My Olympic Commute
This may be a sign that I'm watching too much olympics coverage. This morning, like every other morning, I drove to work. But in my head I couldn't stop imagining how it would sound if the commentators from various olympic sports were broadcasting my commute.
"Sweet! What a drive! That was a combo double-lane-change-McTwist / right-on-red. Super-hard to do and he nailed it! Flaming pistols of awesome-sauce!"
"Dan, as we watch Ryan curl away from the house, I think we should remind our viewers how difficult this is. I know driving to work looks easy but it's harder than it looks. It really is a sport. Really."
"Peggy, notice how the song on the radio crescendos perfectly in time with that acceleration to the on-ramp. So hard to do and Ryan pulls it off with elegance and longing. You can really feel the emotion coming through here. He's forlorn and disconsolate. It's almost palpable. I think it's a reflection of his father-wound."
"Well that run was three-one-hundredths of a second slower than his last commute, and I don't know why. Let's watch it again on replay, after which we will still have no idea."
"Ryan is driving uphill now! Uphill! Look-it! Uphill in the snow!"
"I've been to a lot of sporting events. I asked Ryan if he was nervous about this commute. He looked cool and calm and said he has done this thousands of times. He's ready. Also, I've been to a lot of sporting events."
"Was that a turn signal? I can't tell. I can't see anything."