Thursday, May 01, 2008

O Canada, Our Home and Ill-Dressed Land

Every once in a while, I convince myself that I'm going to get in shape. Of course (perhaps conveniently?), last week I managed to get blisters on the heels and little toes of both feet, considerably delaying my dream of becoming a runner. Or jogger. Or speed-walker. One day I will run a 5k. Or at least walk to work (just short of 10k). I actually enjoy walking everywhere. The trick is to convince my feet and footwear to play nice together. So I did sit-ups while watching American Idol instead.

Watching a professional athlete in his/her element inspires me. I want that discipline. I want that adrenaline. (And to be completely honest, I want that physique.) Which means I find the Olympics quite fascinating and motivational.

Secret of the day: When I was little, I wanted to become a figure skater and then convince Kurt Browning to be my partner. I still can't spin on ice. Or stop. When he fell during his short program in '94, I almost cried. I remember playing a really angry song at the piano that evening....

Today, the Canadian Olympic outfits were revealed. They do not inspire me to any sort of athleticism. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I think I might sit on my couch all weekend just to make sure that I don't become an athlete and accidentally end up at the Olympics, representing my country in red, white and GREEN?!

Remember when Roots designed the Canadian gear? We were the envy of nations. In 1998, the "Canada Poorboy" hat was seen on both Puff Daddy (his name at the time) and Prince Charles. International buyers were just scooping it up. Kids on the schoolyards exaggerated their saunters as they showed off their Olympic wear. Not this year. We will be laughed at. Canadian athletes will be blinded by the dizzying patterns they don. Or just confused as to whether they're in "uniform" or pajamas. The above red-and-white suit would be great loungewear in Miami.

Why? Oh, Hudson's Bay Company, you make striped blankets well. Stick to that.

The Poorboy on Canada's own "poor boy," Ross Rebagliati.
Say no to drugs, kids.

P.S. After staring at these outfits for a while, they're now almost non-nauseating. You know how you smell manure when you first visit a farm but eventually adjust and stop noticing? I'm slowly acclimating to the bizarreness.


1 comment:

michael lewis said...

Sit on your couch just to make sure you don't become an athlete.... That's awesome! You're making me laugh!

Hey, I met Ross. He came to where I work to do an interview. I think he was touring with Bell and a Bell Blimp. He brought his gigantic (grow-op) dog, which just made itself at home in the radio station and left a steaming pile of hemp laced crap on the carpet. Good thing it was the entry carpet which is replaced bi-weekly by Canadian Linen Services. (With the word "Linen" in the company name, why are are they doing carpets?)