Watched the closing ceremony for the Olympics and all I can think is this: Curt Gowdy must be rolling over in his grave. A giant post-houmous head of John Lennon singing while tiny children from The Wall build a replicate of Lennon's head on a stage and now Russel Brand channeling Willi Wonka?
And now FatBoy Slim is emerging from a giant balloon octopus? I had no idea FatBoy was not especially Fat, nor particularly youthful. (This just in from the research department -my husband - FatBoy's name was actually Quieten Leo Cook then Norman Cook. Which as my daughter just pointed out - Who actually changes their name to 'Norman'?) But wait! The Spice Girls are back together. No! Now Eric Idle has just flown out of a cannon and Freddy Mercury is goading the crowd in a sing-a-long.
And whoever this Jesse J chick is, she just landed on my husband's 'list'.
Clearly this was not the Olympics of my youth; an Olympics where gymnasts kept their hair is tiny ponytails at the nape of their necks and guys with enormous porno mustaches won all the swimming medals. This was well before the internets and Google. I would sit glued to the television waiting to catch a glimpse of the culture and lifestyle of countries only seen in National Geographic. Music was provided by oompa bands and orchestras. I spent hours perfecting my Olga Korbut flight off the uneven bars and stuck that landing every time. (Never mind that the bars were in my mind and the neighbors wondered about the 'special girl' in the front yard doing sad cartwheels and speaking in gibberish.)
Now producers feel they must rely on ever increasingly over the top...productions. I don't know why. I still want to see the unique and different in the countries that are not our own. This is one of the reasons that the Olympics are so wonderful. I still cheer for our teams but I also cheer for those that strike a cord for their differences, their sacrifice, their ability to keep on going after a spectacular crash. In the end - I cheer for the achievement of actually competing and I cheer for those seventeen days when the world celebrates its same-ness and not its differences.
I will admit it. As crazy and unexplainable as the opening and closing ceremonies were, I still get teary-eyed when they light the torch and declare the games open and I do it all again with the closing and the promise of more spectacle in two more years in Russia and four more years in Brazil.
I will admit it. As crazy and unexplainable as the opening and closing ceremonies were, I still get teary-eyed when they light the torch and declare the games open and I do it all again with the closing and the promise of more spectacle in two more years in Russia and four more years in Brazil.
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