I’m not sure that the London 2012 Olympic Games opening ceremony was the most exciting opening ceremony to signal the beginning of the Olympic Games. (Perhaps you had to be there in person to capture its true essence.) But it sure made me proud to be British.
The ceremony started at 1 pm Vancouver time. Which meant that we didn’t actually watch it live. We just taped it and watched it later that evening with popcorn for the kids and a huge glass of Sauvignon Blanc for mummy.
One of my husband’s more quirkier personality traits, which I’ve always found extremely amusing, is his ‘Canadia-dar’. Yes, I’m making up my own words but I don’t know how else to describe this particular talent.
A Canadia-dar is a bit like a gaydar except inside of intuitively knowing the sexual orientation of someone you have just met, my husband can detect whether they are Canadian or not.
Ever since I met him, I’ve been subjected to hearing his voice piping up from out of nowhere, with an informative, “She’s Canadian.” Or “He’s from Saskatchewan.” Or “A Canadian first invented that.”
I could be watching a movie or listening to the radio in the car or flicking through a trashy magazine, basically minding my own business, but my husband always feels the need to educate me on all the Canadian greats. With the exception of Celene Dion. She never gets a mention.
Anyway, I’ve always found it both extremely fascinating and infuriatingly irritating that he feels the need to spread the word about his country’s most famous personalities. But last night, watching the opening ceremony, I turned into my husband. I morphed into Cliff Clay. I started bragging about all that is great about Britain. Fuelled by both a bottle of wine and Danny Boyle’s vision I became the female equivalent of Cliff.