Showing posts with label Trinidad and Tobago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trinidad and Tobago. Show all posts

Monday, August 22, 2016

16 random thoughts on Rio Olympics/Lochte/etc.


• Does winning 51 more Olympic medals than the world’s second winningest nation mean we’ve made America great again?

• When announcers said divers were judged on size of the splash, I told daughters I’d divined a way to become the greatest one-time diver in Olympic history. “Before my dive, I’d ask them to remove all the water from the pool.” Like I said, it’d be a one-time feat.

• I forgave Ryan Lochte after about the 30th time I heard Matt Lauer blatantly prompt him to seek our forgiveness. I was, er, pissed at first because it seemed like a stain on Rio and the people of Brazil deserve better — the hosts were magnificent and did their nation a world of good. Lochte’s lies only serve as a contrast to the joyful reality. My best @8days2Amish tweet on Lochte: “I think Ryan Lochte would be found innocent if he were judged by a jury of his pee'ers, but the situation remains fluid.”

• I adore watching the Olympics and do my best to make sure my darling minions do the same. At its best the Olympics are a big middle finger to people who hate based on race and religion — and, yes, I’m aware of the inherent contradiction of not embracing people who hate.

• I entertained the kids by making up non-PC lyrics to the obscure national anthems of gold-medal winning athletes. Here’s what I sang while Kenyan marathoner Eliud Kipchoge was singing: We’re someplace in Africa! It’s very hot here! Our chief export is textiles! We stop what we’re doing every day at 4 p.m. to to tickle each other! Come visit and pet our goats!”

• My 10-year-old asked why USA was winning so many more medals than other countries. I told her, “It’s because we’re affluent enough that our youth can fritter away their lives learning to tumble, throw balls and jump when youths of poorer nations must work on farms for food or dig through garbage dumps to find essentials.” Then I told her to quit asking so many pointless questions and go separate the aluminum cans from the rest of the recyclables to help Daddy afford to buy another case of cheap domestic beer.

• Favorite Lochte headline comes from the New York Post: “Liar! Liar! Speedo’s on fire!”

•Fencing should be one of the most exciting of all the oddball Olympic sports. Instead, it is one of the least. They should make ‘em wear pirate garb and compete on planks above pools of hungry alligators.

• Having said that golf, to me, fell really flat. How come I, an avid golfer, couldn’t watch even a minute of Olympic golf, but was riveted to synchronized swimming?

• The daily news is dominated by angry, bloody faces and, happily, the Olympics are just the opposite. It proves the world is full to busting with good-hearted and appealing men and women. I hope after the closing ceremonies they all had sex with one another, conceived a bunch of children and that one day the whole happy gang of ‘em will immigrate to America.

• I’d like to know more about Keshorn Walcott, who is the Michael Phelps of Trinidad and Tobago (which is one country with two names; see link). Walcott won the bronze in javelin for TT to become the nation’s only medalist. Here’s what he said: “I praise God. I know the people have been coming down hard on the TT athletes and hopefully this will give them reason to ease up a little. I hope they keep having faith in me and know I am going to try my best each and every time. Thank you, my friends!” Guaranteed, you won’t catch Walcott peeing outside any gas stations. I hope Walcott immigrates to America soon, too.

• I guess one of the reasons I’m so forgiving of Lochte is I was just five days ago accused of acting like an immature jerk. I’d hosted a raucous little party in the corn hole room up here in the third floor penthouse of the Tin Lizzy just down the hall from my shabby little office. There was booze, loud music, scattered butts, a broken chair, etc. The next day Buck, my friend/landlord/chief inebriator here in Youngstown posted an angry note on my door: “Always clean up after yourself. That’s rule No. 1!” Honest, I thought I had cleaned up. Lesson: Buck ought to be glad he’s nothing more than my landlord and Lochte ought to be glad Buck’s not running the USOC.

• I’d like to train Val to get into bed each night by running down the hallway and doing Fosbury flop right on top of me like all the high jumpers do. 

• How did a nation renown for topless beaches wind up with BRA as the first syllable of its name?

• The Kenyan national anthem is, “O, God, of all creation.” The actual lyrics are: “Oh God of all creation! Bless this our land and nation! Justice be our shield and defender! May we dwell in unity! Peace and liberty! Plenty be found within our borders!”

• Guaranteed, Kenyan tourism will increase when they adapt their anthem to my lyrics.


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Monday, August 15, 2011

200 nations have read this blog!


The blog’s notoriously unreliable “stats” page says today there is reason to celebrate: someone from the 200th different nation stopped by to check out my blog.
Two hundred seems large enough to host a decent Olympics so I should be pleased.
But stats, the biggest time suck of a life that’s chock full of them, can’t be trusted so I won’t be getting drunk today.
Well, I might get drunk today, but news from stats won’t be the inspiration.
Here’s the problem: Right now, 7:30 a.m., stats is showing there are five page views for my home blog.
But when I click into the audience section, it shows there are 11 readers in the U.S., two in France, one in Brazil (hello Bob McCarthy!).
Even a math moron like me can see that number adds up to 14.
So which section of stats is telling the truth?
Just last week I awoke to read that 94 people from Slovenia stormed the joint and had one hell of a party.
They read more than a dozen distinct posts from across the three years I’ve been blogging.
I saw that and rushed out to get a haircut and shop for a new shirt then spent the whole rest of the day reading about Slovenia.
I wanted to make a nice impression in case some friendly Slovenians called to say they wanted to declare me king.
(Fact: there is no Fastvenia to give timely balance to Slovenia).
Clearly, someone started reading the blog, began sharing it with friends and soon Slovenia came to a grinding halt as the entire nation began immersing itself in my blog -- and that’s assuming Slovenia is populated by just 94 folks.
Then Slovenia started acting like so many of the girls I used to date. We went out one time, seemed to have fun -- and then they just vanished.
I half expect to see Slovenia driving by with a dude in a nicer car.
So what happened? Did stats err? Did it miscalculate? Did Slovenia wake up groggy and ashamed at having spent the night with me?
That’s not without precedent either.
It seems like stats is once again messin’ with Sasquatch.
It’s incredibly frustrating for someone who’s trying to build a readership.
But until someone suggests a more trustworthy option, I’m stuck with stats.
Here are the 199th through 200th nations who’ve registered at least one reader over the past six months.
191. Netherland Antilles
192. Macau
193. Lebanon
194. Macedonia
195. Qatar
196. Uruguay
197. Nepal
198. Sudan
199. Botswana
Clues to how at least some of this disparate group found its way to my blog can be found in the “traffic sources” section of stats.
It’s clear by some of the search terms that a niche group of deviants troll the internet for Amish porn and to their consternation, I’m sure, wind up here.
Search terms include “amish lingerie,” “amish threesomes,” and “amish boobs.”
It has me thinking I ought to inaugurate a “Search Term of the Day” feature.
Pity mingles with hilarity when I realize my blog’s responsible for this confusion.
So who secures the milestone no. 100? Envelope please . . .
It’s Trinidad!
And it’s Tobago!
It’s Trinidad and Tobago, one of the few nations on earth I can call “Sonny.”
The Republic of Trinidad and Tobago is a multi-island nation off the coast of Venezuela formed in 1976.
“Together We Aspire, Together We Achieve” is the nation’s charming motto.
In a divisive era in America when Republicans and Democrats can’t get together on anything, here is a Caribbean nation where two major islands figure they can do better as one than they could if they fended for themselves.
It sounds perfectly harmonious.
Stats tallies just one lone reader, but the optimist in me likes to think the entire 1.3 million carnival mix of Africans, Indians, Creoles, Portuguese, Venezuelans, Spaniards, Caribs, et al, are right now in the big capital library in San Fernando crowded around one warm computer screen.
Well, welcome to the nation of readers who’ve found their way to a blog whose name pays subtle tribute to how long it’ll be before economic considerations force me to give up things like electricity and store-bought butter.
Stick around a while and you’ll see there’s nothing truly Amish about my blog.
And, alas, the only real boob you’ll find here is me.