Olympic Spirit

Well, it’s almost over. I have truly enjoyed the 2012 Olympic Games. Competition seems to bring out the best in some people. I think the excitement of the games probably speak louder to me than some due to the fact that I am a bit of an athlete myself. If you’ve watched the Amazing Wonders Aviation video I posted on Facebook then you already knew that.

I would never say that I’m particularly good at any of the events.

In fact, I wouldn’t even say that I like many of the events. But historically speaking, sport events become more and more enjoyable to me. I’m really glad that over time mankind has embraced sports like BMX bike racing and as silly as it is, water polo, and long forgotten other events such as lions eating Christians and that sort of thing.

I can’t really explain why I like the Olympics.

I don’t really like running. It hurts. If you ever see me running it might be a good idea for you to run too because if I’m running it means there is something really bad not too far behind me.

I like water. I like to be wet. But I don’t like swimming. I like soaking. In the last ten years I haven’t done much of either. I like big swimming pools but they are usually full of loud little kids. Loud little kids are like drunk people. Water has the same effect on kids as liquor does on adults. They lose all sense of volume and speak at volumes that would get you an O.S.H.A. citation at work or disturbing the peace citation if you had a party at your house that got out of hand.

I like to jump into water. As for diving, I not jumping head first into anything other than a plate full of crab legs.

My favorite event this year is Beach Volleyball. I feel a kindred spirit with volleyball players. They fall down a lot. Lately I fall a lot too. The only real difference between me and a volleyball player is that when a volleyball player goes after a ball and falls down…people cheer. When I fall down…people laugh.

I don’t get it.

With all that has been good about the 2012 Olympic Games there is something that really bothers me about the entire event.

First let me say that I understand all the hoopla about Calvin Clean (whatever his name is) and Olympic clothing made in China.

But come on! Couldn’t you find something made in the good ole USA other than your underwear to wear to the competition? Did you even bother running by Wal-Mart just to see what they might have?

Obviously not because for two solid weeks there have been scores of athletes running around all over London wearing nothing but a pair of drawers.

It’s not that it is terribly offensive to me.

It’s downright dangerous. and there are several other potential consequences.

Trust me. I Know.

I know the appeal of doing what you like or need to do while doing it wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. When I was self-employed there were days when I was out in the field and wore business casual when visiting customers or potential clients. There were other days when I was out in the studio repairing equipment or making sales calls when I went to work in my underwear.

That all ended the day I dropped a soldering iron into my lap.
I woke up that morning singing bass and I went to bed that night as a soprano.

There’s also the potential for emotional injury when you run around in your underwear or the wrong swimwear.

Case in point?...

The only time I’ve ever attempted to water ski could have easily been a day that would have destroyed my pride forever.
I got out of the boat, put on the skis and waited. The driver idled forward and tightened the ski rope. He looked back and yelled “are you ready?”

I yelled “I reckon”.

He kicked the throttle and tore off across the lake. I held the rope tight and went with him.

The water skis and my swimming trunks and underwear stayed behind.

Fortunately for me, my swimsuit and underwear are similar in size to a parachute. I was able to breast stroke back and recover my clothing.

THEREFORE…

I have to ask. What reasonably sensible grown man would put on a pair of panties, walk out in public while on international TV coverage, climb a 40 foot ladder, and dive head first into a swimming pool?

You’re just asking for it.

I like to walk on the beach; however I do not like sand in or on my underwear. A wet suit, flippers and a welding helmet seem like the better choice for beach volleyball.

I get it…I really do. I don’t like Calvin Klein clothes either. I guess it’s a good thing because they don’t make anything in XXXL anyway.

Actually I don’t like any clothes that have somebody else’s name on them. I’ve been that way since I was eleven years old when I came home from Boy Scout camp and discovered that I had on a pair of underwear with the name “Calvin” wrote on the waist band with a sharpie. I freaked out.

You would have too had you ever met Calvin. That was one of lifes bleachable moments.    

On another subject, I really do wish that some designer would make some cool clothes for big folk. Clothes that fit me look like the National Flag of Argentina.

I’m fat, not colored blind.

Fat people want to be incognita. They don’t want to wear something that cries out “look at me! Look at me! I’m fat!”

How come all the models in catalogs for big men clothing look like a yellow m&m or like they just appeared in a Fruit of the Loom commercial and wear their hair like Wally Cleaver?

Bottom line…

PUT ON SOME BRITCHES.

And if you insist on competing in boxer shorts let somebody besides your mama pick them out. Guys, you looked ridiculous.

Tonight I’m writing for two purposes.

I’ve said enough about the first one.

The second reason I am writing is to announce my intentions to go to Rio in 2016 and compete in the Olympic Games.

I’ve given up hope that Chicken Wing Eating will become an Olympic Event in time for the 2016 games so I have decided to petition the International Olympic Committee to allow me to compete under the IOC flag with an independent Synchronized Swim Team made up of Dan Holley, Marc Cassabon, Steve Jones, Jose Perez, Bobby Smith, and myself.

We will begin training as soon as we find a facility with a suitable privacy fence.

While our best shot will be as independent competitors, we will be as American as it gets when we get there. The choreography is already underway and our trade mark routine will be performed to the soundtrack “My Baby Is American Made” by the Oakridge Boys.

See ya in 2016!