When my bishop announced the memo from Prophet, Seer and Revelator Hinckley, my heart did swell. Not only that, there was a burning in my bosom.
I had been hoping the prophet would give his blessing to the 2002 Winter Games. Now, as the sun shone through the ward window and my bishop squinted and children squalled, we were extended the invitation to sustain Brother Joklik, partake of the Olympic Spirit and sign up as Olympic volunteers.
Although I make it a practice to refrain from everything on Sunday except studying the figure skaters on TV and polishing my Olympic commemorative pins, I rushed to my computer to call up the 2002 Games website, eager to fill out the application form to become a volunteer.
Let me warn potential volunteers in advance: It takes a heck of a lot of time for the website to load, longer even than sites such as www.sexslaves.com, and then you have to endure several minutes of spooky graphics before you can click to the application form.
I couldn’t tell what was going on exactly, but there were code words of some sort in giant letters — contrast, culture, cumorah — as well as some artsy pictures of running horses, Lamanite petroglyphs, crouching skiers, and a brief shot of Deedee Corradini sunbathing in Gallivan Plaza.
Another warning: My software to detect subliminal messages alerted me to micro-second flashes of the following commands: , and .
Eventually I got to the application form and spent several hours filling it out, letting the spirit move me to find the correct answers. It was such a hassle applying that I phoned up the personnel department over at the Olympics office, and a nice fellow named Ed Eggnog gave me permission to reprint the application here; so all you have to do is tear it out after you’ve finished and drop it off at 257 E. 200 South. Here’s the application in full:
