I have to say, while I do love reading, watching the Olympics for the next 17 days has replaced my evening literary dessert.
Okay here we go:
I loved, absolutely loved, the First Nations. I think it was just right, in fact I would have liked to watch it longer. It was beautiful mix of colors and dancing. They are athletes in their own right; dancing through the entire parade of nations! Awesome!
And to the gentleman from the Cayman Islands, what a charmed life you lead.
I was disappointed that the Flame Lighting did not go according to plan. I know you can never predict a mechanical failure, so I cannot blame those ambitious Canadians too much.
Overall the word I would use to describe the Opening is whimsical. I would not necessarily describe it as the media told us time and time again as "intimate." Far from it in fact. The thing about the Olympics, is the whole world is watching. This gives me chills, but is oddly comforting. The fact that for the next two weeks countries all over the globe are hoping for the best, whether it's a personal record or facing the world on the podium for the first time, it's a wonderful way to examine what it means to be human. Everybody watching, participating, cheering, hoping, celebrating, consoling, coaching, or breathing, is just that: a body. We are connected for this brief moment in time in the spirit of testing ourselves against only ourselves.
Okay enough waxing romantic, I know I get carried away, but I LOVE IT. And rightly so, I think, after all I'm working my way to Rio in 2016...