It's Olympic Time

I believe there is something called the Olympics in Vancouver going on these days. You name the media, they have bombarded our eyes and ears on a regular, hourly basis with the latest results from the Coast. Unfortunately, those results are usually about no snow, little law, and few medals - or better stated, bad weather, bad people, and bad luck.

Since I derive all my news from my faithful laptop or car radio, I can honestly say I haven't seen a thing about the Olympics. Perhaps you haven't either. So where have you been – stuck in an airport in Washington, DC? Well, whatever, let me me fill you in with what I call an abridged version of "Olympics for Dummies" - only an expression, people (nothing personal).

And I'll write this very slowly, so you can catch it all in the first heat, uh, run.

1. Historically, there have been two parts to the Olympics, winter and summer. At one one point, they were combined in the same year, so we got them every four years. They were split up a number of Olympics ago, so now we get bombarded every other year with one form or the other. The summer Olympics, for example, were held two years ago in China, and will return in another two years (there's your four years, Horace), in London, England.

These, then, are the winter Olympics – the time of year where snow reigns supreme. Or maybe it just simply rains. And rains and rains. It is so mild in Vancouver, at this point, that they had to truck in snow from various part of British Columbia. I offered to donate a little something from my driveway, but VANOC didn't seem interested. Ah, yes, there's no business like snow business.

2. Winter Olympics involve both snow and ice, unless it's Vancouver, then it includes rain and fog. But under normal conditions, the snow is outdoors on the mountains and the ice is indoors on the rinks. If things go according to Hoyle, most outdoor sports involved skis, poles, and the occasional rifle. You're clear on the ski and poles, but the rifle? Well, you are supposed to use it in the biathlon. What does one get if one wins, lead?

I should add that there are a couple of events that involve lying down on your back and flying furiously downhill on a saucer. That, I believe, would make it a flying saucer event. Actually, I think it is called a luge: If I am correct, it is one person on a luge and a team on a bobsled. Either way, going downhill that fast without real brakes and no turn signal could get someone arrested - or maybe even killed - if they were in a car.

And you can't forget about figure skating. Trouble is, you need the right figure to impress the judges.

3. It takes years of blood, sweat, and tears to prepare for this grand event - and that includes everyone from anarchists (blood) to athletes (sweat) to executives (tears). And maybe a little money, too. The years of effort are then stuffed into two weeks or so of the actual games. There are legacies, to be sure, in the form of various venues that are left after the last dope test is done. Calgary, host of the 1988 winter Olympics, can attest to that.

The questions begs: Is it worth the work? I say a hearty 'Yes.' And I say that despite not watching the Vancouver Canucks maintain their first-place lead in the Northwest Division, despite not having the regular news of the world at my fingertips each night, despite not even being that interested personally.

Seriously, folks, I don't know how these sorts of events can be actually assessed as to their success or not. There is nothing they could have done about the weather, nothing they could have done about the death of the luger from Georgia, but perhaps there could have been something done about those moronic rogues who vandalized businesses in downtown Vancouver.

Just an idea, but I personally would have put them on the top of Whistler's highest peak, strapped them to a luge each, then sent them downhill with a good swift kick. Anyone of them that survived would get a free pass to a Latvia-Belarus hockey game. In Belarus. Permanently.