The Olympics, W, and Cris Colinsworth's Knee

Ok, I'll admit it. I'm not a huge fan of the Olympics. Is there anything that qualifies as pure hype than the opening ceremonies? At least the Superbowl halftime show is designed so you can go relieve yourself and then get snacks. I think they actually want you to watch the opening ceremonies. Nevertheless, I have been watching some of the Olympics. A friend of mine and I were watching beach volleyball the other day. The announcers were talking in such rhapsodic terms about volleyball players Kerri Walsh and Misty May I thought I was going to be sick. And not that little mini-throwup you get sometimes when you get a little bile in the back of your throat, this was full on wanting to vomit. I mean I respect their athletic prowess, but it's beach volleyball for pete's sake. One announcer called them the Larry Bird and Magic Johnson of volleyball. Now can you imagine how ridiculous it would sound if someone called Larry Bird and Magic Johnson the Kerri Walsh and Misty May of basketball? I have actually heard some feminist types defending these women saying no one will ever take a sport seriously when the players are running around in bikinis. (I once went through a charity bikini car wash in Worcester, Massachusetts sort of involuntarily. I had trouble taking that seriously too. Despite their impractical attire, they did a heck of a job on my friend's car, I must say.) Can you imagine Larry Bird and Magic Johnson running around in bikinis? Those super short '70s basketball shorts were bad enough.

As an aside, I think it was nice that President Bush went to China to cheer on our athletes. And no, I don't think that it sends a message that we are condoning their poor human rights record. It's having our economies inextricably intertwined that shows that we condone their human rights abuses. But did the President have to go practice volleyball with Walsh and May? Has he completely given up on being taken seriously or having any gravitas at all? Are his handlers busy sending out their resumes and trying to figure out ways to expunge the fact that they've been working for W? Now that I think about it, these are the same people who allowed him to be photographed falling off a segway. The leader of the free world should not be shown stumbling around trying to play volleyball badly. On second thought, maybe we should just keep him distracted and he'll get into less trouble.

I guess what bothers me about the Olympics coverage is that the clowns at NBC don't seem to think that the sporting event speaks for itself. They have to go behind the scenes and give us these insipid human interest stories. Last night I had to hear Cris Colinsworth talking about how Michael Phelps' mother was squeezing his knee during a race they were watching together: "All I could think was whose knee are you squeezing when I'm not here?" he asked while I began to wretch. When that blather stopped, I got to actually watch Michael Phelps swim. He won. He's very good. I think he's the Michael Phelps of swimming.

This Miracle Brought to You By ... Tyson Foods

I recently noticed that Tyson foods won an award for most effective product placement on ABC's Extreme Makeover Home Edition. On a episode centering around a destitute family in Camden, New Jersey, Tyson swooped in a filled their (shiny new Kenmore) refrigerator with an enormous supply of Tyson chicken. This led me to have a mini-throwup -- you know when the bile creeps up the back of your throat? My reaction can be explained partially because I remember the stench of the chicken farms when I lived in rural Virginia. But mostly I react that way because I find the Extreme Makeover show to be quite perplexing, and slightly disturbing.

On one level, ABC (along with Sears, Lumber Liquidators, Kohler, CVS, Ford and god know how many other contributors) swoop into the life of a carefully selected deserving family and build them a great house in 7 days. The recipients are often victims of disease or disability, personal misfortune, natural disaster, or garden variety poverty. At times, I have actually looked at these people and thought, "jeez, this week's family isn't half as bad off as last week." Then I catch myself and feel embarrassed. I can safely say all of those people are deserving of the help they get. So what's the problem? Everyone wins, right? But why do I remain vaguely uncomfortable with this show then?

Commercialism is, of course, everywhere in our society, but this show has raised it to a new level. Try to watch Extreme Makeover for more than a few minutes without a jarring closeup of a product label or a delivery truck with a company emblem emblazoned on the side. The magic elixir for all that ails you seems to be available at your local Sears store in the form of a giant plasma TV or perhaps a jacuzzi tub, not to mention the trips to Disney World they send the families on. The culmination of each show is the unveiling of the amazing house that is built in 7 days. The camera zooms in as the bus pulls away to reveal the new (often monstrous) house and the family swoons. (By the way, how'd you like to be the guy in the inner city somewhere who just had a McMansion plopped down next to you?) Not all the family swoons with delight every time, of course. I remember a blind man and an autistic child who didn't actually swoon, but who's counting? The message they try to force feed us is that this show is about communities coming together to help people who give back to their neighbors despite their enormous problems. The message I get is: life is perfect if you can just get ABC to build you a house and fill it with stuff -- perhaps hundreds of pounds of Tyson chicken? Makes me uneasy, but I tune in anyway. Me and thirteen million other people. [Originally posted 1/2/2008]