When life begins to shed a tear just perk up and say a cheer.
L’s eight-year-old daughter has become interested in cheerleading, which is totally foreign to L, a Frenchwoman with a typically Continental outlook. Cheerleading is a foreign concept in Mexico, too, so I am a bit mystified by L’s daughter’s interest, but it is being sparked by at least one American mom at the international school. That, of course, leads me to the topic of the Winter Olympics, which – due to my encounter with la gripe – the flu – I have attempted to watch on television.
Actually, I’ve been somewhat successful in watching some of the Olympics on Mexican TV channels. It seems that whenever I switch to an American channel I encounter a commercial or worse – a “human” interest story about the struggles the American athlete overcame to become a world-class snowboarder while living in Phoenix or some remote village in Nebraska. If I stick to the Mexican channels I get to see sports in which Americans are not participating, unlike the American channels that seem to mostly favor the sports in which Americans excel or participate in greater numbers.
One of the American channels I receive is out of Miami, and it had, as its introduction to coverage of the games one night, local commentators linking the games to a south Floridian’s participation and hopes she would earn a gold medal. One of the commentators said something to the effect that that’s what we want, that’s the goal isn’t it, more gold medals for America?