Some Olympic Thoughts

Now that the Olympics are over, I'm feeling decidedly idealist.

What a joy they can be. We remember, again, every two years, that even though governments do their worst and sour us against our neighbors, people are people. They're always happy to show you their culture, their heritage, their heart. They want to show the best of who they are. Sure, it's different, but isn't that okay? And in a lot of ways, aren't we alike as well? I was reminded watching the Chinese pop singers, that we're not that different even if our languages are literally worlds apart. (They like their pop stars pretty and thin too. What a concept!) We get a chance to see the beauty of a new place, the old and new of a country we may never see with our own eyes.

For two weeks the world is literally a smaller, more intimate place. If we did this more often than every two years - including Winter and Summer Games - it wouldn't have the same impact. For two weeks we can leave politics at home, and be proud of who we are and where we came from, and be proud of those who make it this far, even if they never win a medal. Remember that guy who could hardly swim four years ago, much less compete against the Michael Phelpses of the world? Remember how everybody cheered him on? Who cares where he was from? We could all get behind him. He'd struggled to get this far and he might never see another pool ever again, but we were there, rooting for him all the way. I think even Michael would cheer for him.

That's the beauty of the fact that this ideal has survived so many years, so much chaos and war and political struggle. We can root for each other, even for a short time. I love seeing athletes from different countries talking, joking around, kissing each other on the cheek, and taking pictures together, even dancing. They almost always congratulate the winners with respect and sometimes even affection. (A lot of that may have to do with the fact that some athletes train here in the States, regardless of who they compete for.)

I'm thrilled to see some Middle Eastern countries allowing women to compete. I love seeing what people are wearing during the Opening and Closing Ceremonies and their pride for their country. I even love it when the US doesn't win everything. That's perfectly okay with me, even though I'm inclined to root for the US athlete even without knowing anything about him or her. But I honestly don't care if we win the medal race. What's the big deal? It's all down to the individual. That's what's important.

Admittedly, having the Olympic spotlight on your country shows its worst as well. But for two whole weeks, we may compete as a country, but aren't you upset when someone falls or fails? Regardless of where they're from? (I remember wincing and yelping when a Chinese gymnast fell off the rings, and I was glad he got up okay.)

This may be the closest we ever come to world peace. But for at least two weeks, it feels like it's truly possible.

Thoughts on the Olympics

Random thoughts about the Olympics:

- The guy who announces the beach volleyball just slays me. I can't always understand everything he says, but he says it with such enthusiasm that it cracks me up. He's got that crowd hooting and hollering for their favorite team, probably in at least two languages, and he's so enthusiastic it's hilarious - he never wanes. Even in the pouring rain.

- Whenever somebody starts to cry, I get all sniffly. Whether it's gymnast Jonathan Horton's parents clutching at each other and sobbing happily at his medal or platform diver Haley Ishimatsu choking up when she didn't make it to the finals but still saying she'd had a lot of fun, I reach for tissue. I want to hug a lot of people. Even the sometimes bitter-faced Nastia Lukin. When she smiles and tears up, she's adorable. When she's got her game face on, you kind of expect her to sprinkle itching powder in your shorts.

- The parents are, in fact, some of the most fun. You can't tell me Michael Phelps' mom wasn't kind of hilarious in her own endearing way. Chris Collingsworth told Bob Costas about how during one of the races, she dug her hand into his leg so hard it hurt. She had a variety of facial expressions. I'm almost glad for her heart that his races are over; now she can relax.

- I've found it really hard to watch equestrian. Only a few events are on a TV station I get. Many are on Oxygen, which is not found on my cable network, and most of the rest are online only. Without verbal commentary. Sometimes there's a typed in commentary - complete with misspellings - and so that means you have to watch everything, lest you miss a rider you wanted to see. (Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can hear the on-course commentator, which makes things a little easier.) And you do get to hear the sounds of the game, including the riders making kissing noises to the horses over a fence. But you can't do a bunch of other things while it's on - if you want to follow it, you have to watch it. And sometimes the files are several hours long, so it's hard to keep up.

- Swimmers have no body fat and no body hair. I want one. Can I have one? Is there a spare male swimmer needing a home? I'd adopt one. I KNOW they're still in college and feeding one requires a semi truck making deliveries twice a week. I still want one.

- Nothing's creepier than realizing that had I become a teenage mother, I could have a child old enough to compete in Olympic gymnastics.