They 'Lympics an' That.

The above, my old legumes, is Glaswegian for "The Olympic Games".

I really feel the need to write about something other than feeding a) my own fat face, b) The Other Half's chiselled jaw-hole, or c) the chubby chops of my son and heir, aka The Bairn. Feel a bit Brian Blessed chaps, as you are about to relive the very splendour of the past couple of weeks in Laaaandaaaaan. Or Darn Sarf, as it's also known.




The Opening Ceremony (The Red Arrows fly past at 20:12, disappointingly NOT in the shape of a Union Jack, but pretty cool nonetheless)

Behold!

As far as we can see (in a big stadium in London), the English countryside unfurls before our very eyes. Merry peasants frolic among the rolling hillocks. Edinburgh's finest munchkin choristers sing "Flower of Scotland", chronicling the savage Battle of Bannockburn. Appropriate? Who cares. It sounded magnificent.

Speaking of magnificent, we were treated to good old Kenny B (to the Branagh) starring as Isambard Kingdom Brunel, prompting some serious speed Googling and Wikipediaing. I'm ashamed to admit that my recollection of Standard Grade History (I got a 2, I could tell you wanted to know that) is pretty poor. Though I do remember that the Industrial Revolution was a while ago, and resulted in lots of smog and the need for many, many children to be manufactured in order to man the mills and new factories. To illustrate the Industrial Revolution, we were treated to chimney conjuring, performed by The Backstreet Boys - who had clearly been in a fight on the way Darn Sarf - although they DID WEAR TOP HATS and thus extra points may be awarded.

Then there were lots of Dancing Nurses and some evil Harry Potter baddies chasing very very ill children. Thankfully, the Olympic volunteers (Gamesmakers) gained control of the situation before there were any casualties. Huzzah!

Shortly after this my Dad called.

"Watching the ceremony, Dad?" says I.

"Well I was, but now there's just a load of girls dancing about and noise, so I think I'll put my Dad's Army video on instead" says Dad.

And that really is all that's to be said about that. I'd have really enjoyed his commentary on Danny Boyle's celebration of the cool kids using social networking to organise out a gallus night out culminating in a fair bit of winching, but alas, Captain Mainwaring beckoned - who'd refuse?

Several months passed, as we watched a seemingly endless stream of (possibly) made-up countries' athletes, all planting their Olympic torches at the top of Glastonbury Tor. May I say though, it was worth the wait, as when the "future hope of British athletics" kids lit the torches - it was simply beautiful. A tear may have been formed by the BusyAliBee Lacrimal apparatus.




The Olympics

Was amazing.

I hate sport in general. Never ever ever enjoyed it at school - not since Primary 7, when as tallest in my class, I was naturally tremendous at basketball. Having never grown since then, I did not retain that particular "skill".

For the past fortnight I've been watching all sorts of stuff. Diving, running, jumping, boating, punching... And The Modern Pentathlon. Which should be a futuristic film. Like Logan's Run. Awesome. My favourite moment? Jessica's Ennis - every one of her moments! She is incredible. Like a gorgeous little Amazonian warrior lady from Sheffiield. And CLARE BALDING. She is just brilliant. Nice, funny, natural... Great on Twitter too. Too many new heroes to count. My head might explode with all this inspiration. Mostly it's inspired me to do a bit of blogging - but who knows? Maybe I'll take up the hammer throw?

We were AT the Olympics. Well, at the Egypt vs Belarus football match in Hampden Park, Glasgow.

A very excited Bee with The Bairn dressed as a waterproof dinosaur. Because that's what Scottish Summer is all about.

Closing Ceremony

The Other Half, carrying a supersize bag of Asda crinkle cut ready salted crisps: "It's just starting!"

Me, failing to print captioned family photos for The Bairn's nursery bag: "I'll be through in a minute!"

33 minutes later, mostly because PHOTOSHOP IS AN ARSE, The Other Half awaits, BBC1 paused and poised for action. Unfortunately, there was no pause button for snackage, of which 4 crisps remain. And thus it begins. The trinity of TV, Twitter and Facebook. All out of sync and doing my tired little antennae in.

In summary:

Rubbish bits

George Michael's AWFUL new song. Just do the old stuff, Geo!!!

The Spice Girls tottering on top of Hackney cabs in giant Zimmer frames.

Jessie J dressed as a vajazzle.

Bowie montage without a real Bowie :(

A few old clothes horses wiggling about - led by Baroness Katherine of Moss.

Good bits

ANNIE LENNOX - make her a saint, for goodness sake!

The late Sir Frederick of Mercury - generally being absent but beautiful and SWEARING!

The Spice Girls tottering on top of Hackney cabs in giant Zimmer frames. (On mute)

Timothy Spall doing Churchill, just because he's TIMOTHY SPALL and he is a treasure.

Stomp being outstanding as always.

Russell Brand dressed as the Childcatcher from ChittyChitty BangBang and singing I Am The Walrus! Did I momentarily slip into a fruit-cider fuelled hallucination? No! It ACTUALLY HAPPENED!

Madness, The Pet Shop Boys, Take That...

Are you reading this, Her Maj the Queen? I recommend you actually, definitely, without-doubt knight Gary Barlow ASAP. He is a true British hero.

Taking into account real life, and the tragedies normal people have to overcome everyday, it makes you realise there is more to life than a 2 week sport extravaganza. But it's certainly provided all us Brits with a common denominator, and reminds us that we're all here on this collection of little islands together - and we know how to put on a spectacular show.

We conjured chimneys for Gawd's Sake!

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