It's Just One Big Party Around Here

    From the time we moved here nearly a year ago until the end of July, we had no television reception. Our TV sat in the basement, used for weekend movies and periodic episodes of Sherlock, Andy Griffith, and Lost. In all those months, I experienced not a single moment of longing for network television. Two weeks ago, though, all that changed. I called our cell phone company to order streaming television coverage. I not only okayed rearranging the living room to accommodate the set, but I carried the massive thing upstairs myself (aided by Drew). And I plunked myself down on the sofa for more hours than I have in years. All of this was spurred on, of course, by the 2012 Olympic Games.
     For our family, these games have been the best ever. For one thing, the kids are old enough to have their favorite sports (Drew: Swimming; Johanna: Track and Field -- called "Athletics" by the BBC; Lucas: Basketball and Boxing). Our whole family loves distance running. We watched the men's 10,000 meters live, late one night, and I cannot believe that our elated screams at seeing an American place in that event for the first time in more than 50 years didn't bring the police to our door. Just to show we're not completely nationalistic, we were yelling equally for the Brit who beat him. My other favorite finish was the women's triathlon, in which the American came from behind to catch the lead three, only to be outsprinted in a nail-biting close. I wasn't happy to see her miss out on a medal, but at the same time I was delighted to see Switzerland win a gold and Sweden win a silver, as those are two other countries I cheer for whenever possible (along with the Netherlands). The other thing that made this Olympics the best for us was that we watched it in real time, all day, on the BBC. We loved the coverage, which was enthusiastically patriotic but not overbearing. "Chariots of Fire" at the medal ceremonies was stirring every time. Also, really, I never realized the great commentary I was missing on U.S. television. I've never before heard anything to match, "What a brilliant swim! Oh my goodness me!" or "He not only broke the record; he smashed it asunder!" Nor have I heard as many delightfully articulate speeches from athletes who didn't win, but were so happy to have participated. (When the focus shifted from swimming, and the U.K. started raking in the medals, those speeches slowed somewhat.) We loved South African swimmer's Chad Le Clos's dad, who couldn't stop talking about what a "beautiful boy"his son was. We loved watching Kenyan David Rudisha quietly dominate the men's 800 meters. And okay, we loved Usain Bolt's antics -- and athleticism -- as well.
     I'll admit that there is something ironic about the fact that I have been parked in front of a screen for hours each day, eating ice cream and jelly beans, all for the purpose of watching people who are in outstanding physical condition do amazing feats of athleticism. It's ironic, but oh so fun. And now that the closing ceremonies have ended, I will get off the couch and take a jog.

       We have taken some brief pauses in our Olympic immersion experience to experience the other big event of the summer around here -- the Fête de Genève. For the first two weeks of August, the lakefront is transformed into a giant carnival, with rides, food booths, and bands. The rides and food were ridiculously overpriced. (A friend said, of Geneva prices in general, "Think of the most you could possibly pay for something . . . then double it." He's from London. When you're from the U.S., you triple it.) Nonetheless, two parts of the fête were completely worth it. Saturday night we climbed a hill in Bernex, the town just next to Onex, and watched what is touted as the world's second-largest fireworks display. It was 50 minutes of nonstop color and light, and though our view was not up close, it was hassle free. Drew opted for the in-town view, meeting friends close to the lake. He was in the center of the sound and fury, but had to run almost three miles home afterwards, as all the trams were stuffed to capacity. His jog was spurred into a sprint by repeated texts from Dad: "Where are you?" "What are you doing?" and "You need to be home NOW!" Drew's exhaustion upon entering the house was worthy of an Olympic marathon.
        The other great part of the fête took place Sunday afternoon. Waiters and waitresses from all of Geneva's restaurants lined up carrying trays for the 16th annual Cours des Garçons de Café.

The waiters prepare for the event with a quick smoke. Clearly, the standards here are not quite Olympic.

Moving quickly along a 1.8k course carrying a loaded tray is not a walk in the park, however. By the end, the  participants were sweaty and worn. The full-dress outfits didn't help.

The leading servuese

          The course record for this event is just over 10 minutes. Whoever did that must have been jogging, because 1.8k is over a mile. No one ran this time, though, and we were very disappointed to see several people cheat by rearranging their bottles and glasses or holding the tray with two hands. Nonetheless, it was not an event I would have done well in, so who am I to snipe? Maybe instead of that jog, I'll head out for a power walk with a tray in my hand. Then when Rio adds Waiter Racing to the 2016 Olympics, I'll be ready.