...that I'm thinkin' 'bout on Thursday...
1. ...winners from my Blogiversary Giveaways! Congrats to Jeff at Biking Duluth (Greenies & Pet Promise dog food sample), Caroline in NH at Fiber Arts & Furry Critters (Bush's Last Day keychain), Hootin' Anni (CD of ten of my photographic images), Andree at Meeyau (Feline Greenies & Pet Promise cat food sample), Molly at RedMolly Picayune-Democrat (a copy of Diane MacEachern's book Big Green Purse), and Anonymous Mom at Tenuous at Best (handcrafted journal)! If I don't hear from each of you within 24 hours, I will contact you. I'm asking until next Saturday (hopefully won't need that long) to get everything ready to ship.
2. ...my complete and utter domination at the art of oatmeal. I have mastered my "perfect oats." No extra liquid, but not too dry either. MMMMM.
3. ...philosophical subjects like evil and faith. I've determined that the basis for one's faith in an idea or entity is a positive and memorable event that the person attributes, whether correctly or incorrectly, to that idea or entity. For example, my husband sees, on a regular basis, the healing and saving of lives. He attributes that to the science of medicine; his faith, therefore, lies in the scientific.
4. ...suicide. Not mine, no. The book I'm reading, Jodi Picoult's The Pact, is about a failed teen suicide pact, where the surviving teen is charged with murder.
5. ...how terrible I am at poker. Some friends of ours have bought a table at a local "Casino Night" fundraiser and have graciously asked Hubby & I to go. I know not a damn thing about poker, but I will throw down with the best of them when intoxicated, I'm sure.
6. ...Texas's crazy caucusing. We voted early to avoid voting day crowds, but then had to go out anyway for the caucusing portion of the night.
7. ...how terrifyingly easy it is to imagine Youngest as a drug addict. He has a very addictive personality anyway, and a bipolar individual's risk of addiction to drugs or alcohol is much higher than that of a normally functioning person. At thirteen, his drug of choice is Runescape or the Playstation 3; he will do anything, self-destructive or otherwise, to get his fix. Seeing his desperation while in Austin last weekend with limited Internet availability was truly amazing.
8. ...our freakish weather. It's snowing again. Hard. Remember, I was talking about the weather yesterday?
9. ...how hitting an already-dead, but still fresh, skunk on the highway is very, very bad. Very bad, indeed. I also discovered why so many of them seem to be hit on the road. Nearly impossible to see until the last minute. Poor buggers.
10. ...organ donation. My mom is down in Florida at a post-transplant checkup. She's doing amazingly well!
11. ...photography. I mentioned it's snowing again, right?
12. ...the Project Runway season finale last night. As I fully expected, Christian kicked ass. His clothes, while not designed for the everyday woman, were exquisite concoctions, full of ruffles and feathers. His runway music killed, too (created and arranged by Anonymous Mom's not-so-anonymous talented son). Way to go, Christian! I just want to eat him up like a cookie, he's so freakin' cute.
13. ...how I SO don't want to do the laundry and mop the floors.
Edited to add: I drove for six hours to accomplish what would usually take three.
Sore Sports
Today I was planning to write a post about my first bicycle ride in a year or more. I rode ten miles yesterday, three of them with 27 pounds of groceries. (I now feel as if I've had repeated rough sex with a bull elephant seal.)
However, I was reading the sports news this morning, and started wondering about how Mark Spitz reacted when Michael Phelps broke his single-Olympic record of seven gold medals; Phelps made Olympic history last night, winning his eighth, with the help of three teammates. When I read this article, I decided to change my post. It's still about soreness and sports, just in different terms.
Apparently, Mark Spitz is sore that the International Olympic Committee did not invite him to watch Michael break his record, nor hang Phelps's medals around his neck. Perhaps they did this because, in 2004, when Phelps first attempted to break his record, he was invited, and he made such a big deal about not getting any face time on television, they thought the better of a second invitation. Perhaps they did this because, even in his prime, he was an ass, disliked by his teammates for his detachedness and propensity for playing mind games. Perhaps they did it because Mark Spitz is always determined to make things all about Mark Spitz, and this day should have been (and was, thanks to Spitz's absence) about Michael Phelps.
This woman, Debbie Schlussel, has nothing but glowing praise to lavish upon Mark Spitz; she seems to think he must shit rose petals and purple unicorn dust. She demands from one commenter, who points out that she spoke with a former Olympic alternate who greatly disliked Mark Spitz, to know names, NAMES of people who actually knew Mark Spitz and felt this way, because SURELY no one who knew Mark Spitz could think that he doesn't shit rose petals and purple unicorn dust, yo.
Well, let's see. I'll venture that his former Olympic teammate, Steve Genter, felt that way. Genter, even after suffering a partially collapsed lung and surgery to repair it less than a week prior, and broken stitches in the first leg of the race in question, Genter was leading with 25 meters to go. Spitz only beat him, bleeding wound and all, to the gold medal by less than two meters. Afterward, Genter angrily revealed that Spitz had spent the time before the race trying to convince him not to compete; Debbie Schlussel would no doubt say it was concern, but Genter, knowing Mark Spitz, felt it was more of an attempt to psych him out, knowing Genter was Spitz's main competition.
Spitz also wants the world to know that he probably could have taken eight medals, too, if they'd only had the 50 meter freestyle, as they do now. AND he wants the world to know that Michael Phelps will probably break his record because they are so much alike.
Not on your life, Mark Spitzer. Michael Phelps is loved by his teammates and the world can see his humility and love for the sport, not just someone who is in it for himself and all the fame he can wring out of it. Bottom line: Yes, it would have been nice to have a supportive, humble, quiet Mark Spitz at Beijing when Phelps broke his record. However, knowing Spitz's propensity for self-aggrandizing when he should be there just to bear witness to Olympic history in the making, I'm supportive of the IOC's decision not to bend over backwards to make sure he was specifically singled out and invited. If he wanted to be there for the love of the sport and to support Phelps, he should have called Phelps or his people and asked for tickets, but not on anyone's dime but his own. And don't expect a camera to lovingly caress your face every time you open your mouth.
There are so many more issues I have with the Phelps naysayers that I can't even address them here and stay on-topic. I will, however, say that to minimize Phelps's success based on the argument that increased technology (better suits, pools, strokes, etc.) made it all possible is ridiculous. Perhaps these people missed the part about Phelps being a physiological anomaly perfectly suited to swimming. The man is a phenomenal athlete, and it's time to give him his due.
Posted on August 17, 2008 at 01:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0)
Tags: bicycle ride, freak of nature, gold medals, Mark Spitz, Michael Phelps, Olympic athletes, poor sports, swimming
Save to del.icio.us