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<blockquote data-quote="Lone Wolf &#039;49" data-source="post: 1859308" data-attributes="member: 3016"><p>Saturday, July 28 </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(Please excuse the typos. Will hurry. There’s much Olympics to explore.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Left the office after the ceremony at 1:45 a.m. The line for the media shuttle to</p><p> </p><p>Russell Square was even longer than the one Ralphie and Randy faced at the department store. A few reporters tried to jump the line. When they spotted the transgression, others said “hey, kid, the line ENDS here. It starts there&#8230;.” (Two photographers almost got into fisticuffs over a line-jumping sin. I was happy neither was an American.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Locog scrounged more buses out of thin air and we only had to wait about 25 minutes. We did see a screaming match after one photographer jumped the line and another ordered him to go to the back like everyone else. I was happy neither was an American.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Also last night, one of the double-decker bus driver in the media’s Olympic Park loop took a wrong turn and his bus was too tall for a bridge. It shattered the front window in the upper deck; luckily no one was hurt. The two American passengers said another bus arrived in 30 minutes to haul everyone back to the MPC. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky&#8230;.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Breakfast: Mixed fruit, awesome crunchy bacon (ACB), great link sausage, scrambled eggs which were good after I figured out how to grind the salt, canaloni beans (pork ‘n to us rsdneck),wheat toast with currant jelly, orange juice, yogurt. Adele, the wonderfully pleasant server at the Montague, said, “are you having your usual, Mr. Hancock?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Commute: Red double-decker shuttle to the MPC, 33 minutes. NOT full. 8 a.m .bus after 3 a.m. bedtime. The Tower of London and Tower Bridge were not sleepy; bikers and runners were enjoying the quiet Saturday morning. Back to Russell Square tonight on the 8:30 shuttle. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Email from home: As Edward R. Murrow used to say, "You are there".</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Email from home: “I guess that wasn't you and Nicki sitting directly behind the Queen about 3 rows up. My mistake. I saw in Newsweek or TIME that opening ceremony tickets were over $3000.00! I'm glad it was on TV!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Olympics is such a happy place, with mostly jovial people. Grumps melt away like the wicked witch.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I will say this: it is really difficult to understand what some Brits are saying. My most-used word here has been “huh?” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What’s better in music than 40,000 people singing Waltzing Matilda, or or Hava Nagila or “Our Chant Rolls On and On” or Hang On Sloopy, or Hey Jude? </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Email from home: “So, did you sing along with Sir Paul?” </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> Answer: “No, I didn’t. There’s no singing in the press box.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Volunteers du jour: Ben, 50’s, works at the catch-all, do-anything-for-you, sensational technology help desk in the MPC. I asked what’s the weirdest request he’s received: “One chap asked about windows. I asked whether he meant Windows Vista, or Windows 7 or Windows 8. No, you bloody fool, I’m having trouble with the windows in my office in the MPC: they won’t open.” (It’s true; a few offices do have windows that actually open. It’s a first, at least in my memory.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>We’ve solved the mystery of the colored lights and “growling” in Russell Square: it’s the “breathing trees.” Why didn’t I think of that! It’s art work. The purple, red and blue lights come on, and there’s a recorded sound that’s really does sound a lot like breathing. Each tree breathes about once every 20 seconds. It’s extremely cool.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Email from home: “Whatever you do, don't get thrown in gaol.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Saw a large yacht moored on the Thames; I guess it’s some kind of floating bar, because people were having dinks and watching the Olympics on a big-screen television. What a life.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Knock on wood, security is nicely not overwhelming. In fact, it’s almost invisible. Like a good referee, we don’t even know it’s there.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Lunch: Six cookies, tasty strawberry yogurt, banana from cart.</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.” The elevators here in the Main Press Center are the fancy kind where you press your floor and the elevator tells you which one is going to your floor. Oops, they’re “lifts,” not elevators.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Speaking of Shaw, two friends reached their hotel at 5 a.m.today after writing about the wonderful opening ceremony. I don’t suppose either of them said, “some bloke who’s able, lift up the table, but me to the (Main Press Center) on time.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It really was a long night for journalists. They were writing their stories in the work room in the bowls of the Olympic Stadium when the people in charge said all writers would need to leave at 3 a.m. And the work room was full of reporters, all on varying deadlines. Not wanting a confrontation, the two savvy Americans rode the bus back to the MPC and finished working here. I’m happy I wasn’t there at 3 a.m.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Email from home: “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who remembers every line from My Fair Lady.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>London papers are giving glowing reviews of the opening ceremony. The word in the Main Press Center are also overwhelmingly positive-at least from people who were there. On the other hand, reporters who watched it on television felt pretty grumpy about it. I’m sorry for them. I loved it.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Watching on television on one of the four televisions in our office, we got way into archery as the U.S. men’s team kept winning and made its way into the finals. We lost by one (point?) to Italy when their guy made a clutch 10-point bull’s eye on the last arrow. It was as exciting as a two-point conversion at the end of the fourth overtime. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Weather: Sunny, coolish and breezy. High 68, low 57.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Watched the Lochte-Phelps match (from the MPC talk, you’d think nobody else was in the pool!) with great interest. Time marches on. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>London Fact that surely must be true because somebody told me: </p><p></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Four major poor newspapers missed the 2 p.m. deadline to pick up tonight’s swimming tickets, but I held them, knowing the folks would be along soon. Sure enough, one frustrated editor arrived to say his reporter had been negligent, one writer frantically said he had lost his ticket, and a photographer gave his back. One paper’s reporter never did show up, so somebody got a second ticket.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dinner: Went totally crazy at 10 p.m. Had way too much terrific hand-made lasagna. garlic toast and some of Nicki’s spaghetti. Chardonnay.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What a privilege to be here! Every day is an adventure. Inspire a generation. And mind the gap.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lone Wolf '49, post: 1859308, member: 3016"] Saturday, July 28 (Please excuse the typos. Will hurry. There’s much Olympics to explore.) Left the office after the ceremony at 1:45 a.m. The line for the media shuttle to Russell Square was even longer than the one Ralphie and Randy faced at the department store. A few reporters tried to jump the line. When they spotted the transgression, others said “hey, kid, the line ENDS here. It starts there….” (Two photographers almost got into fisticuffs over a line-jumping sin. I was happy neither was an American.) Locog scrounged more buses out of thin air and we only had to wait about 25 minutes. We did see a screaming match after one photographer jumped the line and another ordered him to go to the back like everyone else. I was happy neither was an American. Also last night, one of the double-decker bus driver in the media’s Olympic Park loop took a wrong turn and his bus was too tall for a bridge. It shattered the front window in the upper deck; luckily no one was hurt. The two American passengers said another bus arrived in 30 minutes to haul everyone back to the MPC. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky…. Breakfast: Mixed fruit, awesome crunchy bacon (ACB), great link sausage, scrambled eggs which were good after I figured out how to grind the salt, canaloni beans (pork ‘n to us rsdneck),wheat toast with currant jelly, orange juice, yogurt. Adele, the wonderfully pleasant server at the Montague, said, “are you having your usual, Mr. Hancock?” Commute: Red double-decker shuttle to the MPC, 33 minutes. NOT full. 8 a.m .bus after 3 a.m. bedtime. The Tower of London and Tower Bridge were not sleepy; bikers and runners were enjoying the quiet Saturday morning. Back to Russell Square tonight on the 8:30 shuttle. Email from home: As Edward R. Murrow used to say, "You are there". Email from home: “I guess that wasn't you and Nicki sitting directly behind the Queen about 3 rows up. My mistake. I saw in Newsweek or TIME that opening ceremony tickets were over $3000.00! I'm glad it was on TV!” The Olympics is such a happy place, with mostly jovial people. Grumps melt away like the wicked witch. I will say this: it is really difficult to understand what some Brits are saying. My most-used word here has been “huh?” What’s better in music than 40,000 people singing Waltzing Matilda, or or Hava Nagila or “Our Chant Rolls On and On” or Hang On Sloopy, or Hey Jude? Email from home: “So, did you sing along with Sir Paul?” Answer: “No, I didn’t. There’s no singing in the press box.” Volunteers du jour: Ben, 50’s, works at the catch-all, do-anything-for-you, sensational technology help desk in the MPC. I asked what’s the weirdest request he’s received: “One chap asked about windows. I asked whether he meant Windows Vista, or Windows 7 or Windows 8. No, you bloody fool, I’m having trouble with the windows in my office in the MPC: they won’t open.” (It’s true; a few offices do have windows that actually open. It’s a first, at least in my memory.) We’ve solved the mystery of the colored lights and “growling” in Russell Square: it’s the “breathing trees.” Why didn’t I think of that! It’s art work. The purple, red and blue lights come on, and there’s a recorded sound that’s really does sound a lot like breathing. Each tree breathes about once every 20 seconds. It’s extremely cool. Email from home: “Whatever you do, don't get thrown in gaol.” Saw a large yacht moored on the Thames; I guess it’s some kind of floating bar, because people were having dinks and watching the Olympics on a big-screen television. What a life. Knock on wood, security is nicely not overwhelming. In fact, it’s almost invisible. Like a good referee, we don’t even know it’s there. Lunch: Six cookies, tasty strawberry yogurt, banana from cart. 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.” The elevators here in the Main Press Center are the fancy kind where you press your floor and the elevator tells you which one is going to your floor. Oops, they’re “lifts,” not elevators. Speaking of Shaw, two friends reached their hotel at 5 a.m.today after writing about the wonderful opening ceremony. I don’t suppose either of them said, “some bloke who’s able, lift up the table, but me to the (Main Press Center) on time.” It really was a long night for journalists. They were writing their stories in the work room in the bowls of the Olympic Stadium when the people in charge said all writers would need to leave at 3 a.m. And the work room was full of reporters, all on varying deadlines. Not wanting a confrontation, the two savvy Americans rode the bus back to the MPC and finished working here. I’m happy I wasn’t there at 3 a.m. Email from home: “I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who remembers every line from My Fair Lady.” London papers are giving glowing reviews of the opening ceremony. The word in the Main Press Center are also overwhelmingly positive-at least from people who were there. On the other hand, reporters who watched it on television felt pretty grumpy about it. I’m sorry for them. I loved it. Watching on television on one of the four televisions in our office, we got way into archery as the U.S. men’s team kept winning and made its way into the finals. We lost by one (point?) to Italy when their guy made a clutch 10-point bull’s eye on the last arrow. It was as exciting as a two-point conversion at the end of the fourth overtime. Weather: Sunny, coolish and breezy. High 68, low 57. Watched the Lochte-Phelps match (from the MPC talk, you’d think nobody else was in the pool!) with great interest. Time marches on. London Fact that surely must be true because somebody told me: Four major poor newspapers missed the 2 p.m. deadline to pick up tonight’s swimming tickets, but I held them, knowing the folks would be along soon. Sure enough, one frustrated editor arrived to say his reporter had been negligent, one writer frantically said he had lost his ticket, and a photographer gave his back. One paper’s reporter never did show up, so somebody got a second ticket. Dinner: Went totally crazy at 10 p.m. Had way too much terrific hand-made lasagna. garlic toast and some of Nicki’s spaghetti. Chardonnay. What a privilege to be here! Every day is an adventure. Inspire a generation. And mind the gap. [/QUOTE]
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