I first heard that New York was putting together a bit for the 2012 games some time in the late 1990's. I was thrilled. I had visions:
The stretch of the Brooklyn Queens Expressway called the Gowanus Expressway would have been completely redone. Built on the same trestles that once held the elevated train line over 3rd Avenue in Sunset Park (a neighborhood whose economic life was destroyed by the building of the highway above it, much as whole neighborhoods were gutted to create the Cross Bronx Expressway -- if you've seen Ken Burns' documentary you've heard that story), the highway is called the Gowanus because it goes over a polluted canal of that name. But the real reason, as I've told my kids, is that people always say, "I don't wanna go on 'is expressway!!!" It is the most evil stretch of road on the planet. My mantra for years, until they went with London, was "IOC come fix my roads!"
That second avenue subway line that started when Roosevelt was President? (The books say FDR, but I suspect it was really Teddy.) Done. Brand new. And all the other subway lines up and running at full capacity and not smelling of urine.
A full rebirth of Coney Island. Not just partial, half-starts. Brand new amusement parks. Maybe even real jobs for the poorer residents. (You know, just like Bruce Ratner promised with his whole Atlantic Yards project. What? did I say something funny?)
And yes, price-gouging everywhere! Oh, yes, I'd have rented my house for the month and made a bundle! I'd have provided car service to the venues! Sold shirts from my stoop!
It would have been glorious. And I was sure we had a good shot; after all the IOC is supposedly a pretty corrupt organization, susceptible to bribery, and who better than New York City politicians to pull something like that off? Sadly, Ed Koch was no longer Mayor during this process. Alas, it was not to be. London got the Games.
I actually traveled to London last year, and I could not really tell you if its infrastructure had been markedly improved because of the Olympics. But of course, I don't live there. I would have noticed the impact had NYC been chosen.
My home's loss probably contributed to why I didn't watch a moment of the games or any of the ceremonies as they happened (or as they tape-delayed broadcast on NBC). But then again, I've really not paid all that much attention to the Olympics since the original Dream Team. It was a comment a friend of mine made on Facebook that drew me to skimming some videos of the closing ceremonies, and my sadness was rekindled a bit.
My friend was complaining because she'd found out after watching NBC's coverage that the network cut Ray Davies' performance of "Waterloo Sunset" and a few other great moments to make room for promoting a new sitcom. Not everyone was happy with the whole ceremony, as one blog suggests. (NBC has taken a beating in the twittersphere, but they did have the last laugh: ratings were phenomenal.) As I went to YouTube to see it for myself, I could not help but smile wistfully, as Ray got out of that limo to roaring applause and sang the loveliest English ballad of the 20th century. (I use the term "ballad" in its traditional sense.) It was so sweet to hear the crowd sha-la-la-ing together, a collective celebration with a song all about loneliness. And as I saw the clip of John performing "Imagine," I began to think about what the NYC 2012 Olympic closing ceremony would have looked like...
The video screen slowly fades in to an early sunrise. And yes, it's Henry Mancini's score, minus Johnny Mercer's words. And Audrey Hepburn gets out of the the old yellow cab, right in front of Tiffany's.
Segue into Gershwin, and the black and white cinematography of Gordon Willis as Woody Allen gushes on about adoring Manhattan.
Follow it with Bill Lee's jazzy score: Bed-Stuy in the heat, a slow mo of the fire hydrant cooling off the 'hood.
Suddenly, the Bee Gees. And Travolta in the white suit. You should be dancing.
Finally, on the stage in Central Park, Paul and Artie sing a song about a bridge to Queens. Or maybe singing about counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike. Followed by:
A nervous twitching David Byrne suddenly appearing on stage, "this ain't no Mudd Club, or CBGB, I ain't got time for that now..."
A video montage set to Petula Clark's "Downtown."
Some version of the Drifters -- there are about thirty different groups out there touring under that name -- singing "On Broadway."
The gal from Brooklyn named Carole, singing that there's room enough for two up on the roof.
A fond video remembrance of Joey, Dee Dee and Johnny, performing "Rockaway Beach."
John and John, once from New England, now the pride of Brooklyn: They Might Be Giants. let em sing whatever they want!
Lots of breakdancing. As long as the phrase "Electric Boogaloo" appears somewhere in neon.
And then maybe Lou Reed gets everyone to sha-la-la-la to his great New York ballad: "Street Hassle."
Of course, none that would have really happened. Though maybe Bruce would have sung about being frozen out on 10th avenue.
But at least I could have seen it all from up on the roof somewhere overlooking the brand new Gowanus Expressway. The stars putting on a show for free.
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