Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Quelle Horreur

I'm going to let you in on a secret that might have me ostracized world wide. 

I really don't care about the Olympics. collective gasp

Don't care to watch. Don't care who wins.

I don't think that makes me un- American. Or even un-Chinese, un-Russian, un-Greek and un-every-other-country-in-the-world. And not even un-Olympic.

It's not as if I don't think they are worthwhile and important. It's just that I have no interest in watching them. I don't bother watching other sports, so why should I start now?

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for flexing our country's athletic prowess and some healthy competition, but I don't want to spend hours watching each event. Just listening to the commentators is torture in its own right.

The last few weeks have been an Olympics overload on the senses. The television figuratively vomiting the subject from every orifice. I'm sure my Toshiba would do it literally if it could. 

At dinner one night in Tulsa, our table was flanked by giant televisions replaying momentous Olympic achievemenets like Keri Strug's historic vault. It was also discussed at dinner that Olympian Shannon Miller was from a small Oklahoma town nearby. In the hotel room, Lola and Raquel watched events and marveled over Oscar Pistorius. (I couldn't remember his name so I literally had to google 'who was the no legged Olympian in the 2012 Olympics' #goingtohell)

The news reported on who won which events regularly. Networks aired triumphs and tragedies of Olympics past. Facebook was a flutter with posts about the opening ceremonies and dismay with the time delay.

It has been one giant voyeuristic Olympic orgy.

When it's over just let me know the number of gold medals we won so I can start wagering on how many will be revoked for scandals like steroid use, intelligibility due to sexual re-assignment surgery or inappropriate texting of wing wang photos aka behavior unbecoming of an Olympian.

Now, if they added some events like wine tasting, name that tune and power shoe shopping before your demonic toddler throws a tantrum in the store, I may be down to watch. Or enter.

Or how about an event where participants must make an edible and appealing dinner using the sparse ingredients of a semi-empty fridge and pantry in 30 minutes ala Chopped. While hurdling small children and pets. And refereeing sibling smack-downs. And yelling at a husband to turn down the volume on the god damned television.

I would totally watch that shit.

Even the Queen is bored.

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