Sports
Winter Olympics 2006: I'm bored already.
kit - 07:17 a.m. Pacific Time - Feb. 12, 2006 - #50 of 145
I can remember when I was a kid, the whole world came to a standstill when the Olympics were on. Now there's a total glut: massively overproduced Wagnerian "Opening Ceremonies" which hit the airwaves every two years, too many soap operas, too little focus on the sports, and way too many events for anybody to try and follow; in fact, too many different events to be able to find coverage of the handful of events you're actually interested in.
My solution: stop selling the "Exclusive" rights to broadcast the games. That may have been appropriate back in the dinosaur ages when we had three networks and seven TV channels. Let NBC compete for viewers. Let the cable channels broadcast straightforward events. Nowadays, we have hundreds of cable channels -- why would any newsworthy event be "excluded" from coverage on a smaller channel just because Bri-Bri doesn't think it's got a tear-jerker story behind it? If NBC's coverage is all that scintillating, why not allow full uninterrupted coverage of each event on a cable channel -- then we'll know from the Nielsen ratings whether America opts for soap operas instead of sports coverage.
Private Life
Lost in Translation: Life in a Different Language or Culture
Mabel I Sez - 09:04 a.m. Pacific Time - Feb. 11, 2006 - #480 of 495
I always thought I would never be able to "go back," and that if I did, I would be filled with sadness all the time and miss England terribly and hate the U.S. for not being England. (For those who don't know my back story, I spent 13 years in England, from the ages of 21 to 34, and came back in 2002 with my husband and two kids, ages 11 and 5 at the time.)
Then I came back. For the first few months, it was just a whirlwind of finding a place to live and getting everything sorted. Then the sadness set in (just me, not husband or kids), and we decided to go back for a visit. And I went back for a visit and you know what? I didn't live there anymore. It wasn't my home anymore. And I went back to New York and I never missed England again.
I have been back for 3 1/2 years now and Love It. I think I would like to live in some other places in the future, perhaps in the U.S., perhaps outside, we'll see what's doable, but none of us actually want to go and live in England again. My kids would like some extended visits, and we are probably going to have one this summer, but otherwise, we're fine. If, five or six years ago, you would have told me we'd all feel this way, I'd have thought you were nuts.
Movies
Bizarre Hatred of Random Celebrities, Part the Fifth
damagazelle - 12:41 pm Pacific Time - Feb 9, 2006 - #2666 of 2801
I had a dream about Brit-Brit. Yeah. Kevin throws her over for Madonna, who has completed her metamorphosis into a 5' 3" length of high-quality, ultra-durable, double-twisted hemp cord. Kevin tries to climb up her to a big, glowing Best Rap Recording Grammy, but he hits a spot of grease at the top and as he slides down, the friction rubs off his K-Fed suit and reveals that he's actually a Russet potato, suitable for baking, with lots of those squicky sprouting eyes.
Then Brit moves back to Louisiana and starts the Federline-Spears-Havisham Finishing School for Girls. The "How to Dress Up Any Old Pair of Sweats with Chandelier Earrings" and "Braless Maritime Evacuations" classes are very popular, in spite of Brit's unnerving habits of always wearing the same black-polyester-lace over puke-green dress-tard she wore to the Country Music Awards and of gripping her young charge's shoulders while hissing into their ears, "Make him love you! Break his hearrrrrrrt!"
Then my baby kicked me and I woke up and swerved back onto the road. Whew!
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