The Winter Olympics

Just about the only time I read the sports page is during the Olympics. It's hard for me to muster enthusiasm about golf, spring training or anything related to NASCAR, but I enjoy the Olympic stories. Of the thousands of competetive athletes, journalists pick a few faces to hype prior to the games and closely follow their progress and behavior through the events. Although most articles focus on the young American athletes most likely to win gold medals, I don't think hearing the Star Spangled Banner is the most important part of the Olympics (besides, they play it enough at every other sporting event). The Olympics generate worthy underdog stories in which athletes from smaller or poorer or otherwise unexpected countries win medals or simply fulfill personal goals. The sports page then occasionally becomes filled with dramatic tales of accomplishment, sacrifice, and luck.
These people spend their lives perfecting their skills in sports I've never even heard of and have no chance of even attempting. It's amazing to watch the athletes perform and celebrate being one of the world's best in their field. It's fascinating to think about the cultures and histories of the participants even while being mesmerized by their agility.
Athletes have a natural desire to excel, and their countrymen and women want to share that victory with a high rank in the medal count, but the Olympics are also supposed to foster world peace and cooperation. When people around the world can watch competetors from different cultures shake hands or hug and earnestly congratulate one another on their efforts, it creates a little spark of hope, turning me into a temporary sports fan.

A Manatee Spa

Apparently, manatees don't fully appreciate the Florida winter. I guess that even in the sunniest state, living under water can get a little chilly at times, so these strange creatures have decided to take advantage of the human effect on the environment. Using the industrial revolution to their advantage, some sea cows congregate near a coal power plant and soak up the warm water emitted from within. This virtual hot tub attracts manatees (and curious people like me) throughout the winter.

I felt quite skeptical about going to see manatees in an industrial location, but I was impressed with the effort at education and conservation that was presented at the viewing center. The need for safe areas for these threatened animals outweighs my unease at the human effect on the water temperature. The manatees still have to feed elsewhere--their vegetarian diet doesn't grow in the power plant inlet--so they remain wild, foraging and fending for themselves. They then can return to their spa and nap in the warm water, giving people the unique opportunity to view these creatures without taming or harming them. It's a good example of the necessary compromise between environmental protection and modern development.

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Thoughts At Sea Level

It's been over six months since I've hiked up a mountain. That statistic probably doesn't mean too much since it's February and worthy mountains are completely snow-covered. I should say instead that it's been over six months since I've seen a mountain. The past half year has contained no hiking, no skiing, no scenic drives with picturesque viewpoints. I've left the west far behind.

I can walk on pleasant beaches, see alligators in the wild and bask in the sun year-round, but nothing compares to the beauty and peace of an alpine hike. Climbing a summit brings a calm feeling of accomplishment along with the fantastic views. The fresh air rejuvinates like nothing else. I miss stepping over roots and rocks, smelling the pines, feeling the spongy moss along the trail, and rounding a bend to discover a beautiful vista.

My photo albums of the past few years are filled with pictures of mountains. I have pictures of nearly every hike, and it's hard to find a bad shot (unless it's of me, dirty and tired and trying to cross a river). What should I photograph now? I can only have so many pictures of my cats (even though they are precious treasures), and I've already snapped plenty of photos of pelicans, lizards and sand.

I like the Spanish moss dripping from the trees and the exotic birds near every stream. I appreciate sunny beaches and lazy rivers. I delight in seeing dolphins and manatees playing in the open water. I enjoy riding my bike for miles without getting winded. But I still miss the mountains.

Chocolate Conundrum

I'm in need of some chocolate, but February is causing trouble. I don't want heart-shaped chocolate or chocolate with pink foil wrapping. I have no interest in mystery chocolate containing fluffy goo or fruity liquour. I want smooth, dark chocolate without nuts or caramel or nougat. And I don't want to wait for February 14.

I've always felt Valentine's Day to be a stressful popularity contest. As a kid, receiving Valentines from friends was fun, but getting one from someone uncool risked making you look uncool, too. Since my mom made sure I gave a Valentine to everyone in the class, I was unable to show my true feelings except by giving the ugliest ones to the kids I didn't like. I'm sure no one but me noticed, which defeats the cruel spirit of Valentine's Day.

As a teenager, to get no flowers or presents was highly embarrassing: it meant no one thought you were special. To get tokens of affection from an unwanted admirer was worse. Could you accept the gift but not the giver on such a day?

The only good Valentines I remember came from my dad. Those were kind and chocolatey and without hidden meanings or agendas. It also meant I got a present and my brother didn't, ha ha. (See how nasty this holiday is?)

As an adult, I find the mandatory tokens off-putting and tacky. Valentine's Day seems simply a day for show-offs, with men staging elaborate displays in order to score points. Sending flowers to a woman's work may look like a gesture of love, but it is really a political move. A public display provides proof that she is important and allows her to gloat over her co-workers.

Valentine's Day is all about status and pride, not romance, and I am just going to try to ignore it. I neither need nor want anything promoting such a vicious holiday.

Besides, I hate pink.

Anyone wishing to show their affection for me in chocolate and flowers is welcome to do so any day except 2/14. Especially on 2/8...

Groundhog Day Means Nothing in Florida

Does anyone really celebrate Groundhog Day? I've never heard of Groundhog Day parties or presents--except for Bill Murray humorously trapped by tourist festivities in Puxatawney, PA--and it makes absolutely no sense in a place like Florida. When winter days can be sunny and 80 degrees, who would want a rodent to predict an early spring?
I do find it interesting that Grounghog Day appears on calendars as a day to be remembered, yet I never even can remember if I'm rooting for that manipulated beast to see his shadow or not. I am, actually, rooting for him to clamp his nice big chompers down on some reporter's nosy finger and escape into the hills (again, something that would never happen in Florida, because, besides the lack of winter, there's no such thing as a Florida hill. Come to think of it, there are probably no Florida groundhogs, either. They should have Lizard Day or something where the lizard emerges from under the palm tree, and if he feels the need to do a push-up, it will be a long, humid summer. If he runs straight across the path, there will be a risk of hurricanes.)
Well, at least it's a holiday without much commercial value. At least I'm not expected to send Groundhog Cards or attend a Prairie Dog Parade. I'll save my ire for Valentine's Day.
Happy February.