Olympic Post

The closing ceremony is over. The medals have been lovingly packed away (sorry if the American team took so long... zing! Hollah!). I watched it. Like other sports, I loooovvve watching the olympics. I remember watching the '84 Olympics with my mom. Both of us were especially excited by the horse-jumping. As I grew up, I was dazzled by Carl Lewis and the original dream team and Michael Phelps and marathons and running and jumping and swimming and synchronizing! This Olympics was no exception. This Olympics was spectacular. I loved the variety - sports, countries, fans, scenery. Well done, everyone.

Here are a few post thoughts:

1. Keep all the sports. Keep that ever-expanding Olympic Leviathan consuming strange, wonderful sports from all five ringed continents. And why not? Basketball's popular, running is elemental, but why not include walking, synchronized swimming or handball? The fun part of the olympics is that the popular and the obscure meet on level ground (or water). The olympics isn't a closet to sort out the stuff that prevents you from finding your favorite socks. There's room for everybody in the party. Now, the impatient sourpusses who can't handle flipping between rhythmic gymnastics and field hockey might ask, where do we draw the line? I like the cigar test - if you can smoke a cigar while playing without it impeding your performance, then it's not a sport (sorry darts and poker - they show you on ESPN, but not the Olympics...).  But everything we might find boring (I find riding bikes in circles in the gym boring, but I can't deny it's a sport and the athletes are worthy - plus the moment when that old Brit came back and won and cried during the anthem... well, good stuff) or not fitting into our cultural understanding or looking silly.... I mean, the 50 km walking looks silly. Evidently, proper athletic walking technique involves shaking your hips in a sexy salsa dance style. But I've never seen a sport where so many people keeled over in exhausted. Well, maybe at band camp, but that always involved asthma and heavy brass instruments... But anway, there were 303 disciplines. Keep'em all... 
2. Speaking of different sports, how can we even talk about who's the best olympian all time? Folks can make they're case for Phelps, Bolt or dozens of people before them (maybe Bolt makes his own case - this seems to annoy some folks, but I like his Muhammed Ali showmansship - plus, behind the cocky act, he clearly takes joy in running like a cheetah). Apples, oranges, times and training. I wish we could watch Bolt could race Carl Lewis or Jesse Owens or Jim Thorpe on an even plane of modern training and technology. But we can't. Enjoy the present, remember the past. Know that this bar and blog conversation can't ever really be decided. 
3. On display - part of the profession for the athlete is being on display, and none more than the Olympics. This includes way those aerodynamic suits don't leave much to the imagination (not that I noticed... someone else told me). But I'm actually talking about the emotional (which requires looking up at their faces). Honestly, would you like to have millions voyeurs watching you at your job? Imagine if your last job interview were not only broadcast live all over the world, but it was analyzed ad nauseum by business experts, journalists, and comedians for the remaining night. Especially the part when you didn't get the job and you sat on a park bench sobbing like that poor Korean fencer who was gypped out of a spot in the finals due to a strange clock malfunction. Or you got the job and you celebrated by hurdling park benches like that hulking German guy who got gold in discus with Mo Farah's victory expression pasted to your face. Sure - they knew what they were getting into, but they're still human. This struck me especially when a German high jumper got 4th place for something like the third straight tournament. There, for all the world to see, she jumped up an down, tears in her eyes, screaming "I always get 4th! Always 4th! Always 4th" That hissy fit of raw frustration reminded  me of my own pathetic hissy fits, behind closed doors, usually alone or with someone who made a promise to God and me that includes the words "for worse." But I will say, come winter time, that I have a great pair of aerodynamic running tights. 
4. London - China's incredible, collectivist display at the Beijing opening ceremonies may have been astounding, but for whatever our many flaws, I much prefer the dynamic, multicultural West with its breathing room for movement, humor, song and spirit. Great vision, great games, and if I had money to spend (ha, hehhhhh....) I'd immediately do what your tourism offices is hoping I'd do. 

Talking the Talk with German Talk Shows (Discuss.)

What do you get when you combine Oprah, David Letterman, Meet the Press, Around the Horn and the McLaughlin Group? You get an average German talk show.

You see, most American talk shows center around a theme and either do one on ones with celebrities, gurus or experts - think Oprah or Letterman - or have a panel to either (depending on the day of the week and the network in question) cooly analyze the significance of the topic or screech like howler monkeys about how the opposing political party uses the shredded pieces of the Constitution for floss. But most of them at least have a focus and guests who can either talk intelligently about a topic or scream in panic until we either believe them or switch to that episode of Modern Family we've tivoed for later.

German talk shows usually have a theme and a minimum of seven guests to discuss the theme and it's at this point that the German sense of Ordnung (order, but with much more stability and cleanliness) that has kept the German economy going and the streets swept clean, breaks down into the chaos of a good German discussion. The panel introduction usually goes something like this:

Moderator: "The theme of today's show is 'The German Economic Miracle: A Nostalgic Look Back.' Our guests are a junior politician from the Green Party who has published a pamphlet called 'Solar Powered Cars: It's Not Rocket Science,' a woman from Hannover who just published a romance novel about the forbidden love between a zoo keeper and a taxi driver, Schalke 04 Football Club's new Korean Striker (will be speaking through an interpreter), the public relations director for Audi, a professor from the University of Bonn who's expertise is modern history and recently wrote a critically proclaimed book called The German Economic Miracle: Why It Should Still Make You Angry or Maybe It Shouldn't, the new light-weight women's kickboxing champion, the pirate party's senior press officer who will be live tweeting the event, and a thirteen year old boy who overcame protests from the local health department to start his own doner kebab stand."

The host then proceeds to bounce through his roundtable like a butterfly in a daisy garden while each of the guests tries to use his or her three and a half minutes of fame to promote their book/cause/film/lifestyle while attempting to say something intelligent about the topic at hand. Sometimes, of course, it makes great television - I remember when a pirate party candidate came on for the first time and a guy who looks like the guy who updates your software at work except with green hair had some interesting ideas about trade law while some woman (an actress... maybe? On a German talk show it's really hard to keep track of who is who) told him she hopes he doesn't sell out like Joschka Fisher. Well, I guess that was great... But more often I get dizzy.

Elmo Among Other Monsters

When it comes to Sesame Street, my daughter is following in my footsteps. I love Sesame Street, still do. It was the only show that I was both consistently allowed to watch and enjoyed watching. The show's educational, yes, but not only did it "make learning fun," but it captured the joy of learning things, a joy so many of those drab hygiene and physical science videos we watched in school never had. Add in smart pop culture references and characters kids and adults can care about, and you've got yourself a fine piece of television. So in this new age of the Information Super Highway, one of my first acts as father was to plop my kicking baby in my lap and watch YouTube videos of classic Sesame Street. She loved it so much I can't open up the lap top to do something important (like write a blog or goof off on Facebook) without having my daughter run up, grab my leg and in her best "melt papa's heart voice" say: "Letter B?"

There has been, however, a cultural shift since my childhood of sitting on our plaid-green couch to watch a show brought to you by the letter "K." You see, one of the biggest appeals of Sesame Street was that it was always a little rough around the edges. The street itself appeared a bit dirty, the characters lovable but gritty, the pictures and film had sort of a Public Television residue that smelled of cheapness and passion and authenticity. But this has changed. Sesame Street looks gentrified. Take a look at the website. You won't find smoother edges in Buckingham Palace. It's as clean the surgery ward. There's been a change, and I can sum it up in one word: Elmo. 

No question Elmo is the Street's most popular character. No question. If you visited the website, then you were greeted by his sweet furry face. That same face makes the little icon on the URL. He's everywhere, including my daughter's crib and coloring books. He's ingeniously designed for maximum cuteness and cuddliness. The cute one with a cute voice, and his cuteness has spread all over Sesame Street like a funny picture on Facebook. When I was home for Christmas, my mother wanted me to go to the local art house theater to see a documentary about Elmo's mover, shaker and speaker, Kevin Clash. His story is a powerful, feel-good, American-dream story of the best kind. No doubt he's a genius at his chosen career, and if there's a puppeteering pantheon, then he will sit with Jim Henson and Frank Oz to judge us all. But I couldn't see the film. There were some scheduling difficulties that explained this. But the truth is, I hold a grudge against Elmo. I miss the old furry monsters, like the ones in this old "C is for Cookie" video. 

It's not that the old monsters have been fired. Cookie, for one, still plays a prominent role (though the good folks at Sesame Street are reigning in his gluttony to help confront America's childhood obesity problem). And if you look through the website's list of muppets, you'll find characters like Herry, Frazzle and the Two-Headed Monster, all monsters of the old school. The old-school monsters weren't like cuddly kittens. They were more like your crazy uncle's biker friends. You know who I'm talking about. They were rough. They drove American-made motorcycles, drank beer from the bottle and had powerful, meaty arms. In fact, they may have both showed you your first tattoo and given you your first sip of beer. Your love for them was mixed with fear. They weren't ones for snuggles, but if you ever had a problem with a bully, needed repair work on the tree house or were threatened by a rabid dog, you knew you could count on them, just like you could count on old-school monsters. Now, not only are they crowded out by Elmo and his relentless sugartooth, but they're in a sad state. Look at their pictures on the website. They look like they've been thoroughly scrubbed and shampooed by a child-marketing expert. 

I don't mind Elmo's existence. Cuddles are necessary, and I wonder how many of today's conflicts could be solved (or at least eased) by a good snuggle. But life has rough edges, and Sesame Street's greatest strength was that it could acknowledge this and still take joy in singing, laughing and learning. 

Of course, the Elmo promotion is on to something. My daughter loves Elmo, the same way she loves puddles and pretty dresses. With no prompting (certainly by me), she was drawn to them. Among her army of stuffed animals, she has two Sesame Street dolls: Ernie and Elmo. Ernie was my favorite growing up. My daughter likes Ernie, and Ernie is my daughter's main sleeping partner, because by chance we threw him in the crib when it was dark outside and she needed a friend. But as much as she may try to hide it, Elmo is her favorite. She just sees him first. Elmo's like that gregarious kid in your third grade class that always made your teacher smile in a way she never could for you in spite of your obvious superiority in both behavior and grammar. Whenever we watch that old "Letter B" video, her next request is "Elmo." Doesn't matter which Elmo video, and there are lots to choose from. And, given time and mood, I indulge her. But I use my fatherly authority to throw in some old-school monster videos too. After all, there's more to fatherhood than snuggling. 

Our House, for One Night

Tonight, for one night, my wife and I had a house. We were homeowners and American dreamers.

Our daughter had her own room, and she sleeps there peacefully and undisturbed. We ate leftovers, and finished off the wine from a few nights ago - the two bottles re-corked and waiting like gypsy orphans on the china cabinet in our dining room. We watched a movie on our big-screen TV, one of those that hang on the wall, framed like a mural. Those used to be luxury items, the kind we'd see only at our rich friends' home. But it seems like everyone has one these days. Even us, tonight.

My wife baked bread. She could see the big TV from the kitchen so she wouldn't need to miss anything. I sat on the huge rwap around couch with cushy pillows. There was even a dog, who wasn't allowed on the nice red carpet. We stretched out and looked across at all the space, furniture and blessings.

In a few days we'll be back in our little DC apartment, watching movies on our laptop - enjoying the fruits of technology most of the world cannot even touch and about which our ancestors could not even dream. We'll eat like a king and queen of our little space and remember tonight, when we stretched out and played house.

Caught on Camera

Off early for Memorial Day Weekend, I took advantage of a little downtime to enjoy a full episode of This American Life. I commend most episodes, but I was particularly compelled by "Home Movies," because, newly married, newly fathered, I am at a point in my life where the camera starts rolling (in most cases, Justin's flip cam). "Home Movies" features five acts about, well, home movies, in which the This American Life correspondents, years after the fact, give characteristically insightful reflections on their own videos (David Sedaris' reflections on his mother and home movies is especially touching - I'd describe it more, but you'd be better off just listening to it).

The prologue is an interview with Alan Berliner, who made a film from six years of collecting home videos called Family Album. Berliner reminds us (to use the words from the website) that home movies almost always "document rites of passage, like birthdays or weddings, or moments of leisure - the beach is especially big. They show our lives as we want them to look, but maybe not as they actually do."

This is true. But it is tempting to conclude from this sentence that there is something inauthentic about rites of passage or leisure. Yes, these events are the exception and not the norm of how we spend our time. They can even seem anti-climatic when compared to weeks or month of preparation and anticipation. Yet, when I turn inward (my favorite place to turn!), these moments, alongside my greatest failures, that reel round and round in my head. Perhaps a more authentic home video of my life would include failures, humiliations and mundane day-to-day living, but rites of passage and leisure are genuine representations as to where I want to be and what I want to achieve.

Yes, the happy vacationing family may fight and fall apart. More marriages fail than I care to think about. Children singing "Happy Birthday" may grow up to be miserable adults. But keeping the good memories alive reminds us that they are no less real. They don't all need to be plastic castles of matching shirts and overpriced parties. What's "really" going on includes good and bad, happy and sad, mundane day-to-day and beach vacations.

Last week, a rite of passage was caught on tape. My daughter was baptized. There was much that led up to it that was not caught on tape. We spent a lot of time worrying. Where would our relatives sleep? Would we have significant time for them? Who would bake cakes for the party? Do we have enough paper plates? Would my daughter choose the moment of her baptism to soil her white gown with one of her patented "mega-poopies"?

Yet, for all the pomp and circumstance, this was the moment she entered God's church - set apart to reflect Him in His community. The gown - my mother found a hand-stitched English gown, plus a white, drool-catching bib with a cross and two doves (the Holy bib of Pentecost) - she will really only wear once, like a wedding dress and a prom dress. My pastor baptized her, along with two boys, and paraded everyone around the church. We said the Apostles creed, and promised, with God's help, to raise her in the faith, fighting bravely against the world, the flesh and the devil.

This event not only reflects a deeper, authentic reality, but it is this reality that undergirds and shapes the rest of life - celebrations, mundane passages or failures - everything we won't catch on camera.

Feel the Love

Now that Barack Obama has gained the presidency, the rest of the world (with the possible exception of Pakistan) likes us again. Even during our recent troubles, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung made a list of reasons why the rest of the world can’t get enough of us. Since some of those who read these words are unable to read German, I’ll provide a list right here, in English, with my own commentaries (after all, it is my blog).

1.     Fashion

Okay, I don’t know why this is first, since Britain and Italy are more renown in this area. And, as any woman in my life would affirm, it’s not my forte, either. I’m told Sex in the City influences fashion and causes women to buy things. Hopefully the current financial crisis will promote savings instead. In any case, the world must like the way we, (well… some of us) dress.

2.     TV Series

My wife and are just finished up the 4^th season of Lost, and we are eagerly awaiting season 5. As a rule, I remain addicted to only one show at a time. The article sites West Wing, Frasier and Malcom in the Middle as some of their favorites. I can only speak to the second, which I like. 24 has kept my attention in the past, and Homer Simpson remains one of our biggest ambassadors.

3.     Rock Music

Amen, amen, amen. True, Great Britain has contributed almost as much (and thus more per-capita) to rock and roll. But in every American town, you can find the love affair between boy and guitar, producing beautiful music, much of which you will never hear. Today’s indy-rock scene is no longer what dominates top-40 radio, but scratch below the surface, and some amazing stuff is growing. Fresh grown rock was noticeably missing from Germany. The FAZ writer mentions Vampire Weekend as one of American rock’s current torch bearers. I’m going to recommend a couple of friends. For some good tunes, check out the Tortoise and the Hair, the Northernness and Andy Matchett. For good measure, the Oaks, are friends of friends, and are quite good as well.

4.     Love for children

Evidently, we treat our kids good here. We do produce some pretty good toys, although Denmark is home to Lego.

5.     Literature

A Nobel Prize judge recently said that no good literature is produced in America. The FAZ debunks this, citing Philip Roth and John Updike. For those of you who have not read him yet, I’m going to recommend Wendell Berry (though I don’t think he would approve of blogs).

6.     Film

Plenty of great indy movies have come from America, but Hollywood is king – and a huge ambassador to the world. As much as the artistic type in us may want to bash it, I’m sure we can all think of a star-studded Hollywood flick we love. I was in Germany when The Last Samurai came out. German critics blasted Tom Cruise’s film as un-historical, saying that its homage to the Samurai ideal would be like writing a film on church history based on the ideals of Christian love. Ok, I have to agree, The Last Samurai was a horrible film, but it does illustrate that Hollywood is often more about the ideal than about reality. Just like America. That may bristle at times, but it is not always unappealing.

7.     The Debating Culture

Interesting that the Germans would say this – they love a good debate, though these are often longer, more abstract affairs. However, the article pointed more to the comedy that came out of the debates – Stephen Colbert, Jon Stewart and Tina Fey. I have to say, our political satire is second-to-none.

8.     Universities

Okay, we do rock the top university lists. I did not go to an elite university, but they do look good on resumes. One thing that we have that many Europeans do not is the campus. Some of the best moments in college were sitting in the grass between brick buildings, playing guitar, reading and talking to those who disagreed with me.

9.     Friendliness

I’m from the south, and there is an appeal to the southern charm. However, I do find the unabashed honesty of the Germans (or even more so, the Chinese. They will honestly let you know if you’ve gained weight since they last saw you) is quite refreshing.

10. New York

Don’t get me wrong, New York is great. We hope to bus up there soon. But don’t let that be the only part of America you see. There’s so much more.

11. Basketball

I like basketball too, but I am homesick for the Michael Jordan era. Now, the most interesting part of the NBA for me is how international the sport is becoming. Indeed, probably the only reason it is mentioned in a German magazine is the rise of Dirk Nowinsky. If you want to try a truly American sport (ask any Canadian where basketball was invented), check out college football. I know the typical European complaints. They stop and every down, the action is not constant. True, but once the action gets started again, anything can happen: Hard hits, stunning displays of athleticism, and piles of bodies all over the field. Moreover, as one college football commentator said on a radio show, football is the only sport where every person is involved in every play. Blocks down the field effect how far a ball will travel. I was in Paris when France won the world cup. But I was also in Tallahassee in 2000 when the recount stopped for the Florida State-Florida game. FSU won, and the victory propelled us into the national title game. A college football rivalry in the south has an electricity not duplicated elsewhere.

12. Indian Summer

I think I lived in Florida too long for this one, and D.C. is not far enough north. Sounds nice though. 

A commentary you can't refuse

The Economist online has an interesting commentary on The Soparanos, American culture and the way the rest of the world sees us. Read it here.

Bada Bing!

Flickering Screen

As I write this, I'm watching "American Idol." I'm almost ashamed to admit it. I suppose I can see the drama and entertainment value. I'm not really a fan of public humiliation, however deserved, or the style of music (though it does make a party, I suppose). I guess it's more about bonding with my roommates, particularly with Dimiter, who doesn't like "24" or "the Office," like the rest of us. We're judging the men at the moment, and I'm pulling for the fat guy with a lot of hair, just because I like to root for the fat guy with a lot of hair. (As an aside, Jeff Foxworthy is in the audience, which adds entertainment through osmosis) TV so addicting, there were times I have purposely tried to live without one. I could be reading, writing something more philosophical (ok, ok, maybe not), learning to finger-pick like all the cool guitarists. Yet nothing gets guys to bond like a flickering screen. We need the help.

Update: the guy with the hair did great.

Even better, I talk like I know about sports...

I just saw a great commercial on ESPN.

As I write this, I am watching the University of Washington play Pittsburg in college basketball. Not because I am a particular fan of either team, but because it's Saturday and I want to do something relaxing. Besides, there's something fresh and raw and deliciously tribal about college sports that professional sports can't seem to match. It's messier, but it's a passionate mess.

Anyway, the commercial was advertisement for ESPNews, the network's 24 hour sports-news channel. It's like a never-ending episode of Sports Center. Anyway, the protagonist of this commercial was a man who clearly didn't know sports and always embarrassed himself by saying obvious sports falsehoods. ESPN news cures him. He ends the commercial saying, "now I know about sports. Even better, I talk like I know about sports."

What a great line. Credit the commercial makers for sneaking some social commentary in ESPN's attempt to grasp viewers and money.

It's part of our nature, isn't it? We want to pose, we want to present ourselves as something. Our ancients painted their faces to demonstrate their prowess in battle. We wear the right close and speak the right language. It's better to talk like I know about sports. I feel that pressure in Washington. Everyone here is an expert. I feel something like penis envy at every party where I find myself drinking wine with someone obviously more knowledgeable about wine than me. I can never remember what grape gives what taste to what wine-sort from what region. I just know that Spanish wine I drank with Daniela in Malaga was one of the best tastes I've ever had in my mouth. Of course, I can't brag about my travels anymore, not with my co-workers laughing about good times in that one party district in Hong Kong. Yet I want to, immensely.

I don't need ESPNews. I need a 24 hour news station filled with facts about culture, politics, philosophy and travel, so I could wow my friends. Who needs education when you can talk like you're educated.

I wonder if this is fueling my ambition for higher education more than I let on. I do have some pure motives (the post-modern in me replies that no motive could ever truly be pure. Perhaps I should conclude that it's better not to have motives). I honestly love to learn. I want to show Jesus to people somehow, and I want to do this from a position of knowledge and understanding. I truly love culture, art, travel, coffee and wine.

Yet, there's a part of me that's uncomfortable not being the coolest guy in the room. It's amazing how much that steals the joy all these things bring.