Have you been watching the Olympics? You know, the ones in Rio where the athletes are receiving special mosquito netting and bug spray so they don’t get the Zika virus? The ones that are on television 24 hours a day so you don’t know if you are watching a record being set or it was set eight hours earlier and you missed it? The Olympics are a time where nations come together in sport and camaraderie, where security is heightened and where dreams are made. Where a young man set the world record for the decathlon in 1976 and 40 years later, he became the first woman to accomplish that same goal. Perhaps I just crossed a line.
In any event, the Olympic events get me thinking—wow, I can’t do any of those things. These athletes are in such incredible shape and I actually make creaking noises when I get out of bed in the morning. I can’t swim, I can’t pole vault, I can’t run and I can’t do a somersault (ok, I cannot do any Olympic events or fit into a star-spangled leotard). While watching them initially, I was with my dad in rehab and we were coming up with the “Depressing Olympics.” Competitions for the physically challenged. Walker racing, who can finish their Jell-O first, wheelchair relays, competitive bingo and seeing how long it takes the nurse to respond to the buzzer…that sort of thing. You need to find things to laugh about no matter how pathetic the situation.
And then there should be the Jewish Olympics. The Shul Decathlon. Husband leaves house, has to get bagels for the kids’ lunch, make it to minyan and then do carpool all while on a conference call. The Simcha Relay—Bat Mitzvah in Teaneck, engagement party in Long Island and wedding in Brooklyn—a different outfit for each event and finding a place to leave your kids that makes them all happy—all with only paying one toll and it has to be the carpool rate, which means you have to have at least three people in the car with you (husband #1 came up with that caveat). The Teaneckshuls Challenge—find a cleaning lady, a ride to Lakewood both ways for your neighbor’s grandmother and send a small package to Israel all while sitting on an exercise ball wearing Lululemon yoga pants. Kiddish Calisthenics—first one down to the men’s club kiddish (or your community’s equivalent) can get plates of food to feed a family of six, with beverages and can locate challah rolls so you don’t have to eat lunch when you get home. All while wishing the baal simcha (if there is one) mazel tov and complimenting the bar mitzvah boy (if there is one) on his exceptional laining.
The possibilities are endless—first person at a simcha, fastest person to leave a simcha. The number of phone calls needed to find out if the person who hasn’t sent back a response card is coming to your simcha…and on and on and on. Though it seems I forgot to mention any activities that actually involve physical conditioning. So I had to think back to when I first moved to Teaneck and had to push a double stroller up a very steep hill. Now there is an Olympic event. While wearing heels. In the summer. In a skirt. I think that might even be a viable event and I am thinking of petitioning the Olympic committee to see if that could be a thing. Or not. Though I do question some of the sponsors of the Olympics—I highly doubt that any of these gold medal–winning super stars drink a cold Coke after a workout or head to McDonalds after training. But I digress…
And who doesn’t love the Opening Ceremonies, with their music and pageantry? All of the athletes, who have been training for years, giving up their childhoods to pursue perfection in their given sport, marching in with their competitors. The lighting of the torch—or is it the passing of the torch? Who knows, it is just nice to see people getting along and coming together in something that isn’t political or divisive. We will have enough of that in November. USA! USA!
Banji Ganchrow is a gold-medal winner in the “ironing men’s shirts” competition.
