I was fascinated by the array of international athletes, all competing for a gold, silver or bronze medal. Most of the competitors were in their teens, 20's or 30'. But not many in the latter age group. The ice skaters were magnificant as they glided, spun around at break neck speed, jumped up and landed on one foot for the triple lutz, and sometimes fell. A few million hearts tumbled when that happened1
My major complaint was the interruption of my concentration and pleasure on the events when an anchor would babble. He or she was being paid to fill the void. How cruel! These artists high in the air (no pun intended) on skates or a snowboard, after four years of hard training and now four minutes of fame, maybe. How dare NBC allow this interference!
I suppose it's a sign of the times. Just as this generation's music has rocked rolled over us like wild animals on a binge to find food. They (the people) shout songs, raise their hands in rhythm and sweat profusely. God forbid they will have sex without a soapy shower first. But it's their trip, not mine.
Ironically, Jimmy Fallon, who is probably the most physically active talk show host ever, listens to Big Band music on the Sirius Network stations when he relaxes at home. All other times he is in the midst of total chaos. I know. I once hosted a radio show in Chicago from the VIP Room of the Playboy Club, under the helm of Hugh Hefner and his cohorts.
One of Hef's underlings, Benny Dunn, was an overweiight nerd who stuck to me like glue in the office, preparing for my nightly two-hour show. Benny was a loser, but he went back to the early days when Playboy Magazine began, and was loyal to Hef. His payback was staying on the payroll and being allowed to create mayhem.
For example, when I came to the office at 9 am, Benny had a list of the people I would be interviewing that night. In the case of an author, I had his or her books to read quickly and highlight pertinent paragraphs. For the visiting fireman, I was given the names of his family members, citations he had received and a humorous anecdote involving a fire that got out of hand. It was all boring stuff and I had to live with some of it.
My best guests were Jane Fonda, Helen Gurley Brown, Shel Silverstein and Rod Serling. Rod and I hit it off immediately and he did two nights with me on the air that remain memorable. Jane was tipsy, mumbled a lot and played with my knees underneath the round table and its long table cloth. I couldn't concentrate with that kind of foreplay. Helen was just plain charming and we were compatible playmates. Ditto for Shel and his magnificant poetry.
But I am off the subject. So back to the Olympics. For 2018 let's put duct tape on the mouths of anchors. They should behave in the same quiet manner that announcers do with golf tournaments. The only exception to keeping mouths shut would be a hole in one. Maybe an eagle. Nothing more.
Russia performed a marvelous display of creativity with their hundreds of participants, ending with grand concert music, spirited dancing, singing and fireworks. It was all breathtaking and deserving of the standing ovations, not to mention more gold medals than any other country.
I look forward to the 2018 Olympics in South Korea. Eat your heart out Un-jongUn!
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