Canadian intrigue. On ice.

 

I joined in the fun last weekend watching the Winter Olympics gold medal hockey game.  Living as close to Canada as we do, I feel more secure knowing that their national pride was bolstered even if they don't have nukes (as far as we know).  But maybe more interesting than seeing Canada get a national chubby is how first draft stories of this great moment in hockey history are coming out.  Such as how Sidney Crosby's stick, one glove and the game-winning puck went a-missin' after the game.  Somewhere out there, I imagine a crime novel being lived in the underground transfer of these incalculably worthy items from fan to fence to hood.  I can picture a high-level boss of the BackBacon and Toques mafia rubbing his bejeweled, maple-syrup-stained fingers over his new, prized possessions, pondering his childhood dreams on the clean, yet still rather harsh streets of Montreal.  

And then in publishing, there's a minor story about how two competing publishers were rushing to get a book out THIS WEEK encapsulating and hoping to take advantage of the Canadian triumph.  The fact that a book like that can be cranked out so quickly makes me wonder what the world record for publishing turnaround might be and if it is threatened by this project.  I imagine World Series Champs books get pumped through the sausage press every season.  But this has to be close to some sort of record. 

Obviously, this level of distraction shows I'm focused on things other than my own work.  I'll blame it on a good thing - we leave tomorrow for a week of skiing and associated wintry fun at Mammoth Mountain in California.  It seems crazy to compare the more than 400-inches of snow they've received this year with the early cherry blossoms in Seattle.  But I damn well look forward to doing so.  Maya's game to try some classes.  Or at least that's what we're all telling ourselves at this point.  Check back to see how it goes.  Rock on.