You all might believe that this past Sunday's activities between the Who Dats and the Baby Horses was pretty exciting, but here at vonBloggenschtern Central - where I am, by the by, the Unofficial Ambassadrix of the 2010 Winter Olympics - The Superbowl was but a mere trifle.
For yesterday, in our neck of the woods, on a balmy, 53 degree F afternoon, there was a completely different brand of receiving, running, and passing.
Yesterday was the day when my Baron vonB ran his leg of the Olympic Torch Relay.
It was a surreal experience: anticipatory, overwhelming, exhilarating, patriotic, proud, loving - all SlapChopped into one big ball of awesome.
From the minute he got dropped off at his checkpoint - flame still unlit, waiting for the previous runner - The Baron was a rock star. He was swarmed by everyone and their baby, and one of my darling nieces had a real hard time pushing her way into the throng to get a picture taken. The Baron said he now has a modicum of sympathy for anyone with the last name 'Jonas'.
After a brief wait, and a police dispersement of the crowd (no firehoses nor tear gas required - we Canadians disperse quite nicely, thankyouverymuch), the hubster's torch was lit:
(that's him on the right, in the highly flammable, IOC-issued, figure-flattering white track suit)
He was off and running...
Accompanied by his posse of flame bodyguards - because even though we're such a polite bunch, we still have opinions.
(and if you have the balls to express them during ANY of the torch relays, see that smiling lady on the left? She'll kick your ass from here to Sunday)(and then bring out the firehose and teargas)(maybe the dogs, too)
And although he told me that he would maybe make a break for it and keep the flame for himself, he thought better of it at the last minute (perhaps because of that smiling lady), and graciously passed it along on its way:
Then someone official-like came along, extinguished the Baron's torch, and 'Pfffffft" - that was it.
Well, almost.
Because, being a vonBloggenschtern means that one can only take so much pomp and so much circumstance before one can't take it at all anymore, and has to live up to a dare:
For yesterday, in our neck of the woods, on a balmy, 53 degree F afternoon, there was a completely different brand of receiving, running, and passing.
Yesterday was the day when my Baron vonB ran his leg of the Olympic Torch Relay.
It was a surreal experience: anticipatory, overwhelming, exhilarating, patriotic, proud, loving - all SlapChopped into one big ball of awesome.
From the minute he got dropped off at his checkpoint - flame still unlit, waiting for the previous runner - The Baron was a rock star. He was swarmed by everyone and their baby, and one of my darling nieces had a real hard time pushing her way into the throng to get a picture taken. The Baron said he now has a modicum of sympathy for anyone with the last name 'Jonas'.
After a brief wait, and a police dispersement of the crowd (no firehoses nor tear gas required - we Canadians disperse quite nicely, thankyouverymuch), the hubster's torch was lit:
(that's him on the right, in the highly flammable, IOC-issued, figure-flattering white track suit)He was off and running...
Accompanied by his posse of flame bodyguards - because even though we're such a polite bunch, we still have opinions.(and if you have the balls to express them during ANY of the torch relays, see that smiling lady on the left? She'll kick your ass from here to Sunday)(and then bring out the firehose and teargas)(maybe the dogs, too)
And although he told me that he would maybe make a break for it and keep the flame for himself, he thought better of it at the last minute (perhaps because of that smiling lady), and graciously passed it along on its way:
Then someone official-like came along, extinguished the Baron's torch, and 'Pfffffft" - that was it.Well, almost.
Because, being a vonBloggenschtern means that one can only take so much pomp and so much circumstance before one can't take it at all anymore, and has to live up to a dare:
