As I anticipated, I am enjoying the Olympics. I have even enjoyed watching the badminton — a word I have apparently never pronounced correctly in my life since I was unaware of the “n”. Spellcheck and I were in quite a battle for a bit as I tried to figure out how to spell the word. Spellcheck won. As for the game of badminton, my brother told me he played a lot of badminton in high school P.E., and their sole goal was to hit the birdie hard enough against the back of a person’s neck to leave a mark. I’m not sure that isn’t the goal of the badminton Olympians from all appearances. And, by the way, those high schoolers would have really been amused if they knew the correct term for the birdie was a shuttlecock. Tee-hees all around from the 15-year-olds.

I tried to watch bicycle racing, but decided it was simply too dull. Watching paint dry. I would rather have watched ribbon twirling, but I haven’t seen it in any of the Olympic events on television. Perhaps it’s a winter Olympics event. Do they do it on ice skates? And, by the way, it’s not called ribbon twirling. It’s called rhythmic gymnastics. That appears to be a bit of a stretch, but it probably makes the participants feel better. It’s hard to feel talented in a sport that contains the word “ribbon.”

I’m having trouble figuring out if I’m watching live or pre-recorded. I guess my rule of thumb should be if I look outside and it’s dark, it’s probably live. And I should probably get to bed. Yesterday morning I was looking at my news feed, and it told me the results of the women’s gymnastics. I FREAKED OUT. How on earth did I miss the women’s gymnastics, I said. And then I calmed down and realized that the women gymnasts had been performing while I was deep in REM sleep and that I would watch it last night. I vowed to no longer look at news feeds about the Olympics so that I don’t know the outcomes. By the time you read this post, you will know that the women’s gymnastics team looked like they were from one of those little islands off of Africa instead of the world’s Gymnastic Powerhouse. You let Russia beat you. I feel like I’m back in the Cold War. I’m pretty sure Simone Biles had a sore pinky toe. Better luck next time Ladies.

Synchronized swimming is fascinating to me. The Chinese women synchronized swimmers are creepily precise. I don’t know how they do it. I think they might all have been conjoined twins separated at birth. Bill and I have trouble walking together at the same pace.

Saturday morning, I stumbled on to women’s crewing. This is the sport where women who have shoulders larger than most men make rowing down a body of water look easy. In my next life, I’m going to be part of the U.S.A. Crew Team. My shoulders will be a normal size, because I’m going to be the coxswain. That is the person who sits in the back of the boat facing the rest of the team who yells at them. Work harder you big babies. What are you, a bunch of wimps? Pull, dammit. Pull, dammit. You look like weinies. Don’t let those Canadians bully you!

I wonder if you have to try out to be the coxswain on a crewing team. I’m sure I could do a great job. Bill could be my reference for how bossy I can be.