Bugler’s Dream

Que Tympanis!

What time is it?  That’s right.  It is the 2012 Olympics!  I can’t even stand how excited I am for it all.  I love the Olympics.   It is a test of country against country in athletic prowess, and yet it somehow ties the world together for 16 days.  Maybe because it is the one chance we get to view one another under the same set of rules.  In the mix of it all, we swell with unashamed national pride.  We root for underdogs and other countries and our own.  We remember what the human body is “supposed” to look like, if we ate right and exercised, and we are awe inspired by it.    We get to see what we COULD have been if we started swimming at age two, or riding horses when we were four, or if our mother’s drove us twenty miles to gymnastics camp every morning at 5am.  We sit on our couches and drink a beer and eat a grinder and say, WOW, that little girl is fourteen and has done SO MUCH…I’m thirty six….shit.   AH WELL,  GO USA!  chomp glug glug.

I love it.

Here is my list of things brought to light under the glow of the 2012 Summer Olympic torch.

1.  We are Geography Morons.

During the opening ceremonies we get an alphabetical reminder that there are lots of countries on our planet that we don’t know exist.   Admit it.  You said “There is a Micronesia?”….and then admit that you say that every four years.

2.  We are stereotypical.

The flag bearer for Zimbabwe was a blonde haired blue eyed Kirsty Coventry.  She happens to be their seven time Olympic medal swimming ace.   And not one part of me associated her look with an African nation.  Call it the Charleze Theron syndrome…”She’s from …where?”   In our assumption that everyone in the world wants to immigrate to our little melting pot, we forget that the world already is a little melting pot.   But it is still fun to say, HEY WAIT A SECOND, if a red haired freckled lad is carrying the flag for Japan.  I mean, c’mon…

3.  We love the Royals.

The wedding of Wills and Kate already solidified our national dork drool factor over the Royal Family.  But now, The Queen in her sixtieth year of reign just pumped us up with a skydive from a helicopter with James Bond in tow.  I loved it.  I loved that the old girl went along with the joke and made such a memorable stunt doubled entrance into the games.  It made her even more lovable to me.   We fought so very hard to rid ourselves of the Monarchy all those years ago,  but oh  to be a Queen….oh to dress like Princess Kate…..OH to have high tea.    George Washington rolls in his grave every time we gush over the redcoats.   You know that, right?

4.  We become armchair high divers.

I have never dove into a pool.  Is it dove?  Is it diven?  Dived?   That’s how many times I’ve done it, I don’t even know what to call it.  I mean, sure I’ve belly flopped and cannon-balled, but a true beautiful flip bam boom swoosh into the water from  10 meters up…no.  No, I have not done that.   You can bet your bippy, however, that I am going to watch various divers over the course of the next two weeks, and critique them.  I’m going to critique Olympians at something I do not know how to do.   “Oh, that was too much splash.”  “Ugh, I cannot believe she missed the second twist before the water.”  I’ll do it to all the athletes.   “He could’ve shaved some time off that butterfly with a little more push on the start.”   “You gotta PACE yourself in the 5000 meters!”  (suddenly Americans know the metric system…btw)

Hey…those who can, DO.  Those who can’t, stare at the TV and say “nope.  Nope she didn’t stick the landing.”

5.  We get bored easily.

Just gonna start the day with a little swimming and some women’s basketba…  ….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..

Ok.  So we can’t be excited about the damn games 24/7.  And not all the sports are going to pull in the big audiences.  But we’ll watch the evening highlights, and the controversy that always comes up, and learn some weird new rivalry, like OH YOU SHOULD SEE  India v Mexico in the shot put…it get’s SERIOUS.  Thank God for Bob Costas and all the commentator/experts in each field…they really do make it fun, and can occasionally make a ‘three part jump into a big sand box’ something of wonder for the average Joe.

So that’s my take.    Let’s hunker down and watch the world, and watch the nutty Brits do it right.  They wear their skinny jeans a little bit tighter.  They still have Knights, for God’s sake.  And one of em is a Beatle that rocked the house last night with “Hey Jude”.  (I just KNEW Paul was gonna do Hey Jude.  I knew it.)  …the Fascinator.  I MEAN WHAT IS THAT?!   And Londoners say “boot” and “Bob’s your uncle”.    I LOVE the games being in London.  The British – our quirky fun aunt that takes us to a pub when we aren’t quite old enough to go.

I’m in for a pint or three.