It must have been 1992; I have a memory of watching Kristi Yamaguchi win the gold and then my mom helped my brother, sister and me put on our own little "olympics" where we "skated" (or danced with fury) around the living room (my brother's had lots of "karate" moves) and then she ceremonially presented us all gilt-plastic medals on red, white & blue ribbons we got in a kid's meal or something. I had to get the gold, of course, because my childhood was often me asserting dominance over my eager, kind little sister. I no longer feel terribly about this because the roles have switched, really, and I'm kind of more chill about most things than my siblings.
I never have trouble watching televised sports competitions from boxing to fashion design, but the Olympics have such a collective energy behind them that they force those memories to be made, you know, like "where were you when Kennedy died/9-11/etc.?"
I am troubled by the continual breaking of World Records. Most developed nations are supposedly getting massively obese, but these select few are getting faster and stronger. I sense a divergence of species, where the branches split. Fatties mate with fatties and athletes mate with athletes (or supermodels, naturally). In a few thousand years the chromosomes will be adjusted; lines will be drawn.
My only comfort is feeling my personal insignificance in this long, futile, fertile animal chain.
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