The Olympics: What I'll Miss and What I Won't

Well, the Olympics are officially over.  It was a fitting end, really -- after all, what could signify "over" more than a group of five broads in their late thirties dressed like aspiring Barbie dolls and singing "If You Wanna Be My Lover"?

The closing ceremonies were pretty much a who's who of bands-I-never-knew-were-British.  The only staple of British crazy who wasn't around was Elton John, which is too bad.  I've liked him a little bit more ever since he called Madonna a "fairground stripper".  Though, quite honestly, I have to admit the comparison isn't totally fair.  Surely fairground strippers have more dignity than Madonna.

All in all it is sad to see another Olympics come to a close.  But since it also means a merciful end to Ryan Lochte's obsessive oversharing, I will say a prayer of gratitude and remind myself never to swim in the Olympic pool.  Seriously, Ryan, my two-year-olds know how to make it to the bathroom during a swim.

I will also count myself lucky that I no longer have to listen to the Kanye West of running talk about how he is the "greatest athlete to live."  Memo to "legend" Usain Bolt: anyone who likes to talk about how awesome he is is officially not awesome.

Also officially not awesome?  The US men's track uniforms, which had backs full of holes that looked like someone got carried away with a three hole punch.  And, of course, the women's beach volleyball bottoms, but I've already covered (ha!) those.  And speedos, because they should just not be allowed in general.

I will miss the gymnastics, though.  Except for the rings, because it pains me to watch guys with bulging muscles looking like their faces are about to explode, and the balance beam, because it gives me heart palpitations.  Also Makayla Maroney's nasty attitude (or "nastitude," as Leah calls it) after she cheesed it on her last vault and landed herself a silver medal.  Honey, I realize you were disappointed, but now all we will remember about you is that you were a sore loser.

I will also miss Michael's random comments as he watched the games with me.  Especially his question during the men's BMX biking competition:  "Why aren't they riding with training wheels, Mom?"

Seriously.  You'd think safety was more important these days.