Welcome to a new blog addition! Click the play arrow inside the “chatterbox” to hear the squirrel chatter. (Actually, it’s just Amy J. reading her blog to you.)
All four human beings who dwell in this establishment now face a challenge each and every night.
Just as you suspected, Dear Reader, I’m referring to the Winter Olympics. Like a moth drawn to the icy flame, the minute we hear the drums and trumpets of the Olympic theme song, we scurry toward the TV. I really know nothing about any of the events, so that makes it the perfect topic on which to reflect for my blog. Take the mogul skiing, or as I like to call it, “The-jar-your-brain-on-a-hill-event.” My body aches just watching them ski. During the event a friend texted me, “I literally just blew my knee out seven times while watching the moguls.”
My son and I were trying to figure out the loophole we could slip through so we could become Winter Olympians. He thinks his best shot is to be the number two or three man on a four-man bobsled team. We have yet to figure out the official job of the number two and three riders, so Cam thinks that position has potential for him.
It’s a little less promising for me. One, I’m literally terrified to try any sport on ice or snow. Two, I absolutely hate the cold. It is not lost on me, Dear Reader, that I live in northern Indiana. I’m basically cold for six straight months. I put on my housecoat in October and don’t take it off until April. The thought of having to participate in activities in the snow and ice is enough to set my teeth chattering just thinking about it. But I’m an eternal optimist, so I’m still willing to keep my Winter Olympic dream alive! I actually think my skill set lends itself more to being an actor in an opening or closing ceremony in some skit no one can understand unless four television commentators are explaining it. That, or I could be one of the cheerleaders who stands on the track who smiles, cheers, and bops up and down for three straight hours while the athletes enter the stadium. Now THAT has potential for me!
All four members of my family are fascinated with ski jumping where they fly off a mountain and glide for what seems an eternity. My son wonders exactly how one gets involved in that sport. Does a kid just tell his parents one day that he plans to go ski off a cliff and his mom says, “OK?”
Chad Jagger’s greatest frustration is figure skating. He thinks it receives way too much TV coverage, and after the team skating competition, my husband felt the whole thing was rigged.
“This is rigged!” he cried. I tried to calm him down a bit, but it’s truly difficult to understand why someone who falls multiple times receives a higher score than someone who stays upright the entire program. I’ve watched every Olympics since 1976, and I still don’t understand a triple salchow. In fact, until writing this article, I thought it was spelled “sow cow,” as I’d never actually seen the words in print.
And, as I have ADD and my mind tends to wander, why is it called “figure skating?” What are we figuring? That someone will fall? Does skating help people have a better figure? These are the “insights” which literally entertain me for hours as I watch the Olympic coverage. These are the same “insights” which make my husband roll his eyes.
Not everyone always appreciates “insight.”
I’m an equal-opportunity cheerer. Sure, it’s nice when someone from the USA wins, but I cheer when any athlete performs well, and I let out a huge “ugh” when any athlete falls. I don’t think I can relate to someone who cheers against an athlete just because of his or her country of origin. But if I see that an athlete has been rude or cruel in an interview or in competition, boom! I’m done. I’ll cheer for you if you to have a gracious attitude. That will trump your country of origin every time.
My children are supposed to be strongly finishing their current trimester of high school. How do I explain to their teachers that watching snowboarding each and every night is ruining their academic pursuit? My husband is supposed to be doing engineer things at his engineer place of employment. How does he explain to his boss that he can’t do engineer things because he had to stay up the night before so that he could make sure the Alpine skiing conditions were just right for the skiers?
Whew . . . thank goodness all this work my family is doing for the Winter Olympics only comes once every four years!
Until next Wednesday, Lord willing, when we’ll hear that famous song, “I’ve got peas like a river.” Not everything we adults are trying to instill in our children always connects.