Without any sleep patterns that come close to circadian rhythm, I’m aging physically faster than I should be.

But late at night and during the early hours you can find me, making trips outside for a Marlboro and then doing some minor house chore (I have a lot of housekeeping to catch up on) and retiring back to the sofa to watch the Olympics. It’s been epic, hasn’t it?

I can’t keep up with everything, but the one event I have most enjoyed is women’s beach volleyball. You can stop wincing now; something cool happened while I was being a voyeur.

I saw magic.

Oh, the spandex and tanned skin is eye candy and that’s as it should be. Why deny beauty and sexual attractiveness when we Yanks get outwardly prim as if we’re Puritans when secretly we’re totally depraved? I prefer honesty. And I can’t tell you about myself with lies. I’m not afraid of the truth.

It was last week that I first set eyes on the Latvian team when Tina Graudina and Anastasija Kravcenoka defeated the Russian Olympic Committee. Forgive me if I don’t recall their names. Every search I’ve made led me to the USA teams. I always want us to win, but whoever gets the gold is fine with me. I enjoy watching dedicated training in action. Disciplined athletes doing battle is an awesome spectacle no matter the sport.

As I watched I saw more than women in lycra sport bras. I never took the sport seriously and in 1996 laughed that it was in the Olympic Games.

My dear friends, it ain’t to be laughed at. And let me say this: every team and every game I’ve watched had that magical element that makes a sport great.

Dedication and drama.

It’s intense. Players on a team show an esprit de corps that I never knew was there. An intensity I ignored. A desire to excel that I find absolutely inspiring. The Latvian team is eye candy, sure. All of them are.

The match I saw last night between Brasil and Switzerland was as good as anything I’ve seen in sports and trust me, I’ve seen many grand spectacles in my life. I watched Jim Palmer and Brooks Robinson and Dave McNally and Boog Powell. Johnny Unitas, Roman Gabriel, George Blanda. Arnold Palmer, Lee Trevino. I’ve seen Canadian Football and European football. Wrestling and ski jumping and bobsledding.

I’ve watched Michael Jordan do impossible things. Scotty Pippen, The 2002 Maryland basketball dream team. It has been a hell of a ride. I’ve loved the drama, the controversy (the “Pine Tar Game” comes to mind).

I made the mistake of judging a sport while ignoring it as not being a true sport. I wasn’t just wrong, I was cheating myself by being something of a sexist (although I regarded the men’s beach volleyball in the same way).

It is difficult to admit a mistake, but doing so is liberating. Once that’s done, you’re free to engage or watch whatever you have belittled. I used to make fun of curling. I won’t anymore. I think it’s silly but I won’t deride those who play it or their fans. Although it is a bit like watching two neighborhood dogs humping. It’s a sick thing to do, but you can’t help yourself.

Of course, if I could be drugged while watching curling, I’d feel better about it but I don’t want to anyway.

Actually, fuck it: curling is not a sport. Go ahead and have a go at me in the comments section.

I’m old. But I’m still growing inside. Learning new things.

And the most important thing I have learned is that I don’t know anything.

While we’re in the last days of these Olympic games, I’d like to say to everyone involved, the hosts, the hard workers in Tokyo who busted their asses to make it happen and every coach and participant, “Well done, everyone!”

Perhaps I’ll live to see the next Summer Games. I hope I do.

Another Good Day

Would you believe I feel like I could run a marathon today? No, don’t believe that. Because it’s ridiculous.

But I had errands. Again. This time two reusable shopping bags slung over my shoulder, heavy and a burden on legs, shoulders and of course my poor back. I bought simple nutritious foods and as a reward for getting off my ass, a cup of pour-over blonde from Starbucks. It’s not a hot day. Overcast and between cool and warm but last night it felt damn cold out. The snag was humidity, but the coffee still hit the spot.

People still going into stores without masks. Since I double mask, I bought two new ones for when the other two are air drying.

The walk didn’t cause pain until I got back. Now it is severe. But I don’t regret how I got it. I had things that needed to be done and they got done. I wish I could convey how truly rare a day like this is for me. I even learned a lesson. I’ll take it.

Thanks for reading. I’m honored to be a small part of your life. I have some neat stuff coming up, and I hope you’ll be back to see it; until then, be well.