by William Godwin
One moment in time… I've got this song going through my head as I stroll, sun blazing, towards my south circular vantage point for the Torch. It is so nice to finally see the sun, it really is. I walked in to work, worried that getting into the car park would be a nightmare, and that all the roads in the locale would be marshaled by burly outriders roughly blocking my passage and manhandling me at every turn, but unfortunately all was normal, and If I'd had a blue badge I could have even parked right outside the Town Hall if the fancy had taken me. But there were loads of people around, and the Torch route was satisfactorily lined with kiddies and old people alike, and they all seemed quite cheery even though it was far too early and they hadn't been given anything free yet. Quite a few of them had union jacks (or union flags as we now call them), and a couple had stuff with Lisa Simpson committing a sexual act on them.
So
 before you actually see the torch (and I'm not sure I did actually see 
the Torch mind, one photo came out black, and the other had a big head 
in the way) there's all sorts of tomfoolery. First of all there are a 
number of support vehicles. I'm not sure whether I'm allowed to use the 
word vehicle - I'll check with LOCOG. Some have got tea ladies in, some 
have got people with puncture repair kits in, then there's one with all 
the lovely torchbearers being bussed to their drop off points in the 
next borough - very much like the shopping service we run for old 
ladies. 
Then there's another one, not sure what that one was for 
although it says 'Your moment to shine' on the side of it which chimes 
in well with my humming. My moment to shine... well today it's all about
 my new tie  - gorgeous, certainly the smartest tie this side of 
Dulwich. Then there are sponsor lorries. Like pride, but with fewer 
homosexuals. All the 'extras' are doing their best to channel a carnival
 atmosphere by waving pom poms, swishing their hair playfully to over 
loud Heart FM stylee music, smiling stage school smiles, and someone, 
someone even said over a megaphone…. 'Lovin' the noise'.  Somebody shoot
 me - at least if it had been ITV I could have turned over. So there is a
 Samsung lorry, then a Coke Lorry and then a Lloyds Lorry, then there's 
another van carrying spare grey-shorted security people in case any of 
the running ones pop a vein. Then there are some more lollipop ladies, 
then a film crew, and then, then the shell suited flamer (and I've known a
 couple of them in my time) themselves. 
Apparently they were standing just 
near me for a couple of minutes lighting up, but I missed all that as I 
was busy enjoying the sunshine, the roar of the greasepaint and avoiding
 getting touched by anyone in the crowd.
And
 the low point? Well for me, apart from the strong urge to take my own 
life when the man shouted 'Lovin' the noise', it was probably not 
getting a free Frisbee.
 
Although
 not wild about the outfit, I'm surprised I wasn't asked to be a torch 
bearer, and now that I know that you get to keep the torch, and you were
 allowed to nominate yourself, well, it seems like a lost opportunity if
 you ask me. And maybe if not a torch bearer then perhaps a volunteer. I
 said to my brother at the weekend, that's not his name, it's a calendar
 identifier, that we should have applied to be dream catchers, or dust 
makers or whatever they are, and then we could have had a lovely 
contrast trimmed trilby (could be a new euphemism) and a coordinating 
fleece with NEXT on the lapel. I really could have had my moment in time
 then, my moment to shine, new tie or no new tie?
 
So
 up west it's all about union jacks and things on lamp posts - a lot of 
them let over from the jubilee I know, but the Queen doesn't mind and 
it's cheaper not to have to take them down betwixt events - much like my
 Christmas decorations. All sorts of artistic japes and hoots going on 
in the name of T'Lympics festival - painted phone boxes, people in hats,
 and lots of other things like that. Many of the dust catchers look a bit 
churchy and over keen though, which did put me off a bit. If you're 
going to be sharing a mini bus with someone from zone 3 you need to be 
able to rub along and like the same sort of sandwiches. But I suppose a 
free big Mac's, a free big Mac, whether or not the Lord's (Jesus not 
Coe) work is affected by your additional time commitments.
 
I'm
 not sure these Games Lanes are going to work though, although I am very
 taken with the name, 'Games Lane' - perhaps my favourite bit of the 
programme so far. I was traversing adjacent to the Olympic Village 
yesterday evening, and behind a Hungary support BMW if the truth be told
 - just to check on things for you and wink at the armed police, and 
it's all games lanes this, games lanes that. And they swap over from the
 left to the right and back again, so staying in the correct lane could 
increase the chances of travel sickness for a young or an invalid if you
 ask me. You're allowed to use them until Wednesday, but I wasn't taking
 any chances as I didn’t want to get a ticket on a school night and the 
last time I swerved that much I closed the M40 for half an hour. But by 
George, I'm not going out in my car once it all starts. London roads are
 going to be a frigging nightmare. I'm tellin' you. Lovin' the noise? 
Maybe, Lovin' the traffic - not on your Nellie!
 
So
 to conclude, I only have one remaining question and that is 'do the 
Athletes from London have to stay in the Olympics village or can they 
stay with their mum and just get the bus in for their races?' I think we
 should be told.
William Godwin is a local government liaison to the commonwealth, confirmed bachelor, and hand model. He resides in London, and is the publisher of Get Mummy's Purse. 
 
 



 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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