Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Going for the Gold

The Olympics are here. Is there a better demonstration of national pride than the athletes who represent our country at the games? Wonderful Husband has been fascinated with curling and looking forward to it's start. His questions around curling entail the broom (doesn't everyone's?). He wanted to know does the broom guy have a special broom, or will any old broom do? Does he carry the broom in a special carrying case like one might do for a hockey stick or tennis racket, or do they just carry it like a cleaning product? We discussed this for some time, but never reached any conclusions. But unlike WH, I had less existential dilemmas than what to do with the curling broom. You see, I have a very strong desire to join the ranks of the Olympic team. I'm pretty sure I could do it. Not skiing, or snowboarding, or even the broom guy in curling. Oh no, ice dancing. I just know I have what it takes to become an Olympic ice dancer.

I took skating lessons as a kid, and I can still hold my own on the rink. I never had one of those little skating skirts (don't think I didn't ask for one, though) or those fuzzy bootie things you put over your skates when you're done skating, but I definitely enjoyed it. Please don't confuse my ambition in ice dancing with figure skating, because while I am certain that I couldn't manage a triple toe loop, I know that I could do a little ballroom dancing on the ice. All you have to do is watch ice dancing, and you would know that it could be done. During the last Winter Olympics, I made the mistake of articulating this to my mother. I informed her that if I had the support, both emotional and financial, I was quite certain I could medal in ice dancing. And do you know what she did? She laughed. She poo-pooed. She all but crushed my dreams of ice dancing. (I'll bet she'd never have this response to Paula.) I mean, it's not like I said I was going to go for the gold in the downhill moguls. It's dancing. On ice. I could so do that! And now I have the human interest aspect of overcoming the scorn of my family to make that complete. Paging Bob Costas . . .

My mother brought it up this week, as if to pour salt on my four-year-old wounds. "Are you going to watch the ice dancing?" I told her she was a dream killer. But, though I was undeterred, there was yet one more obstacle to overcome in my quest for Olympic gold. I needed just the right partner to round out my ice dancing dreams. I thought long and hard and then informed my friend the Gay Lawyer that he was going to be my ice dancing partner. We had cut a rug at my wedding, so I knew he had the moves. He's great at sewing, so he could design and craft our skating outfits. And he's got just the right devil-may-care attitude that will turn the ice dancing world on it's ear. In short, we are perfect pairing. And I just know that if we put in the hours and do the work, we can become ice dancing champions. During our conversation, GL suggested that we perform to disco music (see, this is just the reason why I identified him as my future partner) -- to which I agreed. What could be better than starting off smooth and slow to "Last Dance," and rocking out as the song creschendos to it's disco climax?

I can almost hear the National Anthem now . . . I can feel the weight of the gold around my neck. I'm ready for it. And do you know what? In a show of just how gracious I can be, when I sit down for my "Moment in Time" with Bob Costas, I promise to thank my mother. Now all I need is a coach . . . and a pair of skates.

2 comments:

  1. Your mom is a dream crusher! I think she seriously wants to steal the coaching job from Svetlana and Yuri. Keep your eyes on her!

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  2. Let me tell you something, the first time I saw curling, I was in Tornno (as they say in Toronto) sitting in a bar drinking it up big time, and I happen to look up at the t.v. (all bars have t.v. now-don't hey) and saw a bunch of grown-ass men pushing a rock with a broom. Well, if I didn't almost pee my pants. I was with my husband, and as always, he of course knew what it was. Wasn't quite sure of the rules, but could explain what they were doing. Can you say D-i-v-o-r-c-e. I looked at him and all I could do was call for another round.

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