Best Experienced With: Neneh Cherry; Buffalo Stance (12” Dance Mix)
(ladies and gentlemen….I’d like to introduce the high hat. Please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s missive.
As we rolled out of Vancouver this afternoon, Bob Costas and his posse ran us off the road just before we hit the Lion’s Gate bridge. Kyle and I nearly made a clean escape from the madness that was downtown Vancouver. Costas has prevented many a clean escape in the past and Costas always will prevent clean escapes. Calcutta on its most busy day does not hold a candle to downtown Vancouver when both the men’s figure skating exhibition and the curling gold medal match happen simulteously. Downtown Vancouver today made blood seep out my ears and our singular purpose was escape. Costas. Costas always spoils everything.
Costas wanted to do a segment this evening as a capstone to the Vancouver Olympics. Sort of a Julie Newmar meets Abbot and Costello in a dark alley while the Mad Hatter tosses back mercury boilermakers and blabbers on and on about ravens and desks. Believe it or not, most of the world viewing audience has no earthly idea what curling is, how curlers curl, or how curling is scored. After watching the gold medal curling match with our new friends here at The Howe Sound Inn, we have two solid suggestions for the Mind of Mully readers.
First, each of us needs a pair of the trousers the gentlemen from Norway wore. Those were fashion forward trousers, sure to appear in Milan this spring. Second, always watch curling in a pub in the gold medal winning country. When you watch curling in the gold medal winning country, you can feign attention and simply cheer when everyone around you cheers. Occam’s razor rears its head again, yes?
Costas, ever the fan of analogies and euphemistic reporting, wanted to explain curling to the world using my dating history as the allegory. Brilliant! Kyle threw orange smoke to confuse and we hit the gas. Speedometer pinned, the two of us laughing like hyenas, we took all the hairpin curves near Horseshoe Bay while Costas sat feeding the Canadian geese in Stanley park. I like to think Costas was mumbling “Mully always gets away” while making wide, arcing gestures with arms. In my imagination, Costas always mumbles in some dead language like Crimean Gothic.
My first celebrity crush was Kim Richards from the first version of Escape From Witch Mountain. Sent Kim a handwritten letter inviting her to my sixth grade dance. Four weeks later, my mom and I steamed open a typed letter from Kim thanking me for my idol worship and a signed black and white 8.5” X 11” glossy picture. The picture was signed to “Don”. I doused the photo in gasoline, torched it, and jumped Tonka trucks on my purple banana seat bike with a sissy bar. Rear view mirrors are for pansy anarchists.
Next celebrity crush was Olivia de Hussey. To this day, her portrayal of Juliet in Romeo and Juliet is unsurpassed. Unfortunately, Olivia was thirty when I was thirteen and both of us realized this was untenable. Thereafter followed a long line of random, obscure, and mostly unattainable beautiful women. Each choice was intentional and all choices remain unrequited. “Intentional” is my middle name and it too is pronounced “X-E-N-O-P-H-O-B-E. ”
We are the sum of our experiences. Was this the first time I waited for Julia Mancuso for eleven hours, sobbing and carrying on? Yes. Will it happen again? Kind of depends upon whether she qualifies for the Olympics again four years from now and whether Julia is still a hottie then. I am nothing if not shallow. Even refused the Jello shots sent to the table by Canadian Olympic freestyle skier (and hot blonde), Veronika Bauer while waiting on little Ms. No Show, Julia Mancuso. Next time I am going to take Kyle’s sage advice and “go Canadian early.” Kyle is wise beyond his years.
Curling and my attraction choices…………….……..my attraction choices and curling. Each is a Rubik’s cubic wrapped in a Ponzi scheme. You can never to expect to fully understand either. The best you can hope for is to cheer at the right time and know when to cut your losses as the room remains silent and people glance uncomfortably at their loafers.
The Mind of Mully
Wind on my face
Sound in my ears
Water from my eyes
And you on my mind
Bomb the bass.
Bomb the bass, indeed.