5 Ring Circus

Students:

     Having now been subjected to nearly 4 full days/nights of entreaties to watch NBC's god-awful, wall-to-wall coverage, I'm not exactly tingling with excitement. I thought perhaps by now others may too have developed a growing disdain for all things Olympic. Even if you have not, and number yourselves among the Games' mush-minded devotees, I must get this Gold, Silver & Bronze plated rant out of my system. As such, here are Speed's:

Top 10 Reasons Not To Watch The Olympics

10. Too many foreigners 
       allowed to compete.

     

 9. Confusing array of rings; 

     Ballantine only needed 3.

     Why so many colors?
         <with eyebrow raised...>
                                       

  8. American athletes wearing berets; really, berets? Looks more like the Crips' answer to the Guardian Angels. 

  
  7. Juan Antonio Samaranch
        <Google & learn>

6. Includes "sports" such as Badminton & Table Tennis; who wants to see contests where steroids offer no competitive advantage?  What's the point?

     

5. Over hyped, pampered, rigged to win teams and athletes LaBron James
       

     

 
4. Former Soviet Bloc female athletes are too frightening to watch.
  

    

 

3. Opening ceremonies cost more than the GNP of many sponsoring nations.

2. Wenlock & Mandeville

    <I have no words for this, but it looks like the little fellow on the left peed himself> 

1. The first Olympic Games featured nude competitors; what's wrong with tradition? 

       

 

    

     Feel free to comment/agree/disagree; go ahead, you know you want to. Ας αρχίσει το παιχνίδι.....

Invitees:
     There are many holidays celebrated in these United States, both sacred & secular. According to the last Day-Timer I used, prior to my conversion to digital technology, there are 37 recognized holidays listed for observance; these run the gamut from the obvious (4th of July, Christmas) to the arcane (Administrative Professionals day - April 27). Clearly, that listing is not exhausive; because if it were, it would include the recently celebrated day of my birth - July 20 - or, as it's more commonly known, The Second Coming. As a gesture of goodwill to all my demons, I'll rehash the many celebratory events conducted in my honor.
     Speed Week, as it's come to be called, began the previous Sunday; as befits any sacred holiday, the merriment commenced on the Lord's day. After services, we motored to a day spa in an undisclosed location north of the family compound. There, I enjoyed the hospitality of our gracious hosts as, for most of the day, I lay floating in the pool awaiting the delivery of yet another refreshing beverage. The day ended with an excellent repast and a chauffered ride home.
     The next three days were spent receiving a blizzard of well-wishes from around the globe, and preparing for the centerpiece of the week's festivities - the (mostly) annual pilgrimage to Pinehurst, N.C., for some real R&R. Thursday broke, and after a brief detour to ensure that all was well, we drove south. For the next 8(ish) hours, I was ensconsed in one of several motor vehicles; two from this area, another hailing from the backwaters of South Carolina. Reaching our destination, we assembled the group and, like wolves, nuzzled each pack member as they arrived - establishing the heirarchy so necessary to maintain order within the group. We hunkered down and awaited the coming day.
     July 20th was a bright and glorious morning, presaged by a spectacular dawn's early light, honoring the blessed event. Almanac references provide indisputable evidence that my birthday always boasts picture-perfect gorgeous weather; you're welcome! As is my custom, I rose early - primarily to ensure that no strays had wandered off from the pack during the night, but also to provide inspiration and set a good example for those around me. One by one, my companions stirred from their slumber and, for the most part, greeted me with the good tidings and affability that this august occasion calls for.
     The balance of the day, in fact, the balance of the trip, was spent on the links with the rest of the Dream Team; in addition to celebrating with me, Ping, Bearcat, and 'Pone entertained with equal measures of skillful play and hilarious flailings. Naturally, my game could be most charitably described as "uneven was dominant, but taking care not to overwhelm with artfully executed shots, I kept the governor on my performance. However, try as I might, I could only suppress my natural ability for so long, carding the low round of the week (80) featuring a beautiful 38 on the front nine. Sporting my traditional V for victory cap, I basked in the adulation that washed over me.
     After the round, I returned to find the distaff members of our troupe hard at work preparing a special birthday feast. This assembly line of exhausted pottery shoppers summoned their reserves in order to provide me with the sustenance necessary to operate at the highest of levels; obviously, they succeeded.
     Jocularity, athletic prowess and hero worship consumed the remainder of the trip. The subordinate members of the group spent much of their time attempting to curry my favor - with a modicum of success. Speed Week concluded on Monday, with yet another highlight reel performance on the links, and a gluteus-numbing return ride home.
     So there it is, a detailed recap of yet another killer chapter in my book of life. Those winners in life's lottery fortunate enough to play a small role in this episode will remember it always. Now, so can all of you. Sensation librement pour m'admire.........
   

Rick Warren Is Wrong

Whelps:
     OMG; the interest in all things Speed continues to build. Last month's post, highlighting the 2012 Killa Flotilla experience, has shattered all previous viewing records. Demonstrably, the worldwide web world just cannot get enough of me!

     Although the life of a rock star appeals to me - the love, the attenttion, the special treatment - I remain your humble servant, owing this uncharacteristically modest assertion to the diciplined training received from the good sisters at St. Michael the Archangel elementary school, during my tender years.
     This traipse down memory lane has led me to provide yet another glimpse into my world - this time, from an historical perspective. I suspect this will become a wildly popular feature, at once both inspirational and informative. Sharing some of my most significant life moments through the years should certainly assuage all but the most indifferent of dullards, fated to wander aimlessly through cyberspace. here goes:

THIS YEAR IN SPEED HISTORY

1950 - Nearly 2,000 years after the first, another wrapped in swaddling clothes arrived. My birth had been foretold for some time; doves were released simultaneously around the globe.
1965 - Demonstrating aplomb that David Niven would envy, I rebuffed the advances of a much older woman, setting myself firmly upon a lifelong path of virtue.
1971 - In a lovely service, officiated by representatives from two religious disciplines (to ensure that it took), I wed; coevally, she became both Mrs. Brisco & The Luckiest Woman Alive.
1977/1981 - Welcomed my progeny, thus launching my unending contribution to the elevation of the planet's average IQ.
1999 - Received international acclaim for developing software that was widely credited with preventing the much anticipated and universally dreaded Y2K meltdown; declined the Nobel Prize.
2010 - Jump started my moribund career with the initial publication of "Speed Stuff", the internet's answer to the question, "What does narcissism look like?" best kept secret.
2011 - Evidencing an ongoing defiance of the aging process that besets most, I was required to show proof of age to purchase alcohol.

     Understand that this was substantially more difficult than it appears (most of what I do is); paring my plethora of incredible life events down to a manageable few was exhausting.
     So, ruminate on this awhile. I urge you to resist the inexorable urge to measure your life's journey, by mine; nothing good can come of that. To whatever degree you're able, simply be quenched by the cool relief that vicarious experiences afford. 
     Subisto siccus meus amicitia.......