An Open Letter to the US Olympic Committee

Dear USOC

As we prepare for the Olympic Games this summer in London, I wish to offer my services for your consideration. I have a talent that will surely benefit the US team.  Let me explain.

Last night my family and I took a visitor out to dinner at Bus Boys and Poets.  We had good conversation, some meatloaf, and a couple of pints of Sam Adams. It was a fine repast.  I crashed a little after midnight.  This alone put my plans for a 70 mile Saturday ride in jeopardy.

I woke up about 6 hours later, determined not to go back to sleep because my daughter had to get up early to take her SAT tests.  I needn't have worried as my wife was up at 7 anyway.  I spent the early morning hours reading the paper and doing crossword puzzles. At 9:30 I took the filters out of the furnace and washed them on the back patio.

Then I cleaned and lubed the chain on the Sequoia in reward for its splendid service this past week.

On to the lawn. I mowed the lawn as the temperature and humidity rose.  I was soaked in sweat by the time the twine ran out in my trimmer.  This necessitated a trip to the hardware store.

Middle Aged Man from SNL

So I pulled out the Sequoia and took off for my LHS (local hardware store).  They didn't have the twine cartridge for my trimmer so, after a stop at the pharmacy, to re-order some eye drops, I took off for The Home Depot. (I hate how they use the definite article in the title, as if there would be some ambiguity without it.) Riding a bike to a suburban home depot is an exercise in insanity.  It's like riding through a herd of elephants. SUVs everywhere, all trying to get to that parking space nearest the door.  I pulled up next to the entrance and locked my bike. I was in and out of the place in a flash.

The ride home was like being in a sick video game where all the players were trying to get more points by running over the bicyclist and his spool of twine.  I managed to extricate myself from the land of the strip mall and stopped at Sherwood Hall Gourmet for my favorite sammich, a Gary's Lunchbox.  In minutes I was at home enjoying a lunch that, like Alice's Thanksgiving dinner, couldn't be beat and thankful that I didn't have to go pick up the garbage.

During my foray, the thermometer on my bike topped out at 104 degrees.  That's what paving suburbia does.  The air temperature was around 85 in my yard but out in Car Nation it was 20 degrees hotter. 

I finished lunch and then did the trimming.

Ta Da. Chores done.


Now I know there are no Olympic events for lawn mowing or spool shopping or sammich eating; so, why am I writing?

After the finals of the heavyweight singles male weed whacking event, I sat down to take in the radar on my TV in anticipation of that 70 mile ride. My ADD gene kicked in and I was soon flipping between the Nationals' and the Capitals' games.  They were great games. I was really getting into it. Then, suddenly it was two hours later.  I had fallen fast asleep.  The good news is that both the Nationals and the Capitals won.

USOC, if you want to win the Olympics this summer. you should fly me to London. I'll happily nap through all the important events like the 5,000 meter steeplechase and the little girls with the twirling thingies gymnastics events. And the Americans will win. (USA! USA!)

My fee is negotiable.

I'll ride tomorrow.

Very truly yours,

Rootchopper