I'm tantalized by Planet China. 
Ever since my university independent study on the Sino-Soviet conflict, Mao Tse-tung, and the Cultural Revolution, ever since the table-tennis match and Nixon's visit, I've been fascinated with that Quiet Giant composing one-fifth of the world's population. I disdain the communistic thought control yet I am in awe of the culture and the physical beauty of the country. I worry about China's emergence as a powerful leader into the world market buying up U.S. Treasury Bonds as we sink deeper into debt.
But, hey, TGIF! The Olympic opening ceremonies are on TV tonight. I've been looking forward to these for months...years. The Olympics are incredible enough, but from China? It's probably one of the most significant events in the history of human civilization. I am exhausted and stressed from work and I want to get home and watch the extravaganza!
I can't wait!
And there it is on the big screen! Beijing and the massive architectural wonder of a Bird's Nest where ninety thousand athletes, dignitaries and spectators from every country in the world are converging in 65% humidity as a statement of global unity! The promise of the future of mankind! I am transfixed. Only fire, flood, or pestilence will steal me from this pleasure! Bring it on!
An hour later, I haven't blinked. I am mesmerized by the performers, the children, the costumes, the colors, the faces. I am watching George W and Vladimir Putin on camera 'yuckin it up in their stadium seats. Suddenly I hear blaring alarms. The TV screen goes black and a bold message appears across it. "What's this?!" I think to myself. "Am I witnessing the Chinese censoring of American television?"
Not so lucky! It's a Civil Defense weather warning. "A dangerous storm is passing over certain parts of the city." "FLOODING IS IMMINENT!", it yells at me.
"Is it raining?" I'm downstairs totally unaware. And within seconds, Niagara Falls breaks through the windows and water is pouring into the basement! "HELP ME!", I scream. The family bursts into action. Buckets, mops, towels, fans. My husband is outside in the torrential rain looking like a sailor bailing out his ship to keep it from sinking.
Another hour later the storm passes and the flooding is over. And so are my Olympic opening ceremonies. I'm exhausted from sopping up gallons of water and running up and down the stairs.
But, hey! Ninety thousand people may be sweatin' the big stuff in the Beijing humidity, but I ain't sweatin' the small stuff here in the States. What's so bad about a couple of rooms with soaking wet carpeting that already smell of mildew? Through the wonders of cable video, the hoopla has been magically recorded and I can still watch it, tomorrow, commercial free, with the push of a button.
And...I can't wait!
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