I Did the Hammer Dance on Dutch Television

I went with friends to the Holland house last night. This is the hang out for Dutch spectators and athletes. There’s a cafe, a restaurant, a beer garden and a big dance club all under a big outdoor tent or within temporary walls. Huge place – and it was packed by 11pm, afterwards they were only taking Dutch citizens in.

Some girl made a joke at my expense about my lack of height, but if anybody knows Dutch people and how tall they usually are, you’ll understand that this joke was only relative to the situation. Anyway, I think she really wanted me – so to spite her I went home totally alone. Ha! I showed her! I bet she was mad.

And then I did the Hammer Dance on Dutch television. It couldn’t be helped. M.C. Hammer came on the speakers and before I knew it the camera was on me and the next couple of minutes are just a blur. I’m told that it was during that time that the Hammer Dance happened. My friends tell me I was great. The tall girl from the previous paragraph was giving me a funny look. Eat your heart out loser.

The band that I play keyboard with is the show band on the ship. The individual members of the band are named David, David, Chris and Chris (and our musical director, Greg). Amazing, eh? Amazing, like: “well, that’s pretty stupid.” Yes, amazing like that.

Today us David’s went to go see the beach volleyball competition. There’s a big controversy at the Olympics now (you may have heard about this) that the Athens organizers gathered together 12 of the hottest Greek women I will ever get within 10 years of and made them bikini-clad dancers for the beach volleyball competitions – for during timeouts and such. MAY THE HOLY LORD IN HEAVEN BLESS THE ATHENS ORGANIZERS FOR THEIR FINE WORK.

If the final match of the afternoon, Germany narrowly, but strongly, beat out the Brazilian favorites amidst cat calls from the drunk guys in the cheap seats. The drunk guys were from Boston I later found out (they left the stadium yelling, “WOO-HOO GO REDSOX!! YEAH!! REDSOX!!”). So much for what I wrote the other day about Americans being quiet at the games this year. Be careful what you wish for I guess.

We got to and away from the beach volleyball stadium by way of Tram #2, better known as the Tram of Death – of which I wrote of earlier in the post “Your Own Olympic Transportation Kit.” I was unpleasantly surprised to see that the Tram of Death had not improved in it’s conditions, but had actually become terminally worse during the course of the first week’s games. The air in the tram has become so think that it has turned into a sort of creamy texture. The creamy air streams into your nostrils and mouth and fills your lungs with the heavy smell, like the dung of of a thousand small kittens. Again I felt suicidal. I also found that the air conditioning – apparently not able to drain correctly – now drains directly from the holes in the ceiling of the tram onto the helpless prisoners underneath. It comes pouring out whenever it comes to it’s frequent and abrupt stops. I tried successfully not to alleviate my nausea. But then some terrible person passed gas and I just about lost it.

On a brighter note, dinner tonight was at a beach cafe as the sun set over the mountains that surround Athens. Just beautiful.