Say "hi" to your mother for me

With the Olympics winding down, I'm glad that I was reminded early this morning of one overriding principle that this quadrennial event promotes.  Hot people getting seriously busy with one another.  I applaud the fact that 100K condoms are handed out in the Olympic Village.  These athletes, after all, are in tip top condition and the finest physical specimens that their respective countries have to offer.  Not to mention that everyone in a northern global position this time of year innately seeks to share body heat, even if Vancouver is currently warmer than Dallas.  I was reminded by the replay of yesterday's ice dancing competition, as seen in replay form as I stretched before a run this morning.  The Canadian gold medal pair of Whatshisname Again and the virginal Tessa Virtue, especially.  Tessa Virtue, for the sake of Pete.  Followed by the Russian pair of Skanky Bonkski and Vigor Meshovits.  Or whatever their names are.  Regardless, thank you ice dancers of the world for putting some heat back on the ice.  Even if it's sibling heat, which is basically just wrong.  Except (apparently) in either Israel or New Jersey.

A few quickie reviews.  The new album by Hot Chip ("One Life Stand") has been in constant rotation for the past week in my brain.  Very throwback to 80s sounding clever pop, very hard not to get hooked on.  In a month I may never listen to this album again.  But for now, I give it a solid B rating.

The new HBO series "How To Make It In America" is a load of utter cast off runway trash.  Lindsey Lohan's label created more buzz.  I want this show canceled, and Mark Wahlberg should go back to underwear ads after producing this dreck.  My rating - a flat D-minus.  I'm only not pulling the F-rating out of storage because of Tessa Virtue.  But I'm not sure why.

Hope you say find another tagline to hang on Marky Mark that sticks like glue today.  Rock on.

Totally minor question - why do only figure skaters get a "do over" at the Olympics?

Like most 'Mericans, my interest in the Winter Olympics ebbs and flows.  Recent Games haven't thrilled me.  And I'm most definitely not one of the those that only cares about the medal count.  In fact, I most sincerely loved the Winter Games as a kid when we basically sucked competitively as a nation.  I remember fondly wishing that Bill Koch could somehow win another medal in cross country skiing when he was way past his prime to go with the surprise Silver he got in 1976.  I think Bill Johnson winning the men's downhill in 1984 was my favorite moment (even moreso than the Miracle on Ice in 1980), well before he ended up living in his truck.  I just used the Google to see that the USA won a total of 8 medals in '84.  East Germany and the Soviet Union won 24 and 25, respectively.  Hell, Finland had 13.  So it's a little weird to see such domination in Vancouver.   But I'm realistic.  Kudos for all the success.  As soon as the Games are over, most viewers will forget how much they enjoy, say, the combination of cross country skiing AND shooting rifles.  I don't expect ice fishing or wood toboggan racing to become  demonstration sports soon.  Still, this is a great fortnight of sporty entertainment.

Tiger Woods's strangely somber news, um, release earlier this morning was bad TV of the first order.  Did he perform well?  I'll leave that question to the ladies.  The consensus is a big "yes".  But when it comes to this morning, I don't think he kicked the ball anywhere.  Except possibly off the wall and right back at his crotch.

Seattle is drenched in sunshine and daytime highs pushing 60 degrees.  Vancouver is the exact same climate.  But they have that Olympic cauldron lit downtown, so it probably feels a few degrees warmer.  Weird.  I'd love to get Glenn Beck's take on that.

Hope your own momentary address of larger planetary issues merit more than an anecdotal rimshot today.  Rock on.

Getting to know some more of the neighborhood...

We're back from a short but fabulous vacation to a few of the choicest spots in the beautiful Northwest. Oddly enough, we left Maya here in Seattle in the enthusiastic care of her Nanna and Poppy. So Sarah and I got to play like teenagers with a stolen credit card and wide-eyed grins for a handful of days. In that light, I'll offer a few recommendations.

We caught "Blades of Glory" in Vancouver on our first night. That might sound a bit cheesy, but it was perfectly timed. If you can do so, see this movie in a theatre packed with Canadian teenagers. The mere fact that even a Canadian toddler gets a bawdy Zamboni joke is reason enough. Hilarious cast, ridiculous production design, entirely enjoyable goofballin'. My rating - a solid B.

On the other end of the cultural scale, we checked out the impressive Museum of Anthropology on the University of British Columbia's campus. The "First Nations" of what is now British Columbia produced fascinating art. The MOA's in the midst of a major expansion, so a rating would be unfair at this time. But I do highly recommend it.

One restaurant worth mentioning is Le Hermitage on Robson Street - masterful French country cuisine accompanied by casually elegant service. Yada yada yada. But the real treat was seeing the couple that had walked in just prior to us get engaged at the end of their meal. On one knee, ring in a box, tearful acceptance - the whole romantic shebang. Neither Sarah nor I have seen such a moment for another couple before. And I don't expect to have the chance again. Yet that one vicariously thrilling moment will forever ink in this restaurant on our rock solid "oh yea, worth it" list.

After a few days in Vancouver, we headed south and caught a ferry out to Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. It's just before the start of the high season, so the Island was largely devoid of too many people, um, like us. Which is nice. We went for morning runs, walked along the trails in both the "American" and "British" camps (from the infamous Pig War era of the 19th Century), and had some seriously disappointing overpriced meals at both the Friday Harbor House (our B&B/hotel) and McMillan's Dining Room in the Roche Harbor marina. Regardless, we'll be back, even if not to those particular restaurants. Riding the ferry through the San Juans in and of itself is reason enough to go.

And so with greater focus, we return to life here. Iraq's a quagmire with yet another summer right around the corner, Dubya's starting his 63rd Crawford ranch vacation putting the total number of days spent there comfortably over 400 during his trainwreck Presidency, the widely-beloved Milwaukee Brewers impressively took 2 of 3 from the Dodgers to open an entirely hopeful season, Maya's apparently found a new love in our absence (gardening), and the temp in Seattle's forecast to maybe hit 70 today. Take the incredibly bad with the hopeful goodness, I guess.

Hope your own Congressional testimony isn't fraught with legal jeopardy today. Rock on.