As a child, I never fully understood why my mother would clean the house so thoroughly before company came over. It always seemed odd that she would go to such extraordinary lengths to impress upon visitors that we lived in a state of cleanliness that I knew we did not.
She was raising three children, God bless her, and my siblings and I created the kind of mess that warranted an almost yearly tetanus shot. Between keeping us alive and working full-time, to clean the house daily would be like shoveling the sidewalk while the blizzard still blew.
Yet visitors would arrive to a pristine home and remark, “How do you do it? You keep everything so tidy and your kids are so quiet and well-behaved.” Little did they know we were silent from the lockjaw.
That”s the way I feel about the United States every time the Olympics come around. The outside world sees us waving our Stars and Stripes in an absolute frenzy, when, in reality, we live in an untidy country of bickering and divisiveness.
So how do the Olympics accomplish the seemingly overwhelming task of uniting our dysfunctional little family? How can an unknown 18-year-old, with nothing more than genetic good-fortune, make us set aside our differences for two weeks and pretend we are united as one?
The answer is simple: winning internationally makes us feel superior to them, despite the hypocrisy we sweep under the rug for the sake of posterity.
This has been happening for some time.
The 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, Germany was a platform for Adolf Hitler to showcase what he considered to be the superiority of the Aryan race. His hopes were dashed by a young black sprinter named Jesse Owens who brought home four gold medals for the United States.
Yet the home Owens represented was one filled with extreme segregation and abject racism. He would later say, “Hitler didn”t snub me — it was FDR who snubbed me. The President didn”t even send me a telegram.” In fact, after a ticker-tape parade down Fifth Avenue, Owens had to ride up the freight elevator at the Waldorf to attend an award ceremony in his honor.
But for a brief moment, Jesse Owens was “America”s Jesse Owens.”
Thankfully, a lot has changed since 1936 regarding the social temperature of America. But I can”t help but feel a sense of misplaced patriotism that only seems to manifest itself when others are watching.
During the 2008 Summer Games in Beijing, U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps captured the hearts and minds of all Americans as he chased down eight gold medals. Yet, less than a year later, photos emerged showing the 23-year-old taking a bong toke and he was immediately vilified throughout the country. Kellogg”s cereal dropped Phelps” sponsorship contract faster than you can say “L”eggo my Eggo,” and more than one late-night talk show host delivered jabs involving the swimmer”s lung-capacity.
Now, I”m not condoning him smoking pot, but merely pointing out how quickly our idea of an “American Hero” can change. And not quite four years after Chlorine-Gate, who is America pinning their hopes on for the 2012 games in London? That”s right! America”s very own Michael Phelps. Kind of reeks of “what have you done for me lately?”
Recently, American clothing giant Ralph Lauren set off waves of protest when it was reported that the design for American Olympic uniforms were manufactured in China. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid even suggested we should put all the Chinese-made uniforms in a pile and burn them.
Well, that”s a very patriotic sentiment from our Congressman, but what about the fact that roughly 95 percent of all clothing in the United States is made elsewhere? In the 25 years he”s held office, why has Senator Reid never suggested we burn all but 5 percent of our clothing?
My point is, let”s stop using the Olympic games as a sounding board simply because the world is listening. We should want a clean house because we have to live here all the time, not merely when others are around.
And let”s get real Kellogg”s — if it weren”t for stoners … you”d be out of business.
