There's a fat tan man (in Manhattan, yes) on a deck next to the construction site out my office window, who sits shirtless in the early afternoon reading magazines while two small dogs chase each other around him and back into the apartment through the sliding glass door. Sometimes a woman in nurse's whites brings him a drink or a shirt. He must be annoyed by the construction dust.
I remember noticing in, oh, must have been 1996, that around Olympics time, "Olympic" becomes a very popular adjective. It gets trotted out and flung about, then shelved for another two years. I find it very interesting.
About half of those are in my neighborhood. You can see just the corner of one building, that a piece fell off the top floor, and landed with an explosion between me and a baby carriage. I have the piece that fell in my fish tank.