I’m not a sports fan, to put it mildly, but I do have an appreciation for the discipline and dedication that comes with true athletic prowess. And you have to admit that the basic idea of the Olympic Games is pretty inspiring. The notion that, for a few weeks every couple of years, athletes from all over the world can come together as friends, while their countries lay aside their differences, is the stuff of great novels. Just ignore the commercialism, the scandals, and the criticism, and the Olympic Village is really a Utopian society on a small, temporary scale. With a few recreational drugs and prostitution thrown in for good measure.
My own personal preferences tend toward the Winter Olympics, perhaps because, as a native Texan, swimming, running, hiking, and shooting are ordinary, commonplace events here. I love the drama (and the divas) of skating, and there’s no better way to spend a cold January night then snuggled up on the couch, watching skiers fly down the slopes of some steep mountain far away, bells ringing in the distance. That’s the part I most enjoy, and that’s the Olympics of my dreams.
Frank Deford, a writer, sports commentator, and personal hero of mine (he sure calls it like he sees it!), has an interesting take on the Olympics here. I recently read Deford’s book, Bliss, Remembered, which takes place during the Summer Olympics of 1936 and involves a romance between a young American swimmer and the son of a Nazi officer. It’s a fine glimpse into the world behind those heavy curtains and offers drama and intrigue, too.
When I saw my doctor this week, he was really excited and asked if I had “Olympic Fever” (his exact words!). My first thought was to respond, “Why yes, doctor, that’s why I’m here,” but I thought better of it and agreed that I do, a little. We talked some about the gymnastics drama, and when he left the room, his young nurse eyed me suspiciously.
“Are you really a big fan of the Olympics?” she asked, “because it didn’t seem like you were that excited.” I admitted that I could really take ’em or leave ’em, and she let out a big sigh and said she felt the same way. That she didn’t understand the excitement, even when she was a child, and she wished, for the first time in her career, that the doctor would just go back to talking about football. I told her that I thought it was okay not to like the Olympics, because not everyone is into sports.
But I really do like this commercial by Frost Bank. Their ads always make me feel proud to be a Texan. And swimmer Micah Lawrence, who has advanced to the finals in the 200-meter breaststroke (I had to look that up), is from my little town outside Austin, so that is very cool. Big congratulations to her!
How about you: Are you watching the Games? Could you take ’em or leave ’em?
If you are reading this, then you’ve found me, and I am eternally grateful for that! This move became inevitable when I participated in my blogging class, and though I was initially scared to do it, I was also up for the challenge. Moving a blog, the sum total of four years of writing and personal thoughts, is no small feat, and I was terrified at the prospect of losing what has become my passion.
Then, I realized that, as I’ve grown as a writer and blogger, my blog has changed immensely from those short diary entries I typed haphazardly back in the early days. I had a baby, and then another, and I lost some of my old opinions, and gained new insight into so many different things in life. I am still finding my way, but my voice is clear and distinct now, and it seems fitting to start fresh, once and for all.
This blog (with my very own URL!) will be my new and, hopefully, final home as I pursue the passions I’ve developed throughout the years. I have no plans to delete my original blog, and will refer to it quite often, especially in these early days. I won’t update the old blog any longer, but it will be there as a reminder of where I once was. And how far I’ve come.
I hope that you will continue to follow me here, and be patient with me as I adapt to my new surroundings. Self-hosting offers many wonderful opportunities, but it’s also a little like dangling on the edge of a precipice, which is a fitting metaphor for making such a gigantic move. You can expect the same types of posts you’ve come to know, along with the same sarcasm and humor, too. In fact, all that’s really changed is the actual site, which is now my very own. I’m working to make the transition as seamless as possible, and please feel free to offer your ideas and suggestions for improvement.
Thank you for your loyalty and readership as I embark on this new adventure. I’m really looking forward to the journey ahead.