A Common Woman

My Modernization of Olympic Events

 

I'm not an avid sports fan. I’ve never understood the lure of footbal. lt boggles my mind that some women willingly choose to watch football, even when their husbands aren't home and in control of the remote. I enjoy ice-skating, and have even watched a tennis match or two. But, I must confess, I love the Olympics.

 

I never know who to cheer for when watching the Olympics. I'm an American, and of course I want to cheer for my fellow countrymen. But, I feel obligated to cheer for Russia and Greece, as these countries have also been a part of my life. To make it easier and fairer, I cheer for everyone.

 

I loved watching athletes from around the world compete for the Olympic gold. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from the women’s weightlifting event. I worried that without my visual support, their arms would splinter into a thousand jagged pieces as they strained to lift the weights. I watched trampolining and wondered how a backyard toy evolved into an Olympic event.

 

Photo by smeert 

 

Many of the modern Olympic events are outdated. The Three Musketeers were the last people who fenced on a daily basis. I think Olympic events should be revised to include modern-day life skills. Living in Greece, I’ve observed several adrenaline-spiking skills that would make great Olympic events.  Here are a few suggestions:

Scooter Slalom: Athletes race motor scooters during rush hour traffic, holding a cigarette in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Extra points awarded for balancing a frappe between your knees.

 

Pedestrian Sprints: Athletes cross six lanes of traffic, without the aid of a crosswalk. Points are given based on quickness, daring, and skill. Points are deducted for blood or loss of limb.

 

Bus Surfing: Athletes pack into a crowded bus and compete to remain standing for the duration of the ride. Points are awarded for a hands-free ride (no holding on to handrails or seat backs), reading a book while standing, and leaving the bus with your wallet still in your possession.

 

Rhythmic Honking: Athletes, sitting in cars at a traffic light, compete to honk first when the light turns green. Points are awarded based on quickness, degree of visible aggravation, and the gracefulness of accompanying hand gestures.

 

What new event would you like to see added to the Olympics?

 

 

 

Try a Little Kindness

 

A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person. 

~Dave Barry~

Recently, Darling Husband and I flew from Texas to Greece. When we fly, my DH always freaks out about the weight of the luggage. There are multiple weigh-ins involving much moaning and groaning before heading to the airport. Personally, I just pack, and then pray that all will work out for good. But, this time we were traveling with a small dog in tow. I was more than a little worried about getting our dog, Katya, on the plane and also preventing her from exercising any odorous bodily functions in her crate.

 

We arrived at the airport and hurried to the back of the check-in line. DH nervously shuttled the luggage through the line, while I tried to keep the dog’s carrying case level and not dump her upside down which would probably cause irreparable brain damage.

 

Frankly, I was appalled to see how the passengers treated the airline personnel who waited on them. Let’s just say, there weren’t very many kind words being thrown around.

 

Finally, it was our turn. We stepped up to the counter, smiled, and offered our passports to the agent. She immediately noticed our dog, and exclaimed “Oh look, a Shiba Inu!” It is rare to find someone that recognizes our dog’s breed, and we began the usual “dogese” talk that only dog lovers enjoy.

A picture of Katya, the Shiba Inu, for the dog lovers who read this blog

 

During the conversation, we discovered that the ticket agent had lived in Alaska, our home state. As the agent checked in our extra bag, she commented that it wasn’t too big, so there would be no charge. Of course, our smiles broadened, and we thanked her for her kindness.

 

Later, we heard our names called over the loudspeaker at the boarding gate. We hesitantly approached the desk, worried that something was wrong with the dog’s papers, or the flight was overbooked. The ticket agent who checked us in stood behind the desk. She handed us new boarding passes and said she wanted to take care of her Alaskan friends. We turned our passes over, and realized we had been bumped up to business class. Business class on an 11-hour flight! Heaven on earth a plane.

 

Now, I don’t promise if you are kind to the ticket agent you will always be bumped up to first class.  But wouldn’t this world be a nicer place if we all followed the Golden rule: Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:31, NIV.) 

 

Or in the words of Thumper the rabbit, “If you can't say something nice... don't say nothing at all.” (Bambi)

  

 

 

A Wedding Cake, Three Men and a Dolly

 

My daughter was married in May, and it was a lovely wedding. Of course, planning a wedding in America when I was living in Europe was a little stressful. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined that a simple wedding cake would almost be my undoing.

It was a beautiful day for a wedding. After a touching ceremony, we adjourned to the outdoor reception. I scanned the tables, checking out the decorations and verifying everything was in its place. The cake table looked a little bare. WHERE WAS THE CAKE!!!

 

Moving as quickly as my high heels would allow, I sprinted into the kitchen and flung open the refrigerator door. There, in all its splendor, sat the five-tiered wedding cake. It was gorgeous. I had to get it moved outside to the reception, quickly, discreetly, and in one piece.

 

I returned to the reception, smiling at guests as my eagle eye checked out all the attendees of the male persuasion. I needed a combination of muscle and brains. Zeroing in on my choices, I snagged three men out of the appetizer line.

 

With my helpers in tow, we proceeded to the kitchen where I explained my predicament. The cake in the refrigerator had to be moved to the cake table. Complicating matters, the ¼” thick board under the cake was too thin and flexible for the heaviness of the cake.

 

After much discussion and scratching of heads, my hulky angels slid the cake out of the fridge onto a dolly (the flat platform kind with a handle at one end – like you see at Sam’s Club.) I closed my eyes and prayed until I heard relieved sighs as the cake was gently placed on the dolly. I opened my eyes and noticed that the cake was leaning, just a tad to the right.

 

The cake movers began to trundle the cake down the ramp from the kitchen to the reception. To our horror, the cake began leaning even more. We scuttled back to the top of the ramp to assess the damage and devise a plan B.

 

There was only one alternative. Pick up the dolly and muscle it out to the cake table. I led the cake parade as we marched around the reception area and through the flowerbeds to the cake table. The guys held the dolly level with the table as I carefully slid the cake onto its final resting place.

 

I surveyed the leaning tower of cake, and wondered if I could gently shove the layers back into position. I tentatively poked at a layer, and realized this was a bad plan. Instead, we simply jammed several paper plates under one side of the cake board so it would appear level. I draped the tablecloth around the plates that were chalking up the cake, and voila, a level cake. I glared at the cake with narrowed eyes, daring it to slide off the table.

 

Just then, my radiant daughter danced by in the arms of her new husband. She wasn’t worried about leaning cakes, missing forks, or wind-blown decorations. Her glorious smile said it all. God had provided her a perfect soul mate, and the rest was just icing on the cake.  

 

So I relaxed, sat down and enjoyed a piece of wedding cake. It was delicious.