How much of the convention are you watching?

The Democratic Convention is on this week, and I really ought to be watching more of it.

After all, I’m mildly interested in the upcoming presidential election, and the conventions are when the parties put together the complete package of who their candidate is and what he stands for. Besides that, there’s the whole obligation-as-a-newspaper-editor thing. For some reason, people seem to think newspaper editors ought to know what’s going on in the world. Go figure.

I have watched some of the convention, mind you. Monday night, for instance, I watched former Rep. Jim Leach, a Republican, explain why he was supporting Barrack Obama. Of course, the main reason I watched Leach is that the Iowan was once my own congressman. In fact, he was the very first congressman I ever voted for. As speeches go, Leach made some nice points, but he was about as interesting as watching cotton grow. So I think I deserve some credit for sitting through it.

But the upshot is that by the time the headliner of the night, Michelle Obama, spoke, I was ready to not be watching the convention anymore. Mrs. Obama is a good speaker, and would no doubt make a classy first lady; but I couldn’t bring myself to watch her entire speech. Promising myself to read all about it in Tuesday’s newspaper, I headed off instead to check my Facebook page.

Tuesday night wasn’t much better. I spent the early hours of the evening helping the local soccer association sign up players for the upcoming season and, by the time I got home, I was civic-dutied out. Part of me would have liked to have watched the Hillary drama unfold, but it just wasn’t in the cards. And you know what? When it really comes down to it, helping see to it that local kids have something fun to do on Saturdays this fall is a lot more important to me than watching a political pep rally.

And really, that’s all the party conventions are anyway. The real business of the convention could be completed in a day, but the event is spread out, for no other purpose than to springboard the frenzy of the fall campaign. When you read about how meticulously scripted the actual nomination process is, right down to the details of who will call for the "nomination by acclamation," it becomes pretty obvious that there's little "real" about the convention. It's all theatrics.

Not that they're the worst thing in the world, mind you. At the end of the day, it's probably good to at least have a vague realization that the conventions are happening. After all, they're no worse than the charades we'll see in the weeks to come known as "debates."

But as must-see TV, the conventions just don't make the grade.

Oh, sure, I’ll probably still tune in to a bit of the conventions. It’s always fun to watch the candidates give their acceptance speeches, see the balloons drop and watch the crowds go crazy. If nothing else, you’ve got to appreciate the conventions as a unique slice of the American-style democracy.

But if you’re looking for someone who will watch as much of the conventions as humanly possible, recording every minute to the DVR for future playback and evaluation, you’ll have to look someplace else. Because, quite frankly, I’ve got better things to do with my time. And I think you do, too.  

Putting new gadget to good use

When it comes to having the latest gadget on the marketplace, I’m usually a few years behind.

For instance, cell phones have been around for a good 15 or so years now, though it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I finally got mine.

And it wasn’t until last year that my wife and I finally got a DVR in our home, though the technology has been available since 1999.

My latest foray into the world of technical gadgetry has been the acquisition of an iPod. My friends and others around me have been downloading and uploading music to MP3 players of all sorts for years, but I was always the guy standing to the side, looking slightly confused by it all. But no more. Now I’m part of the club.

I like my iPod because it’s a virtually bottomless pit where I can store all the music I like. This way, when I listen to my music — whether it’s while I’m working out, folding laundry or just sitting on the patio — every song I hear is one of my favorites.

At present, I have 112 songs on my iPod, a number that has been rapidly growing. It’s an eclectic collection of my diverse tastes in music. In many ways, it’s almost a soundtrack of my life, as many songs represent different phases of my life.

For instance, there a couple of songs by Green Day: “Basket Case” and “When I Come Around.” These songs remind me of days hanging out in the college dorm.

There’s music from Phil Collins. “Do You Remember” always evokes memories of the final days of my junior year of high school, as I prepared to bid farewell to some of my closest friends who were about to begin a new phase of life.

There’s various Disney songs, such as “The Bare Necessities” and “The Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room” — songs that take me back to our family’s trip to Disney World last year.

There’s songs that were icons of my youth, like “Come on Eileen,” “Every Rose has its Thorn” and “Sweet Child of Mine.” I wasn’t even that big of a fan of bands like Poison or Guns N’ Roses back in the day, but now their music always takes me back to a different place in time.

Other songs are simply samplings of my favorite artists. There’s a whole slew of Billy Joel songs, ranging from big hits like “Piano Man” and “Allentown,” to lesser known tracks like “Summer, Highland Falls” and “Captain Jack.”

The same goes for REM, another all-time favorite for me. There’s mainstream hits like “Man on the Moon,” and more-obscure selections, like “Nightswimming.”

Of course, there’s also a handful of Hootie and the Blowfish selections. After all, Hootie’s hit album “Cracked Rear View” was pretty much standard issue for anyone who went to college in the early '90s.

My iPod collection also pays homage to the classics. I have songs from The Beach Boys, Elton John, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Johnny Cash. And I also have songs from artists with niche followings, like John Denver, Willie Nelson, James Taylor and Jimmy Buffet. I have songs from mainstream artists like John Mellencamp and The Dixie Chicks, and songs from obscure performers like Israel Kamakawiwo’ole and the Shaffer Brothers.

And just to be completely off the wall, my iPod also has music from Frank Sinatra, Neil Diamond and The Jackson 5, not to mention the college fight songs from several Big 10 universities.

So I guess you could say I’m putting my new gadget to good use. I’ve got to say — it’s pretty cool to be able to carry around what would otherwise be several dozen CDs on something just slightly thicker than a credit card.

And if nothing else, I figure anything that can bring Frank Sinatra and Guns N’ Roses together is something that ought to be treasured.

Olympics are great, but who do we root for?

I’ve been watching a lot of the Olympics this week. I don’t think there’s any other sporting event in the world that matches the pageantry and grandeur of the Games.

The only problem I’m having this year is trying to figure out who to root for. Sure, I cheer for the Americans. That's obvious. There's nothing like seeing Old Glory rise to the top during the medal ceremony. But other than the Americans, I don’t have many loyalties.

This used to be a lot easier. Back during the Cold War, it was pretty much a given that as Americans, we would root for our NATO allies, and cheer against all the countries of the Eastern Bloc. We cheered for countries like Great Britain, France, Canada and West Germany; and rooted like mad against the Soviets, the Bulgarians, the Hungarians and the East Germans.

But those days are long gone. The Cold War is over, the Iron Curtain has come down and Germany has reunited.

So, for better or for worse, and for lack of a better option, I’ve devised a new formula for deciding which countries I’ll cheer for. Basically, I decided I’ll favor those countries that speak English. It’s shallow, I know. After all, I’m not one of these English-only jingoists who looks down their nose at anyone who speaks a foreign tongue. But then again, it's all I've got.

So, along with the United States, I’ll cheer for Canada and Great Britain. I’ll cheer for Australia. I’ll cheer for places like Jamaica, Antigua and the Bahamas. I’ll cheer for certain countries in Africa, like Liberia and Kenya. I'll even cheer for India, just not very well.

Likewise, I’ll cheer against Germany and Italy and Russia and China. And I'll root like mad against the French.

———

The opening ceremonies last week were fun to watch.

My favorite part was the thousands of boxes — they called them “Chinese printing blocks,” I think — that moved in harmony, making waves, raindrops, Chinese characters and various other designs. I was sure such a feat could only be accomplished via complex computer programming, so I was shocked when the performers inside the boxes revealed themselves at the end. It was quite the stunner.

Of course, I’m also a big fan of the Parade of Nations. While I always swell with pride when the American delegation comes in, I also found it to be a powerful moment when the host Chinese arrived, to the deafening roar of the crowd. I think it’s sometimes hard for us Americans to comprehend that people in other countries love their country as much as we love ours.

And as much as it’s neat to see the world powers march in — countries that send hundreds of athletes to the Games — I also get a kick out of seeing the countries that send just a handful of athletes, like Botswana, with its two competitors, or Nauru and Togo, with their single-member delegations.

For these athletes, Olympic glory is not defined by gold medals, fame and endorsement deals. No, for them, the glory is just being there. And therein lies the real majesty of the Olympics. That's what slogans like "One World, One Dream," are all about.

———

Think what you will of George W. Bush, but the president has been in his element this week while attending the Games.

Bush became the first U.S. president to attend an Olympics held on foreign soil, and he seemed to be having a ball. He posed for photos with members of the U.S. and Chinese baseball teams. He got sandy, playing beach volleyball with American stars Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh. He even huddled with members of the U.S. men's basketball team prior to their Olympic opener.

But my favorite moment was when Bush arrived at the opening ceremonies. He was seated in the VIP section, but as he made his way to his seat, there was no grand ceremony. There was no "all rise for the president of the United States" moment. Instead, George and Laura simply made their way to their seats like a couple of normal people walking into the stadium.

At the Olympics, I guess, egalitarianism rules the day.

It's raining!!

It's 10:45 a.m. Thursday, and it's actually raining in Blytheville. Quite hard, actually.

Take a good look, folks. This may not happen again until October.

Dreams of Olympic glory quickly fading

My first introduction to the Olympic Games was a good one.

The year was 1980, and the event was the infamous “Miracle on Ice,” when Team USA upset the mighty Soviets en route to a gold medal in hockey. It was one of the greatest moments in the history of sports, so it’s not surprising I was hooked. I’ve been a fan of the Olympics ever since.

But the politics of the day meant there was no Summer Games for the United States that year, so my first experience with the Summer Olympics wasn’t until four years later when the Games came to Los Angeles. This time around, it was the Soviets and their Eastern Block opting to stay home, which resulted in a complete and total butt-kicking by the Americans. Of course, for a 12-year-old, there's nothing better than a complete and total butt-kicking, and my fandom of the Olympics became even more solidified.

It was around about that time that I decided I wanted to compete in the Olympics myself one day. After all, who wouldn’t dream of standing atop the medal podium, getting all teary-eyed, watching Old Glory rise above the flags of other nations as "The Star-Spangled Banner" played?

I was pretty sports-crazy in my younger days; but even then, I had a pretty strong suspicion that my best talents might not be in the athletic arena. So as I pondered my quest for Olympic gold, many of the traditional sports — competitions that involved such things as running or jumping — were immediately laid aside.

But lucky for me, the Summer Games were full of obscure and unusual events, and I reasoned that surely there must be a niche where I could excel. While the other kids were jockeying to show off their sprinting, swimming or long-distance running skills, I figured I would make my mark in a sport with a little less competition. But the problem was finding the right sport.

I thought about Archery. I’d tried it at Cub Scout camp, and I figured it couldn’t be too hard to pull back a string and let it rip. But it turned out my mom didn’t think too much of the idea of arrows flying around the backyard.

I thought about Rowing. But the only access to water I had was in a friend’s backyard pool. And I soon learned there was a big difference between paddling around on an inflatable raft and Olympic-level rowing.

I thought about Fencing. After all, I’d watched the “Star Wars” films, and acted out the lightsaber duels a couple hundred times with my friends. Fencing couldn’t be too different, could it? But Mom nixed this one, too.

I thought about the Modern Pentathlon. There probably weren’t more than three or four kids in the country my age who even knew what it was. Surely I could make the team in this one. But seeing as how the event includes disciplines such as pistol shooting and the aforementioned fencing, it never had a chance.

Everywhere I looked, no matter what sport I tried, I hit a brick wall. I lacked the horse to try Equestrian. I lacked the net to try Badminton. I lacked the interested friends to try Field Hockey. And the thought of weightlifting was simply laughable.

There was only one event in which I had the skill, equipment and parental permission to make it all the way; and that was Croquet. But unfortunately for me, Croquet was discontinued as an Olympic competition in 1900.

And that's why, at the dawn of the 29th Olympiad, it's become pretty obvious that my dreams of Olympic glory are never going to be fulfilled. My role in the Games is but to sit on my couch and watch and cheer. And even though I’m not the one on the medal stand, I still reserve the right to get a little teary-eyed when they raise Old Glory and play "The Star-Spangled Banner."

But then again, the Winter Olympics are just two years away. Do you think I could learn Curling by then?