The last couple of weeks have been super-busy for me. In addition to wrapping up another 200-hour yoga teacher training (let me just put the rumors to rest. I can confirm that my levitation skills and my X-ray vision are awesome and have improved immensely) I have also been engaged at various times in the 2016 Olympic Trials, trying once again to make a variety of teams. Many of you recall the bitter disappointment I felt when I was cut at the last minute from the Winter Olympics Curling Team because the “inspectors” felt if I couldn’t keep my kitchen floor swept very well I wouldn’t be able to clear the ice for the big “stone” or whatever they call that slidey thing on ice. This Olympics I was determined to make my appearance count so I have tried out for several of the sports that will be part of this Olympiad. Here’s the latest update:
Rumors to quash:
- Golf: In spite of the odds being in my favor I decided not to try out for golf. It turns out that the top golfers in the world are eschewing a trip to Rio because of their wussy fear of picking up some kind of disease. I don’t know why we expected more from these folks but we should remember that these “golfers” have little shame about wearing spats and plaid pants, riding around in little Disney-carts and then telling us they’re sportsmen. So even though the odds were good that I’d win a couple of medals I decided I couldn’t lower myself to wearing clothes like that.
- Although the host country is always allowed to select one special sport for inclusion in the Olympics that reflects their national passion, I was very disappointed to learn that waxing was not considered a sport even by the Brazilians. I think that’s a shame because although I haven’t really been in “training” I think I could be very good at this.
So What Did You Actually Try Out For?
This year I decided to focus on three sports where I thought I had a decent shot at making the team. Fortunately the trials for all of these were held here in Santa Rosa, the sports capital of America, so participating was easy. All you had to do was go down to the Vets Memorial Building a week ahead of time and sign-up for the tryouts of the sports you thought you could dominate. So I went down and got in line with the other 20,000 would-be “athletes” and waited patiently until I had a chance to show my skills and prowess. How did I do? Not bad actually. Here it is: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
I might as well get the bad news out of the way. In spite of almost making several baskets, I got nosed out at the end by LeBron. He did make more shots than I, although I was a much better defender than he is (even though he has a height advantage). I’m pretty sure I didn’t get picked because my “Tanya” move was apparently illegal, at least in their eyes. So moving around on the court was a bit problematic primarily because I’m older and slower and blinder than a lot of the people who tried out, but I’m not deterred very much. I think that in the 2020 Olympics they’re going to make H-O-R-S-E an Olympic sport and I’m pretty sure I can do better at that.
- Synchronized Swimming
Ever since I was a baby and saw my first Busby Berkeley movie on acid I wanted to be a synchronized swimmer.
(For those of you with less patience you can move the video up to the 3:00 minute mark but you’ll miss the amazing buildup).
I mean, let us be serious here: Is there really anything hotter, is there really a bigger turn on, than a woman wearing a tiara AND a nose plug? Sure some guys are into latex, others like shoes and boots. But for me it’s T&NP.
I knew then that if I was going to meet these royally beautiful but close-nosed ladies I’d have to get my feet wet too! And so from the age of eight I dreamed of becoming a synchronized swimmer. I even practiced in the bathtub when nobody was home. But the day came, ugly as it was, when I learned that men can’t sync. Yes, up until now men were banned from joining a synchronized swimming team. So the question was could I be the one to break what has become known as the “aqua ceiling”? …That invisible (but moist) barrier that keeps men from competing with women.
But I was undaunted. I signed up for the team and sadly I was met with resentment. I could hear my teammates whisper when they thought I was out of earshot: “Too brawny”, “Not sleek enough”, “Somehow the hair sealant doesn’t look quite right”, “He’s an “autumn” and our uniforms are definitely for “summers”, or “Who the hell invented the Speedo?”Now for the good news! After the tryout, I was gently pulled aside by the team coach and told “I wasn’t good enough” which is coded language for “you’re not good enough”. But I could see through her nervousness and when I threatened to sue, and promised to stop taking performance-enhancing drugs that kept me afloat, she relented. So, Yes. I’ll be going Rio in a week to join my teammates in the big Olympic event. I know that all the swimmers are supposed to look alike on a synchronized swim team, but see if you can pick me out!
- Equestrian Events
Yes, it’s true. This is the year that I was going to ride off to a gold medal in the equestrian events. My years of experience at the racetrack along with my cat-like reflexes and being the owner of the worlds only Lipizzaner Clydesdale made my win assured. I’m sure we could win the gold in all three categories, dressage, eventing, and jumping. So my steed “Bogart” and I showed our stuff over at the Vets Building and they signed us up on the spot. We were Rio bound! The only problem was I had to pay for both me and Bogart to get to Rio. Sure, I could afford a coach ticket for myself, and maybe even Bogart, but those bastards wouldn’t sell me a ticket for my Clydesdale. Apparently those airlines are allowed to discriminate against different species. So the next day I slipped on a pair of dark glasses, pulled out my white cane and went to buy a ticket to Rio explaining that Bogart was my Seeing-Eye Stallion and should be able to board with me and stay under my seat. No dice. They seemed to think I was faking it. Bastards!
Things were looking grim. It looked like we were literally going to have to hoof it down there on our own, so I packed a lunch and a bag of hay and we started trotting. After about three days I had made it to Milpitas and realized that lunch was gone and I was hungry and at this rate it would take forty-two months to trot to Rio. So we headed home.
I was beside myself (and beside Bogart too). That’s when it dawned on me that I could leave my horse behind and still compete in an equestrian event if only I could convince the judges that beside jumping, eventing, and dressage, there is a fourth category of equestrian events: Prancercize! For those not familiar with Prancercizing it is very similar to Zoomba, Tai Bow, Chi Gong, Hula Hoop and Jazzercise only instead of dancing and moving like a human, you move like an equestrian. This is basically an equestrian event without the horse! Here’s what it looks like:
So yes, I’m heading to Rio to Prancercize! I’m just going to start by crashing the dressage event. I know that when they see I’ve already perfected two never before seen Prancercize moves: The Double Appaloosa— you’ll have to see this to believe it, but it will soon become to Prancercize what the Triple Salkow is to competetive Ice Skating. And the Flicka Flop—It’s sort of like faux high-jumping like a Clydesdale and includes a full body roll.
So folks, be sure to record the whole summer Olympics in Rio and watch for me in the equestrian events and synchronized swimming. Two out of three isn’t bad. Those wishing to support my intense training and travel costs should send me a lot of money soon.