The booger in the pool is way more important to me than what place I came in at the 1988 or 1992 trials.
On June 2, as the torch bobbed along the avenues of Stornoway, what was I doing? According to my journal, I embraced life with ‘2 naps. Turkey club. Vague sense of unease.’ How did I occupy myself on June 20, when the torch was Leyburn-bound? ‘A real 3-napper. Shooed some pigeons from the fire escape. Whispered, ‘Am I falling apart?’ while I scooped a clump of hair from the bathtub drain.’ As the relay hit Potternewton, I have, simply, ‘Croatoan.’ The relay path described a map of my unworthiness.
Colson Whitehead visited the London Olympics. (We hear they get pretty freaky in that Village over there…)
Still trying to wrap your head around this year’s Olympics Opening Ceremony? We’ve got some analysis to help you parse the madness.
Fun Fact: “Literature” used to be an Olympic event.
Oops. This is why editors are important.
