I'm sitting here. Obviously. There's nowhere else I could be sitting. Bad opening. Let's try again.
I'm attending my daughter's rowing regatta. That's better- it tells you something you didn't know before. Not an interesting fact but at least one that is not self evident.
Does anyone have any idea what you're supposed to do at these things? My daughter only has 2 races in 9 hours so there's an awful lot of nothing to do.
Second aside- interesting mathematical idea; an awful lot of nothing. Varying amounts of bugger all. Multiples of zero that don't come out to zero. My PhD awaits.
It would seem that there is a requirement to be a howler monkey every so often;
jump up and down on the spot, bare your teeth and scream incomprehensible
things. There's no hope that the rowers can hear us over the wind, the distance
and the rasping pants of hyperventilation . But it appears to be something
that's expected.
There's also an element of cat herding involved. You're expected to chase the girls up to make sure they're ready for their events. Given that we seem to be able to crew our boats without the use of the press gang, they all wanted to be here. Therefore, I would have thought they would want to sort themselves out for the races but apparently not.
Beyond that I'm at a bit of a loss. How is sitting here writing a blog, doing my uni assignment or marking year 10 jazz arrangements helping my daughter or her team?
Perhaps there's something in it for parents? With some exceptions, the conversation is either about the weather (cold,wet and windy) or the rowing program (running behind schedule). Nothing much there of any great purpose.
Third aside: The rowing program would baffle Einstein. Somehow it was scheduled for a 7:30 start, started at a 7:30 start but was, at that same 7:30, already running behind. Throughout the day, the on-timeness drifts in and out at apparently random intervals. There's probably something relative about it all; the ripples generated by the rowing of the boats distorts the space-time of the banks of the river and the schedule bends and flexes like a gymnast in an adolescent's fantasy. Whatever the reason, the officials seem to be very worked up about it.
There's also an element of cat herding involved. You're expected to chase the girls up to make sure they're ready for their events. Given that we seem to be able to crew our boats without the use of the press gang, they all wanted to be here. Therefore, I would have thought they would want to sort themselves out for the races but apparently not.
Beyond that I'm at a bit of a loss. How is sitting here writing a blog, doing my uni assignment or marking year 10 jazz arrangements helping my daughter or her team?
Perhaps there's something in it for parents? With some exceptions, the conversation is either about the weather (cold,wet and windy) or the rowing program (running behind schedule). Nothing much there of any great purpose.
Third aside: The rowing program would baffle Einstein. Somehow it was scheduled for a 7:30 start, started at a 7:30 start but was, at that same 7:30, already running behind. Throughout the day, the on-timeness drifts in and out at apparently random intervals. There's probably something relative about it all; the ripples generated by the rowing of the boats distorts the space-time of the banks of the river and the schedule bends and flexes like a gymnast in an adolescent's fantasy. Whatever the reason, the officials seem to be very worked up about it.
Yes, you read that right. First race at 7.30. That means out of bed before 0600 on a Sunday! Just reach out your right hand for those "Father of the Year" nomination forms, if you please.
For some parents, of course, regattas are the opportunity to live their lives through their children. I genuinely fear for the cardiac health of some of the parents, screaming themselves into apoplexy trying to get the sound waves of their voices to add some momentum to the boats. From the throwing of water bottles that follows the getting of second place, I suspect they had invested a great deal of emotion in the idea that their daughter would get the opportunity to lie down for Australia.
Then there are those parents who would appear to be getting their exercise through their children. They come armed with an esky and an industrially reinforced picnic chair from which they don't deign to move their arses all day. There, that'll get me edited by the strict safety setting on Google! Darling Jenny is rowing every other race and I suspect mum is hoping that the calories that Jenny Darling doesn't need to burn will come off her mater's waistline through some quantum process that's related to the space-time distortions I talked about earlier.
The kids themselves seem only tangentially interested in the event. Let's face it, one of the benefits of rowing is that everyone wears those skin-tight Zoot suits. What better way to assess potential mates than in lycra? Boys, girls, fit - lots of time on their hands. This seems to be the real point of the day for our beloved offspring.
Now there's a disturbing thought!
The only people - apart from the aforementioned parents currently receiving attention and a certain level of voltage from the paramedics - who are emotionally invested in the day are the officials who, having been surgically attached to their megaphones, are using their new implants to harangue the kids to crew their boats (another odd verb) quickly and be at the starting line on time so that the sacred schedule remains sacrosanct. Clearly they haven't heard of relativity, or don't understand teens.
Perhaps I should be a little more charitable. Is there anyone that understands both relativity and teens?
Your challenge today is to find a piece of alliteration that is better than "sacred schedule remains sacrosanct"
Note: Lying down for Australia is not a thinly veiled reference to prostitution. Sally Robbins was an Australian rower than appeared to give up and lay down during an Olympic race in 2004.
Please share this with your friends.
Sound and Fury is published every Monday and Thursday morning, Australian Eastern Standard Time.
No comments:
Post a Comment