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The Water Cooler
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Olympics August 6
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<blockquote data-quote="Lone Wolf &#039;49" data-source="post: 1866859" data-attributes="member: 3016"><p>Continued.............................</p><p></p><p>Mike asked if I liked London. Many people want to know that. Of course, I said yes because it’s true. Side note: I have not heard a single negative word about the city from journalists. Let me repeat that: “not a single negative word” and “journalists” in the same sentence. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I like the people best,” I said.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Right,” said Mike. “We are sincere and polite. That’s just who we are.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He gave me directions to get out of the park, although I didn’t want to leave. It was a perfect morning, but the Main Press Centre and ticketing beckoned a half-mile away.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>While I sat on a wet bench in the splendid shade to quickly scribble Mike’s comments onto my folded-up piece of legal pad, a woman with a Wicked Witch basket on the back of her bicycle pedaled by. She was pretty and dark and wore a nice-looking dress which blew in her breeze. Toto didn’t jump out of the basket, but the Wicked Witch music got into my head and didn’t leave for several hours.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lunch: Summer sausage and smoked pork loin, courtesy of USOC volunteer Craig Bohnert.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I forgot to mention that Nicki was enthralled by the little electronic cars that carried the implements in the hammer throw from the landing area back to the athletes. She said, “I think I like ‘field’ better than ‘track.’” Yes, all you Texas people, it reminded me of Jones Ramsey.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Weather: high 68, low 61. Felt cooler because of the breeze and rain showers. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Assume you have seen photos of the LOCOG volunteers. They’re universally terrific. Their uniforms consist of two trousers, two shirts, a jacket, a hat, a Swatch and shoes. They get one voucher each day for food. </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This USOC media staff works very hard during the games. Mark arrives by 8 a.m. every day, and Christie, Brittany and Katie stay up until 2 a.m. putting out the dandy electronic USA Daily that carries feature stories on the American athletes and the next day’s schedule. It’s an enormous amount of work. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The wonderful Brits are doing anything they can to touch the Olympics. The crowds at yesterday’s women’s marathon were huge. The road cyclists said the race outdrew fabulous Tour de France. Folks also pack into the various sites around town where the Games are shown live on big-screen televisions. They understand this is a fortnight that will not come to them again. They do not want to miss it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Today’s confirmation that George Bernard Shaw was right when he wrote that we and the British are “two peoples separated by a common language.” A friend told me he snuck off for a “kip”. Back home, that would be a nap.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Shaw, on my pedestrian journey, I felt like I had often walked down those streets before, and passed many quaint, dignified places that certainly might have been 27-A Wimpole Street. </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Does any reader know who lived at 27-A Wimpole Street? </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We left the office about 7. The dandy barbershop singers came back to perform in the MPC courtyard this evening, but I forgot to go down and listen. Uncle Billy was smart to tie those strings around his fingers.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Walking from the Montague to dinner, we met a couple from Scotland who were eager to talk. Their son, Leo, was big for a six-year-old and he had curly blond hair. Leo didn’t say a word while we talked; he may have been warned about Stranger Danger although I doubt that sad element has migrated there. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The dad said, “Leo, this couple came all the way from America for the Olympics.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Leo looked up and his blue eyes widened, but he said not a word.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Finally I said, “Leo, do you think we talk funny?” He grinned a grin that I will remember forever and said, “I think a li’l bit, sir.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dinner: Fish and chips and a German Budweiser, at the legendary hole-in the-wall “Rock and Sole Plaice” (sic) near Covent Garden. Lance B., the South Dakota boy relocated to Washington, D.C, sent us. Lance is a normal guy in every way except he was only a Rhodes Scholar and can figure out just about anything, any time, any where and can explain it while using only a small allotment of words, all of them regular. Thanks for the tip, Lance!</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We sat with strangers and Craig on picnic tables outside, under a canopy which was helpful when the cold rain began.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Craig spotted a Baskin-Robbins and I had two dips of chocolate chip cookie dough because the clerk said it was the most popular. And because that’s what I always get. I felt a little silly walking into the refined Montague with the ice cream in hand, but the bellmen grinned and said it was okay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nicki finished her ice cream first as she always does. I ate mine in our four-poster bed and watched the Games on television. It was only 10 p.m.-an early night.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We didn’t see a single event today, except on television in the office. Yet it was one of the greatest days of my Olympic life.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What an honor and a privilege to be here! Inspire a generation. And mind the gap.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lone Wolf '49, post: 1866859, member: 3016"] Continued............................. Mike asked if I liked London. Many people want to know that. Of course, I said yes because it’s true. Side note: I have not heard a single negative word about the city from journalists. Let me repeat that: “not a single negative word” and “journalists” in the same sentence. “I like the people best,” I said. “Right,” said Mike. “We are sincere and polite. That’s just who we are.” He gave me directions to get out of the park, although I didn’t want to leave. It was a perfect morning, but the Main Press Centre and ticketing beckoned a half-mile away. While I sat on a wet bench in the splendid shade to quickly scribble Mike’s comments onto my folded-up piece of legal pad, a woman with a Wicked Witch basket on the back of her bicycle pedaled by. She was pretty and dark and wore a nice-looking dress which blew in her breeze. Toto didn’t jump out of the basket, but the Wicked Witch music got into my head and didn’t leave for several hours. Lunch: Summer sausage and smoked pork loin, courtesy of USOC volunteer Craig Bohnert. I forgot to mention that Nicki was enthralled by the little electronic cars that carried the implements in the hammer throw from the landing area back to the athletes. She said, “I think I like ‘field’ better than ‘track.’” Yes, all you Texas people, it reminded me of Jones Ramsey. Weather: high 68, low 61. Felt cooler because of the breeze and rain showers. Assume you have seen photos of the LOCOG volunteers. They’re universally terrific. Their uniforms consist of two trousers, two shirts, a jacket, a hat, a Swatch and shoes. They get one voucher each day for food. This USOC media staff works very hard during the games. Mark arrives by 8 a.m. every day, and Christie, Brittany and Katie stay up until 2 a.m. putting out the dandy electronic USA Daily that carries feature stories on the American athletes and the next day’s schedule. It’s an enormous amount of work. The wonderful Brits are doing anything they can to touch the Olympics. The crowds at yesterday’s women’s marathon were huge. The road cyclists said the race outdrew fabulous Tour de France. Folks also pack into the various sites around town where the Games are shown live on big-screen televisions. They understand this is a fortnight that will not come to them again. They do not want to miss it. Today’s confirmation that George Bernard Shaw was right when he wrote that we and the British are “two peoples separated by a common language.” A friend told me he snuck off for a “kip”. Back home, that would be a nap. Speaking of Shaw, on my pedestrian journey, I felt like I had often walked down those streets before, and passed many quaint, dignified places that certainly might have been 27-A Wimpole Street. Does any reader know who lived at 27-A Wimpole Street? We left the office about 7. The dandy barbershop singers came back to perform in the MPC courtyard this evening, but I forgot to go down and listen. Uncle Billy was smart to tie those strings around his fingers. Walking from the Montague to dinner, we met a couple from Scotland who were eager to talk. Their son, Leo, was big for a six-year-old and he had curly blond hair. Leo didn’t say a word while we talked; he may have been warned about Stranger Danger although I doubt that sad element has migrated there. The dad said, “Leo, this couple came all the way from America for the Olympics.” Leo looked up and his blue eyes widened, but he said not a word. Finally I said, “Leo, do you think we talk funny?” He grinned a grin that I will remember forever and said, “I think a li’l bit, sir.” Dinner: Fish and chips and a German Budweiser, at the legendary hole-in the-wall “Rock and Sole Plaice” (sic) near Covent Garden. Lance B., the South Dakota boy relocated to Washington, D.C, sent us. Lance is a normal guy in every way except he was only a Rhodes Scholar and can figure out just about anything, any time, any where and can explain it while using only a small allotment of words, all of them regular. Thanks for the tip, Lance! We sat with strangers and Craig on picnic tables outside, under a canopy which was helpful when the cold rain began. Craig spotted a Baskin-Robbins and I had two dips of chocolate chip cookie dough because the clerk said it was the most popular. And because that’s what I always get. I felt a little silly walking into the refined Montague with the ice cream in hand, but the bellmen grinned and said it was okay. Nicki finished her ice cream first as she always does. I ate mine in our four-poster bed and watched the Games on television. It was only 10 p.m.-an early night. We didn’t see a single event today, except on television in the office. Yet it was one of the greatest days of my Olympic life. What an honor and a privilege to be here! Inspire a generation. And mind the gap. [/QUOTE]
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