In Sync
By Mark D. Crantz
“Crantz, you lead such an exciting life,” wrote a recent reader. “What are you doing this week? I want to be like you. Being like Mike is so yesterday. Do you have your own line of nap shades?”
Thank you for noticing, my one and only fan. For the rest of you out there, my mailbox is not full, so get with it. Get in sync. Be like Crantz. Watch the Olympics. There’s still time. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait another four years to be like me. Who can wait that long for nap shades?
You probably want to ask me, ‘What is your favorite sport at the summer Olympics?” I’d say looking for Matt Lauer. Where in the world is he? Never mind. I’m not some roving reporter over there looking for him. I’m a stay-at-home reporter because of my wobbly knees. However, I can report from home that all the celebrities are in Paris. There’s Nicole Kidman, Keith Urban, Tom Brady, Natalie Portman, Snoop Dogg, Martha Stewart and on and on. The only three who aren’t there are J. Lo, Ben Affleck and me. Hmmm. No, it’s not a love triangle. I have nothing to do with those two. And they have nothing to do with each other, come to think of it. Just three random individuals, probably not at the Olympics, due to their own set of wobbly knees. I’ve spent my home reporting trying to devour all the snacks that the Olympic commercials are pushing. It’s tough keeping up with their recommendations. I’m feeling a bit woozy.
My favorite sport is the synchronized diving. How did this event or its sister event, synchronized swimming, start? I did some research after grabbing a recommended bag of Cheetos. My research produced an orange and sticky mess of it. Yuck. Luckily, the recommended Dawn dish detergent came to my rescue. I figured if it can clean up oily ducks it should be a cinch to clean up orange research notes. I figured wrong. Oh well, I’ll go with my gut. That’s what Olympic athletes do anyway. My gut tells me that synchronized diving and swimming started at home. Many of us have grown up with annoying brothers and sisters. Remember those early years when you asked your little brother or sister, “How’s it going?” And they answered, “How’s it going?” You’d say, “Don’t do that?” They would reply, “Don’t do that.” “Oh, boy.” “Oh, boy.” “I’m going to box your ears.” “I’m going to box your ears.”
Thankfully, most of us refrained from boxing their ears. These annoying siblings outgrew this mimicry stage. But a few future Olympians did not. They continued to follow their brothers and sisters and mimicked their every move. The best mimics go to the Olympics. The rest of us relied on restraining orders.
I go to the kitchen to get a Hershey bar. Advertisers are pushing s’mores. When I get back to the couch, a minivan full of day-trippers have taken my space. That will teach me to download the Laguna Beach parking application faster. Now I have a couch full of day trippers from Barstow. What should I do? I decided to be hospitable. “Can I get anybody a snack?” All eight of them answer, “Can I get anybody a snack?” I smile at them. They smile back. Oh, this may work out just fine. Their favorite sport is synchronized snacking. They want to be just like Crantz.
Crantz tells the Indy that the hardest Olympic volunteer to keep is the guy who spots where the Javelin lands. Stick to synchronized diving.
