I’m sitting here more dazed and confused than usual. And I’m pretty sure the winter Olympics has something to do with it . . . . . . .
I guess the spiral my mind is in started much earlier than just two weeks ago. It began when things saying “Vancouver 2010” started popping up on t.v. and other places. My immediate reaction for at least a month was, “What in the heck is going on in Vancouver that’s so impressive it’s getting national media attention? Are we all gonna die or something?” For those of you who don’t know, I live in the original Vancouver – the one in Washington state, the one 50 years older than the other Vancouver. Hmm, never heard of my city? Don’t feel bad, half the people in the state don’t know we’re here. To be honest, when we’re on vacation and we meet fellow Washingtonians and I have to explain where we’re from, it gets tedious. We’re the fourth largest city in the state . . . . not like some podunk little outpost on the side of a highway.
Once I got it all straightened out in my mind I started to get excited. For the first time in my life, the Olympics were being held in the same time zone that I lived in. Do you realize what that means? No irritating delays! Being able to see the events as they happen! Not accidentally finding results on the internet and ruining my watching of said Olympics! It was like a dream!
And that’s exactly what it turned out to be, one big dream. We in the Pacific time zone have to wait with the rest of the country and stay up until all hours of the night to see our favorite events. Burns my biscuts that we have to wait for everything so the east coast can see it, too. What’s it like to be worshipped, east coast? I’d like to know.
Other than having to stay up until midnight nearly every night, these Olympics have been fun. Not so fun was the Georgian luger who was killed before the games started. Did you see his fellow countrymen and women as they came in the stadium on opening night? Talk about heartbreaking. My son saw the replay of the wreck and because of that said he needed to get a helmet for snowboarding. I was so proud of him. (And, no, I’ve never made him wear a helmet when he goes snowboarding. But he has to wear one for biking and skateboarding. There aren’t any cars on the mountain that could kill him.) So God bless you, Nodar Kumaritashvili. I wish you had never been killed . . . . thank you for your inspiration to my son.
And then there was the snowboard cross and the half-pipe. Did you SEE Shaun White?? I kept rewinding and watching him again and again to see just how high he went compared to the other competitors. Absolutely amazing. But it leads me to one question: Is he really a robot?
Watching the figure skating (not ice dancing – snore) has been bittersweet. My mom loved figure skating. I vividly remember watching Dorothy Hamill win her gold medal in 1976. I have been to more Ice Capades and Stars on Ice than I can remember. I have watched copious amounts of ice skating with my mom. Critiquing the costumes, makeup, hair, how gay the guys were (oops, did I really type that?), etc. It was bitter because I don’t have my mom to talk to about all that stuff. But sweet because I have so many happy memories of her and Olympic skating. And I get to make those same sorts of memories with my daughter.
**Confession time. Earlier I made a reference to ice dancing putting me to sleep. I stayed up and watched that one, too, until midnight. I’m addicted.**
There was no way I was going to miss a second of the women’s figure skating. It was wonderful. Kim Yu-na is a fluffy, floaty, gossamer dream on the ice. No one had a chance against her. I’m so glad she won. It broke my heart to hear that when she came in second she didn’t get any congratulations. I’m so glad I don’t live in a shame based culture. I was giddy over her win! And the sweet girl from Canada whose mom had just died, Joannie Rochette. The commentators (more on THEM later) kept saying, “How can she do it,” and other things of the same vein. OH, I’ll tell you how she can do it. She’s in shock. It’s the only way you get through the first few weeks of the death of a very close loved one.
And now to the worst part of the Olympics for me, the commentators. Come ON! The only one I can stand is Scott Hamilton. Everyone else’s remarks have just been ridiculous. One lady commenting on a very young mens figure skater said he was “not fully baked,” and would mature over the next four years. Not fully baked? Who says that on national t.v.? Even one of my cousins commented on Facebook, “Is it just me or are all the Olympic commentator this year a bunch of nobs?”
That’s why I’m so tired. I’ve been staying up super late to watch the Olympics (and I will tonight – Go Apolo!). Getting up and getting school going has been interesting. And today was my day to take veggies for the teacher break room at Friday school, which I forgot. Thankfully I remembered a couple of days ago and bought two trays. I just had to zoom home after chapel and bring them back. Aren’t you glad you read those last three sentences? Riveting I tell ya, downright riveting.