Today in class one of my students started trying to tell me about the Olympics. They helpfully informed me that the games are going on in Vancouver which, astonishingly, is in Canada. They also pointed out that that is where I come from.
Don't miss a trick these kids.
Then they tried to tell me about the Canadian hockey team. They may have won something, or maybe they will win something, and I am not sure if we were discussing the women's or the men's team. Something also happened to a Canadian skier which, judging by the sheer volume of waving arms and flailing bodies, looked like it must've hurt. In case I wasn't clear on that point, they kept turning their feet backwards at the ankle and making 'crack' noises.
Thus prompting this post:
Olympic whine, day 2.
I have been dwelling on my lack of access to on-line Olympic coverage somewhat remorsefully; nay, relentlessly; nay, like someone with a broken tooth whose tongue just cannot stay well enough away despite the occasional rockets of pain it causes.
I do not understand why they cannot live-stream the Olympic coverage from the television stations. Advertisers get more viewers for the same buck, more people suffer through their ads, more in fact that the folks that video the olympics and can fast forward through the same freaking stupid ad they have seen 45 times every day for the last 12 days.
I just don't get it.
Personally, and bitterly, I think the IOC are a bunch of dinosaurs who have trouble sending e-mail and have no idea of what the heck is going on out in cyber-space. No. Idea.
That is the definitive word of a woman reduced to getting her Olympic coverage from eight-year-old low-level English students.
It is a sad, sad thing.