What the...?

Another Saturday, another ho-hum. Sadly, the most beloved and eagerly anticipated day of the week for normal people is the bane of existence for the bed-ridden. While the rest of the world is out doing, I am in, sitting.

No grocery shopping, no day-trips, no mindless roaming the aisles of Target like The Jerk (not "a", The"), "All I need is this picture frame....and this anti-wrinkle cream. That's all I need. .......and I need this (insert mindless, useless impulse-buy here)." My bank account is very happy about my bedrest.

Nope. My Saturday consists of flipping through the channels until my remote-finger has gone completely numb. How many times can one bear to sit through "Ghost Busters II" (who could tolerate it the first time around??) or bad sci-fi (much to husband's chagrin, I can hardly stomach really good sci-fi)? Every once in awhile there will be a fabulous movie--a "Say Anything" or a "When Harry Met Sally" type flick on, and then for two hours, I can relax and pretend that I chose to spend my day supine and lazy.

But today---wow. I am faced with a new head-scratcher of a sight on my television screen. It is the Olympics. The world's foremost authority on civilized sports. And what am I watching? The "biathalon"...and what does this said biathalon consist of? Skiing and skating? Maybe skating and luging? No. Apparently the two sports that compliment eachother in this case are--skiing and shooting. SHOOTING??? Really? On skis? In the snow? They actually have .22 caliber rifles strapped to their backs as they x-country ski, then fall to the ground and shoot little targets.

It must be incredibly challenging because the commentators are besides themselves with girlish glee as they describe the scene; one of these guys is a hoarse shout away from an embolism. But somehow I can't quite get into it. All I can wonder is "who ever thought this up???" Truly, after how many drinks did someone say, "You know what I feel like doing??" And how hard did his friends laugh at him as he strapped on his skis and loaded his gun? Or better, yet, could it be that this Olympic sport is actually the result of a drunken dare? Either way--I am willing to bet an excessive amount of alcohol was involved in its creation. There is no other reasonable explanation.

I guess there's nothing wrong with it, per se...its not like they are shooting at little Alpine woodland bunnies or anything, but really---skiing and shooting???? I can't wrap my head around that one.

I find amusement where I can, though. In my mind's eye, I keep replacing the face of the biathalon leader with that of Dick Cheney...considering recent events, this might be an Olympic sport he could really get into--one can't argue the cardiovascular benefits of skiing and clearly, he's a dead-on shot. Maybe the 2010 Olympics?