The Western Perspective Part 1

Well if there was ever a night to be a proud Canadian and drink way too much beer, last night was it. As is evident by the HQ couch as it cradles both mine and the Spouses sorry Canuck carcasses, as we attempt to fling syllables at each other while flipping through the channels.

Yup. Just hung. One big Olympic sized, "ouch."

So by now I'm sure you've read the Skip's damning report from l'est regarding last night's Opening Ceremonies. I had a really good guffaw over it this morning as it helped sooth my screaming brain cells. Whilst I agree with some of the assessments put forth, I must paint an entirely picture of last night's soiree.

From the other side of The Dominion;

The call came in early in the week from my friend and fellow Doukabour, Mike. He was assembling a squad to watch the Opening Ceremonies and wanted to get into the heart of action. The destination, Live City Yaletown. It was a solid plan.

We all ditched work/school/virtual unemployment early and converged on the venue from many corners of the city. We had at least 3 hours to kill before the big opeining drop in, so we figured we'd check out a few of the "attractions."

What we were met with was one of the most audacious and ultimately preposterous displays of corporate captivity that I have ever witnessed. First things on the agenda was securing eats. As I had raced down to Livecity in eager, early anticipation I had forgotten to lunch so I hit the international smorg.

And oooohhh, nothing like a selection of jamaican patties, calzone, and butter chicken from a myriad of nations to make a guy feel like the world really was in town. Where would I start?

In the end Dice and I decided to go domestic, each ordering a bison burger from the Canada kiosk. Forget the rest of the ruckus surrounding The Games so far. The failing torch pillar, the rain on Cypress and the not so peaceful protest, the real underlying tragedy at these Olympics so far is the ultimately wretched, processed, crap that's slopped out for 8 bucks at official sites.

So vile this sandwich was it made the menu at COSTCO seem innovative and delectable. And that goes across oceans. The 1/2 bbq chicken I consumed not an hour later from the India counter didn't fare much better. By this point I was just eating for padding and to avoid being starved during the ceremony. I still regret not asking for $20 in loons and popping them intermittently like tic taks.

[in a bit of an unorthodox move, I am posting only the first bit of our ceremony experience, as even typing each sentence hurts immensely. Also I must depart for work, so the remainder will still be up post-shift.]

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[Ok back. And isn't it funny how events unfurl. More on this later.]

We still had a few hours to kill so we figured we'd check out some of the promotional tents. Line ups were pretty long in front of some them. The cheery Coca Cola promo people out side the massive red Coca Cola Thunder-tent were even handing out tickets for admittance at a later time. They were very secretive about what was inside. If we elected to return it would have to be in few hours.

We parked outside the Samsung tent. And waited for half an hour to get in, just taking part in the inanity out of sheer boredom. Turns out the inane wait outside could not compare to the sheer ridiculousness on the other side of the stantions. Immediately we were corralled into a room in front of a big screen and refused access to the rest of the tent until the Samsung promo video had played. I turned to the Spouse in horror. I felt like McDowel in A Clockwork Orange.

What greeted us inside was like a glorified section at Future Shop. A couple of cell phones scattered around the premises as well as some very rudimentary video games with that Quatchi character. All to live soothing soft rock by some songstress who just booked the most soul destroying show in all of Vancouver.

We escaped. Forked out for some overpriced coffee and waited. It was just about time. The Spouse and our pal Allison figured that they just had to see if Willy Wonka was indeed in the Coke Thunder-tent. They presented their tickets and entered. We didn't know if we'd see them again.

The rest of us scoped out the scenery, found our place to set up shop, and waited. It was getting electric. The stage had two huge screens on either side, both broadcasting the CTV feed. The best thing about the set up was the backdrop or lack thereof behind the stage, as it sits open providing a spectacular view of the False Creek. I would definitely be there on Tuesday night watching Alexisonfire destroy Yaletown, but there's a Russia/Latvia tilt to take in.

Finally, the Spouse and Allison emerged from the clutches of Coke. They were visibly shaken. Their story will be told at a later time. And after dealing with some of the Coke brass themselves tonight myself I can sympathize with their plight.

It got darker. It got quieter. And then wow. Thousands of voices shouted all the way to Gander.

And the show began.

Tomorrow. The rest.