Eat, Sleep, Watch

The Olympics are over and Michael Phelps is not the only one who is relieved. While he is basking in the glory of his unprecedented 8 gold medals, I am celebrating the fact that we no longer have to watch him every night.

Once you’ve seen 27 hours or so of the Olympics, it hits you: these are people who are very good at one thing. They do it day in and day out, to the exclusion of all other pursuits. Michael Phelps describes his life as “eat, sleep, swim.” NBC showed footage of him doing all three. He shared face time with his bulldog, Herman, whose build is as wrong for aquatics as Michael’s is perfect.

My interest in athletic competition runs toward the trivial, if you haven’t noticed. Here are my astute observations about the XXIX Olympiad. Tell Bob Costas I’m available for color commentary.

Best Opening Ceremonies Moment: the undulating, pattern-shifting field of boxes. Made me forget the Viking ships in Lillehammer. Just as I was wondering how they made all those parts move with such precision, it was revealed that it was powered by people, not pistons. It seems an apt metaphor for their collective society.

National Anthem: Did anyone else notice that the particular version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” used for the medals ceremonies was decidedly less militaristic than what we’re used to? I was pleased that the face we showed to the world went easy on the “bombs bursting in air.”

Speaking of national anthems, one reason I look forward to the Olympics is to hear the anthems Keeper makes up. Example: “Slovenia, Slovenia, where no one is mean t’ ya. They’ll share their ice cream wit’ ya. Slovenia, my home!”

Hair: where do I start? I worry that the female gymnasts will all go bald by the time they are 30. They wear their hair so severely pulled back that their teenage hairlines are already receding. It would be so refreshing to see a pixie cut ala Mary Lou Retton. Thank God the sparkle gel fad seems to be over.

Remember when swimmers had facial hair? Now they appear to be completely hairless (this doesn’t bear too much thinking about). Of course, swimmers used to be nearly naked, too. Now their tiny Speedos have grown into full bodysuits. They look like dolphins.

Most boring to watch: synchronized diving. Hearing them say “One, two, three, GO” made it seem so silly. As Keeper says, it’s a useless skill. If you can run fast, swim a long distance, or immobilize a guy with a wrestling hold, this might some day save your life. If you’re being chased by a villain, you aren’t going to do any fancy twists off a high dive.

Best bodies: definitely the swimmers. Here’s a sure sign I’m getting older. When Mark Spitz was the hot new thing back in the ‘70s, my reaction was “hubba hubba.” I look at Michael Phelps and I think “What a nice boy.”

Cutest dog: Herman. Eat, Sleep, Snore.

It’s over. Now on to the next marathon TV event, the Democratic Convention. Get ready for the Synchronized Clapping While Wearing Goofy Hats competition.