Listen, I’m supposed to be editing a manuscript right now. It is due in less than a week but I can’t FOCUS, people. And the singular reason for this lack of discipline: The XXI Winter Olympics! Do NOT groan, all you naysayers who don’t care about national issues like curling and the biathlon. If you’re looking for someone to bemoan the lack of prime time television during the SEVENTEEN DAYS OF GLORY, then you’re at the wrong blog. Here, we love images like this:
OK, that one’s a little creepy, but don’t you feel the excitement? Can’t you hear the national anthem? Don’t you wish you and your husband could hang out in the living room doing THIS?
There’s really no substitute for the Olympics. I have loved them since birth and was insanely pleased when they stopped making us wait FOUR LONG YEARS and started alternating summer and winter. And long about 1995 (right after Lillehammer ’94 and before Atlanta ’96), God be praised, I met the man and future husband who loves the Olympics even more than I! Unbelievable! Marc has the Olympic fanfare as his ringtone, friends. He tears up every time Bob Costas tells of an athlete who beat the odds, came out of misery and hardship, worked until he bled, and then dedicated his medal to his dead father. EVERY TIME. Can you see why I love this man, and not just for his rapping abilities?
So if you’re waiting for an e-mail from me about a speaking gig or if you’d like me to pick up the kids for carpool or if you think it’s about time I took down the Christmas lights, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait. I’m busy. Busy with greatness. Busy with the guts, the glory of Vancouver!
Cue tympani here and get out the eye make-up!