At the Motown sing-along tonight there was a guy wearing pleated-front, high-wasted khakis and a black short-sleeved mock turtle neck. He also had red hair and wore glasses that looked like they were around in the Clinton administration. And yet he was singing and dancing like he was a Pip and this was Showtime at the Apollo. It was glorious. And it epitomized exactly why I love these things so much. Because he wasn't the only one singing and dancing. We all were. It was the Apollo in all of our minds. It may have been the most fun I've had at a sing-along ever.
I'm off to Utah to kiss on my niece and nephews. When I return we will commence the Fortnight of Nothing But Olympic Blog Posts. You better light the Olympic torch in your heart, people, because I won't restrain my enthusiasm.