Pleasant Distractions

I'm in need of distractions this week, as I can't be thinking about the things I can't be thinking about.  If you know what I mean.  (Some of you do.) (And I thank you for your sweet calls/emails/prayers.)

So if you have any fun internet distractions, send them my way.  And I'll share here some of the fun things I'm finding.  Like this article from The Hairpin on Monday, entitled "The 10 Greatest Figure Skaters Who Never Won an Olympic Medal."

Amazing.  Uh-maze-ing.  I loved everything about this article.  My figure skating obsession reached it's apex in the early 90's, so this review of skaters from that era was a fun trip down memory lane.

Surya Bonaly!  Man, that girl brought the scowling drama, big jumps, and interesting eyeshadow. Rocky Marval and Calla Urbanski - they were so fun to watch and such classic underdogs (a truck driver and an aging waitress!?) to root for. Nicole Bobek - oh, poor Nicole. The article pretty much nails it in describing Nicole as only having "two settings: off and on."  But when she was 'on,' she was such a pretty skater.

And Tonya Harding - well, what more can be said?  I'll admit that, before the Nancy Kerrigan scandal, I was a Tonya fan.  Girlfriend was the first American lady to land a triple Axel in competition, and that's not nothing. But I do wonder if her 1991 performance at Nationals, set to a mash-up of "Send in the Clowns" and Tone Loc's "Wild Thing," shouldn't have perhaps clued us in that something was...disjointed about this troubled skater.

Wanna take a wild guess what my favorite part of The Hairpin article was?  Yup.  You know it was the link to this Kurt Browning video.  Heart-throbby, mullet-ed, baby-faced, pun-ny, humble, Kurt Browning.  (Am I the only one swooning?  If so, that's ok.  I'm all right with that.  I still love you, Kurt!)

In related news, I miss the Olympics.  4 months until London!

Miracle on Ice

I've been avoiding Rockefeller Center recently, because the crowds...oh, the crowds.  Madding.  I've stayed far from it.

But on Thursday morning, as I left Breakfast Club and headed to work, I thought the hour might be early enough to stop by and check out the tree without being trampled by tourists.  So I detoured a block north to check it out.

The Today Show audience on the plaza was pretty sparse, the area was relatively quiet.  I saw some people peering down at the rink, so I wandered over to look too.

And there - on the ice - was a lone figure.  Tall, sinewy, dressed in black.  I did a double-take.  Could it be...?  Was it really him?

Yes.  Evan Lysacek.  In the flesh.  On the ice.

I watched as he skated over and conducted a short interview with some Today Show lady.  Then she exited the rink, Evan took center ice, the music started, and this happened:

Then this:

And also this:

It was...oh, I don't know...AMAZING!!!

People around me were asking, "Who's that?" and a tourist on my left said, "Is that Brian Boitano or something?"  I gently corrected him, "No.  It's Evan Lysacek."

"Is he famous or something?" another spectator asked.

"Yeah, well he's a 2-time national champion and Olympic gold medalist," I said casually.  No biggie.

Evan finished his program, cutely bowed, and skated over to the boards.  I reluctantly headed to work.

That last-minute detour put me in the right place just in time to witness a little miracle moment.

I gotta detour more often.

With Hearts A'Glow

(source of this spiral)

The end of the Olympics feels akin to the day after Christmas, doesn't it?  The anticipation and the drama and the excitement are now over.  The medal-winners put away their shiny toys and go back to work (whether that be selling cereal or stocking shelves at the Home Depot).  Bob Costas, like Santa Claus, disappears from our lives and flies off to wherever it is he resides between games.  And the rest of us are forced to get off the couch, start returning phone calls, and find other plans for our evenings. 

Sigh.  Before we move on, let's take one final look back...

Ice 'Capades

Only a few more days remain of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games.  Are you sad?  I'm kinda sad.  What will we do & what will we talk about once they're over?  I'll have to take up knitting (again), or read up on health care reform, or finally get around to writing my Christmas cards, or find some other sort of activity to fill my time until the drama begins anew on July 27, 2012. (London!)

But as long as the torch still glows in Canada...let's discuss!

In Short: The Short

Snowy Boston, 12/31/09

The title of this post may be something of a misnomer: my comments on last night's Olympic figure skating event are anything but brief. I managed to fill several pages with my thoughts on the men's short programs; in fact, the lengthy diatribe below is actually the pared down version of the original manifesto.

I realize that my commentary is unsolicited, and I'm guessing that you probably don't care as deeply (nor as dorkily) as I do about this event, so please do not feel any compunction if you choose not to read this entire post.  I actually encourage you to spend your time doing something more worthwhile than reading this post, such as watching these heart-warming (and completely realistic) scenes from The Cutting Edge.

However, if you'd like to know what I think...

Shivers

Things are about to get sporty around here.

We're nearly two weeks away from the start of the 2010 Winter Olympics. And as you've probably figured out by now, I love me some Olympics.

To kick things off - let's talk about skating! (There are few things I like to discuss as much as skating. And since there aren't many others out there who also like to talk about skating, I often end up discussing it with myself. That's an unfortunately true story.)

The national figure skating championships concluded this past weekend in Spokane, WA. The results determined the team of skaters who will journey to Vancouver next month to represent the U.S.

My friend (and former roommate) Abbey-Denise invited me over on Sunday to watch the televised broadcast of the event.

A little background: The U.S. men's competition has been dominated in recent years by the Johnny Weir-Evan Lysacek rivalry. I'm sure you've read all the articles about it.

You haven't? Well, here's what you need to know: the galloping peacock parody in Blades of Glory was based on one of Weir's actual costumes (his was a swan). In contrast to Weir's artistry and feathers, Lysacek has positioned himself as the more serious sportsman, focusing on the technical (and point-garnering) aspects of the sport. There is no love lost between these two skaters, and they make no effort to hide that.

I've been a big fan of Lysacek since his 2005 season. While Weir is admittedly talented, he is inconsistent. Lysacek is more focused, more athletic, and (in my opinion) more charming. Heading in to the national championships, I expected to find myself cheering for Lysacek once again.

But when Abbey-Denise and I tuned in on Sunday, the Evan Lysacek we saw was covered in feathers (?!) and looking just a tad gangly and frenetic. He flubbed a few jumps and failed to impress.

And that's when Jeremy Abbott skated in and stole my heart.

I had somehow missed his win at last year's national championships. (In my defense, I was living in Brooklyn at the time. I missed a lot out there.) But this year, when Jeremy took the ice and skated two spectacular programs, I took notice.

I also took notes. Here is a rough transcription of our viewing of Jeremy's long program:

(Source)

[Jeremy takes the ice and begins a smooth opening footwork sequence]

Me: Look at his edge-work! The way he feels the ice! You know? There are just no wasted movements!!

Abbey-Denise: Yeah, I guess.

[Jeremy lands his opening quad jump]

Me: [enthusiastic clapping] Nice! His transitions are so purposeful.

[Jeremy lands a triple-triple combination; the music swells in intensity]

Me: I don’t know, there’s just something about him…something that reminds me of Kurt Browning.

Abbey-Denise: Oh, yeah?

Me: Yes, he has such grace and artistry, but there’s also such power. His skating is smart. Just like Kurt.

[Music softens.]

Me: You see!? There’s a vision, a passion in Jeremy’s eyes. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Abbey-Denise: Do you want another drink?

Me: Wow. Wow. Wow. He has great arm movement and positioning. And extension. And his direction changes…wow. WOW.

[Jeremy nails his last jump of the program]

Scott Hamilton (on the TV): Game over!

Me: [kneeling on couch; hands clasped together; eyes tearing] Abbey, he's AMAZING!

[Music swells again, as Jeremy enters his last footwork pass]

Scott Hamilton (on the TV): That was a beat down, is what that was!

[Jeremy begins his final, flawless spin]

Scott Hamilton (on the TV): How do you defend your national title? You kick everybody’s back-side, that’s how! You are looking at your U.S. champion!

Me: [weeping silently]

Sandra Bezic (on the TV): That performance gave me shivers.


Me, too, Sandra. Me, too. And bravo, Jeremy. Bravo.

We'll see you in Vancouver.

If I Had a River...

My friend, Bananas, was in town this week to attend a career workshop type-thing. She had to do a lot of exercises related to interests/strengths/goals/aspirations. You know the type - "If money were no object, what would you do with yourself?" That kind of thing.

One interesting question Bananas had to answer, and one she asked me as we walked home via Madison Avenue, was, "If you had $10 million that you had to spend on yourself, what would you do with it?" No giving it to charity, no paying off your parents' mortgage, no buying Vespas for deserving Italian nuns - you have to spend this (imaginary) money on yourself. What would you do?

We were waiting to cross 57th street when she posed this question - Tiffany's was one block away (oh, those coveted blue boxes!), stores filled with beautiful things by nearly every famous designer were within walking distance. But the very first thought in my head, the instantaneous idea, the no-question-about-it- this-is-what-I-would-buy image was not jewelry or pretty things, not a Rogue nor a condo, but: An ice skating rink.

Of course, of course, I would build myself an ice-skating rink, and be as happy-ever-after as this bloomer-ed Alpine chick. Skating makes me so very happy.

What I haven't seriously dissected before, though, is why it brings me such joy. What is it about this activity that makes me so readily willing to drop a cool (imaginary) $10 mil on it?

As I'm searching for career guidance, for vocational discernment, for a sense of purpose and that all-too-elusive "life plan," what can I learn about my love for skating that might point me in the direction of a fulfilling professional contribution*? What are the underlying elements that bring me joy, and what are the transferable skills I can take away from skating? That is, what can I learn about myself through this hobby that might also shed light on what type of job I would enjoy?

Well, I'll have to think about that and get back to you. I also plan to include some blog-posts detailing the arc of my figure skating obsession, from the early days until now, though that will be mostly for (my) entertainment value. Not too sure I'll be able to glean any vocational wisdom out of the sordid tale, but you never can tell.

Happy Weekend! Hope everyone has some activity planned that makes them happy, in an ice-skating sort of way.

(*PS - thanks to Bananas' workshop for supplying me with "professional contribution" as a wonderful alternative to the stifling word/concept "career" )

For the Love of Will & NYC

Sunday morning, after churching with my artsy Presbyterian set in the West Village, I headed over to the Lower East Side to visit my favorite Hasidic merchants, and there on Delancey Street I was passed by a man on a unicycle, riding fast as though on a mission (late for a dim sum date? heading for the Williamsburg Bridge to complete his bi-borough ride? who knows the plans of a unicyclist?) As he pedaled swiftly by, his unexpected presence reminded me that I love New York for all its unexpected weirdness. And I began to worry about leaving it; Vancouver, darling, I'm sure you have your charms - but can you compete with this island that seemingly has it all?

*******************************************

I found out this morning (how could I not have known sooner!?) that Will Ferrell has a new movie coming out next month. This alone would be reason enough to celebrate, but wait, there's more: this new movie is going to be about.....FIGURE SKATING! Two of my great loves - Will Ferrell and figure skating - teaming up at last for a full-length feature film. March 30th cannot come soon enough. Blades of Glory seems like it will be a stellar addition to the already sterling Ferrell ouevre of low-brow comedy. Can't wait!

(Traffmeister Jenneral - is this, or is this not, a good excuse to fly your little self home from SE Asia to see this movie with me?)

A Break from the Interviewing Thread

Tonight I caught my first glimpse of ice-skating this season, in the form of TV's Ice Wars: USA versus the World. Now, I admit this is not necessarily high-brow skating (interesting choreography and technicality being exchanged for crowd-pleasing pandering), and usually I would not go in for anything involving the strategy "USA versus the World." (this is why I didn't vote for Bush. Ha!) However, Ice Wars does have one thing going for it...and his name is Kurt Browning.

Yes, yes, my fondness for this Canadian superstar has not abated over time. Though he has lost his hair, he has not lost his place in my heart. The obsession began in college, when I first tuned in to the many merits of Kurt. At the time, roommates and boyfriends alike mocked my heart-shaped shrine to the 4-time World Champion, but I didn't care. Though the Olympic gold medal eluded Kurt throughout his amateur career, his wit, his charm, his unparalleled footwork and showmanship have always made him gold in my book. As one fan's poster at tonight's event summed up so eloquently: "Kurt is Kool."

Other notes on Ice Wars:
Was it wrong to feel a twinge of satisfaction when Brian Boitano tripped on his signature 'Tano Lutz? Probably yes, but I feel it may also be pay-back for Brian having the gall to skate to Sinatra's "That's Life." You can't skate to that song unless you have grit (like Frank did) to back it up, and 'Tano doesn't have grit. He's really better suited for songs like "The Girl from Ipanema."

Hometown-boy Michael Weiss skated to "I Can Only Imagine" - a song about heaven and Jesus. Is Michael a Christian and I didn't even know it!? Time to google-investigate...

When a Broadway Baby Says Goodnight...

...it's early in the morning.

Started my weekend on Friday night with a lovely Shabbat dinner at the Newlywed's home in Brooklyn, which involved the very traditional Shabbat Reading Aloud from The Onion.

Saturday found me standing in the rain for an hour, the fruits of which were half-price tickets for a friend and I to see A Light in the Piazza. The music was fine, sets and costumes great, the story was questionable (Clara is an emotionally-handicapped American who doesn't speak any Italian, and Fabrizio is a young Italian who doesn't speak any English, but why should any of that matter if they are in love? Right?) Saturday night, looking fancy, at Lincoln Center: priceless. Afterwards we met up with some friends of my friend for dinner and drinks on the Upper West Side. One of these friends (let's call him "R") asked if we had been to the Bryant Park skating rink yet, as it is closing January 16th. I hadn't been yet, so I resolved to go the very next day.

Which was today (Sunday). So I went skating, along with many, many other people. Including a nun in full-on habit with dangling rosary, old-fashioned ice skates and cape! You don't see that every day. And who should I run into, but my new friend "R"? So we skated and discussed the nuances of hockey (he) versus figure (me) skates, the difficulty of finding a church and meeting people in NYC, and if that nun was really a nun or just some crazy person dressed as a nun.

All in all, a good weekend. Though one without much sleeping. I better get to bed, as my racist employer isn't letting us celebrate MLK day tomorrow. :) Just kidding, employer! You probably aren't racist. Happy MLK day, everyone! May your wildest dreams come true.