the crew started tiptoeing around her. She wrapped the story with a wry laugh: "At least I know the root of my irritation was love for Pakomichan — maybe that counts as a good thing."

Listener Advice ①: Four Years of Doubt — Divorce or a Baby?

Radio name Nanachan Ningyo-san, a 30-year-old from Nagoya, wrote in with a knotty situation. She sensed her now-husband's emotional instability even while they were dating, yet married him anyway — driven, she admits, by a strong desire to marry *someone* and a bit of escapism. Throughout wedding planning, the honeymoon, and everyday life, divorce crossed her mind repeatedly, but the hassle of paperwork and the weight of social appearances kept her in place. Four years in, they've bought a house together and taken on a mortgage. Now, at 30 and starting to think about children, she's scared by the question: *Do I actually want this man's child?* Her husband treats her exceptionally well, and she carries the idea that "you might be happiest marrying someone who loves you more than you love yourself" — yet the recurring thoughts of divorce won't go away.

Both Ohkubo and Morimoto called it genuinely hard, upfront. Neither has been married, so they flagged that everything they say is imagined rather than lived. They let slip their real feeling — "Feeling this uneasy for this long, divorce seems like it could be on the table" — but stopped short of an explicit push, saying they couldn't take responsibility for whatever came after. They acknowledged that having a child sometimes changes a relationship, but warned it could just as easily amplify stress if nothing else changed. Their closing recommendation: start with an honest conversation with your husband; and if you need a harsher opinion than they can give, try life-advice specialist Kato Taizo's segment.

Listener Advice ②: Can't Stop Giving Gifts to Strangers

Radio name Miuchi-shi, a 40-year-old from Hokkaido, has an impulse to give things away — not just to friends but to shop staff she only visits occasionally, and to delivery drivers. Family members have started telling her she's making people feel obligated. She buys extra when she spots something nice, but then freezes at the moment of handing it over, thinks better of it, and ends up with the surplus at home.

Ohkubo confessed she's almost entirely on the not-giving side herself. But she described older women she admires — the Asagaya sisters, impressionist Miharu — who are serial gifters, swapping unusual finds like goji berries back and forth, and said once she understood that these were simply their personalities, she started accepting things from them without guilt. The hosts' verdict was quick and clean: "Don't stop — give away." Yes, someone you're not close to might be a little startled, but Ohkubo said people like Miuchi-shi are what keep the world from going cold, and Morimoto backed her up in full.