Many years ago, we were at a family reunion in New Jersey at our aunt’s house. At some point, after adults had been imbibing, a friendly conversation ensued about speeds for the 100-yard dash and what each person had run for their best time in the past. Most of the people in the discussion were men in middle age or older. No one bragged, but one of the men had a bright idea.
“Let’s run the 7-yard dash. We have enough room to do it on the driveway,” he said. Genius.
Much excitement ensued. The party moved to the driveway. Men lined up at the starting line. Jockeying for position occurred, elbows thrust out, along with chattering, trash talking and chest pumping. Shortening the event opened up the possibility that anyone could win, even if you were over the hill.
I don’t remember who won. I do remember how funny it was, and have to imagine everyone who took part remembers it with a degree of humor. They may not remember a single other thing about that day, but ask about the “7-Yard Dash Olympics” and they’ll wax philosophic and probably crack a smile.
In the spirit of middle-aged out-of-shape people, shouldn’t we have some form of Olympic competitions for them? With humor and insight, we can establish a great program.
For example, for all the northerners, we can add the snowblowing or snow shoveling contest. Those who participate are giving a short driveway to clear in the snowblowing event or a even shorter front walkway or sidewalk to wipe empty for the snow shoveling contest. Sound the horn and watch the snow fly. Cheering would take a couple of minutes and the audience could then quickly go inside to sit around the fire or take a nap.
The yard mowing contest would be relatively simple as well. Set up a down and back route of 25 yards each way. Yank that starter and THEY’RE OFF! If the entrants tie in terms of speed, you can look for efficiency of their lines to see who the winner is: “Dilbert didn’t miss a blade of grass. Perfect rows. He’s the champion.”
My personal favorite is timing commercial breaks. Contestants are all given a TV remote control. Everyone is tuned to the same sports station. The goal of this event is to predict how long the commercial break will last without using a smart phone or timer.
Each competitor must turn to a different station (or stations) when the commercial begins and decide how long it will be before turning back to the show. The one who is closest to exact time that the commercials end is declared the winner. Bonus points are given if you tune back in at the exact moment the show goes live again.
Finally, we have the “Google It On Your Smart Phone In An Area Of Poor Coverage” contest. Most of us can relate to this frustration. You are given some bizarre fact and asked to verify its truth by Googling it. This contest must be held in the high hills of Pennsylvania or Maine, renowned centers of non-interactivity for cell service. You must be patient. You must decide whether to close down your browser and start over. You have to determine whether you miss-typed your entry or patiently wait while your phone hesitates. Such tension!
This Olympic events could be open to anyone. You could train or not. You could have some talent or not.
The fun part would be competing. Being able to say “I competed in the Middle-Aged Olympics” has a ring to it, doesn’t it?
“Let’s run the 7-yard dash. We have enough room to do it on the driveway,” he said. Genius.
Much excitement ensued. The party moved to the driveway. Men lined up at the starting line. Jockeying for position occurred, elbows thrust out, along with chattering, trash talking and chest pumping. Shortening the event opened up the possibility that anyone could win, even if you were over the hill.
I don’t remember who won. I do remember how funny it was, and have to imagine everyone who took part remembers it with a degree of humor. They may not remember a single other thing about that day, but ask about the “7-Yard Dash Olympics” and they’ll wax philosophic and probably crack a smile.
In the spirit of middle-aged out-of-shape people, shouldn’t we have some form of Olympic competitions for them? With humor and insight, we can establish a great program.
For example, for all the northerners, we can add the snowblowing or snow shoveling contest. Those who participate are giving a short driveway to clear in the snowblowing event or a even shorter front walkway or sidewalk to wipe empty for the snow shoveling contest. Sound the horn and watch the snow fly. Cheering would take a couple of minutes and the audience could then quickly go inside to sit around the fire or take a nap.
The yard mowing contest would be relatively simple as well. Set up a down and back route of 25 yards each way. Yank that starter and THEY’RE OFF! If the entrants tie in terms of speed, you can look for efficiency of their lines to see who the winner is: “Dilbert didn’t miss a blade of grass. Perfect rows. He’s the champion.”
My personal favorite is timing commercial breaks. Contestants are all given a TV remote control. Everyone is tuned to the same sports station. The goal of this event is to predict how long the commercial break will last without using a smart phone or timer.
Each competitor must turn to a different station (or stations) when the commercial begins and decide how long it will be before turning back to the show. The one who is closest to exact time that the commercials end is declared the winner. Bonus points are given if you tune back in at the exact moment the show goes live again.
Finally, we have the “Google It On Your Smart Phone In An Area Of Poor Coverage” contest. Most of us can relate to this frustration. You are given some bizarre fact and asked to verify its truth by Googling it. This contest must be held in the high hills of Pennsylvania or Maine, renowned centers of non-interactivity for cell service. You must be patient. You must decide whether to close down your browser and start over. You have to determine whether you miss-typed your entry or patiently wait while your phone hesitates. Such tension!
This Olympic events could be open to anyone. You could train or not. You could have some talent or not.
The fun part would be competing. Being able to say “I competed in the Middle-Aged Olympics” has a ring to it, doesn’t it?