Post No Berlin (or L.A.)

Friday's opening of the Olympic Games in London certainly gave the world an, er, English spin on the occasion. Those quirky Brits, offering the short course on the Industrial Revolution and a half-century of pop music; a paean to socialized medicine with dancing doctors and Busby Berkeley bed-rolling; and, in a cultural high point, Mr Bean.

BBC commentators fell all over themselves in praising the festivities, while NBC's crew seemed awestruck enough to forget their background notes. (Just who was that Tim Berners-Lee guy, anyway?) Ceremony supremo Danny Boyle, it seemed, got the whole thing right.

Except that he didn't. When It came time to note past Olympiads, a few went missing. And we're not talking the Intercalated Games, either.

Roll back to the very start of the presentation, with the short film entiled The Isles of Wonder. Go ahead and click on the link, sit through the commercial for a tiresome Universal movie, and then fast-forward to 2:22. Posters from previous games will pop up on the screen -- and the omissions begin.

The first miss comes with the second Olympiad in 1900. In fairness, the games in Paris played second-fiddle to a concurrent international exhibition, and didn't rate a number of fancy posters; The idea of an official poster for each Olympiad started a dozen years later in Stockholm.) However, there's a generally accepted image, seen at left.

Paris gets its due with a poster from the 1924 games, immortalized by the best film made with a reference to the Olympics, Chariots of Fire. (The second-best is, arguably, Children of Glory, written by Joe Esterhas and virtually unseen in the United States.) The next Olympiad to get Boyle's cold shoulder, however, is a bit hard to miss.

It's also easy to catch. As the posters go by, you see 1928 Amsterdam, 1932 Los Angeles, 1948 London ....

Whoa there. The memory train rolls right by 1936 and the Berlin Olympiad, possibly the most-famous games held. The event certainly carries the identification with Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, but it also gave the Olympics an identity it carries to this day, inaugurating traditions such as pageantry at the opening ceremonies and the torch relay.

There's also the performances of Jesse Owens and Ralph Metcalfe to debunk the whole master-race argument in front of the fascists. The poster isn't bearing a swastika, so what's the problem here?

So, the film continues, and the games move into the era of worldwide television, with 1968 Mexico City, 1972 Munich, 1976 Montreal, 1980 Moscow, 1988 Seoul ....

Hey, hey, hey. Now we're skipping the games that brought the Olympics back from the abyss: 1984 Los Angeles, taken on when nobody wanted the event. It survived the Soviet-bloc boycott and showed how the Olympics could be run efficiently and debt-free.

We even pulled in one of the great American artists, Robert Rauchenberg, to do the official poster. Maybe Boyle didn't like the horizontal orientation.

I know this won't blow up into a big controversy, although the latter two omissions seem like pointed snubs. It also doesn't fit the all-inclusive nature of the Olympics.

Then again, you can forgive Boyle for the misses and the excesses. Anyone who could persuade the Queen to trot off with James Bond for the Royal High Jump gets top marks for effort.

Posted with Blogsy

Nobody's So Smart Here

No doubt you'll be seeing something about a recent study showing people watching Fox News for their information are worse-informed than people with no exposure to any (well, at least electronic) news source. It's good for a quick snicker from some people and a bunch of steam from others. The deeper story is that nobody look particularly smart in this.

The study from Fairleigh Dickenson University asked eight current events questions -- four on domestic issues, four on international news -- to get a feel of how certain groups would likely answer them. And, yes, the people watching Fox News ranked the lowest in average number of correct answers, and those listening to National Public Radio came out on top.

Here's the problem: For either the international or domestic questions, no group hit a mark of 40% correct. Yeah, that's right; even the NPR group hit only three of eight. Overall, only 3% managed to get eight questions correct, and another 11% hit seven right.

Basically, no group  won out in pass/fail. There's not a lot of joy in declaring that you're the least stupid.

Wondering about those questions? Here they are, grouped by topic (they were in mixed order for the actual survey. Note that many of them are open-ended, and not multiple-choice ... meaning that you actually had to come up with your own answer and not guess.

INTERNATIONAL

1. To the best of your knowledge, have the opposition groups protesting in Egypt been successful in removing Hosni Mubarak?

2. How about the opposition groups in Syria? Have they been successful in removing Bashar al-Assad?

3. Some countries in Europe are deeply in debt, and have had to be bailed out by other countries. To the best of your knowledge, which country has had to spend the most money to bail out European countries?

4. There have been increasing talks about economic sanctions against Iran. What are these sanctions supposed to do?

DOMESTIC (depending on party affiliation, different #2 questions were asked). 

1. Which party has the most seats in the House of Representatives right now?

2a. In December, House Republicans agreed to a short-term extension of a payroll tax cut, but only if President Obama agreed to do what?

2b. It took a long time to get the final results of the Iowa caucuses for Republican candidates. In the end, who was declared the winner? 

3. How about the New Hampshire Primary? Which Republican won that race?

4. According to the figures, about what percentage of Americans are currently unemployed? 

If you want to see the study, go here. It's pretty stunning to see the question that 30% of those "leaning Republican" and 28% of those as independent (and 11% of Democrats) got absolutely wrong.

Dressed Up (and Someplace to Go)

ORLANDO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT -- If you want a smooth flight -- and the best chances of making your connection sand appointments all day -- take the earliest plane possible. Don't start thinking, that you'll miss all the crowds.

Because of its favored-city status among trade-show planners, Orlando remains one of my frequent destinations. I've made the march through its convention center halls at least 10 times in the last dozen years, and I'm sure I'm missing a few trips along the way.

I've become an expert at dealing with Orlando International Airport at 5 a.m. to catch early West Coast flights. It's a place where baggage check is best avoided, as the lines fill with cranky, tired children complaining about the end of their vacations to cranky, tired parents with wallets sucked dry by theme-park amenities. Or there's the foreign tourists attempting to bully clerks into accepting 100-lbs suitcases possibly containing several uncomplaining children.

There's no avoiding the long early-morning security line at Orlando, unless you use a retinal scanning service that's always sat without customers when I've been there. It's an average 15-minute process, which is a massive advancement from previous security iterations that took at least twice as long with lines stretching the length of the main terminal.

Snaking around the bollards and belts forming the line, you get to see the same people several times, which is no pre-breakfast great. Occasionally, though, there's a surprise, as you can be shocked by neatness.

I looked up in the line this morning to see a woman dressed to perfection in a blue worsted-wool suit. This was no fashionista, but instead a middle-aged lady at least 25 lbs over optimum body mass. The suit looked like she had it sewn before grabbing a cab to the airport; the outfit included a simple white blouse and a single-strand small-pearls choker. She looked fabulous and ready for business.

What' s sad, though, is how she stood out in the crowd. She showed simple, good taste with some smart clothes. For that, she wasn't unusual; she was an aberration.

I confess my membership in the Old School of Travel Fashion, where you put on something from the better side of the closet. There's a picture of me, circa 1972, in a snappy Robert Hall blue blazer and Peter Max clip-on tie as I waited to board a plane at Fresno International Airport. Yes, even when you stopped over in Fresno, you looked snappy.

You still find folks in their best, although it's usually some East Coast exec types in full grey-suit mode going from New York or Boston to Los Angeles on an early a.m. run, using the gained hours in-flight to bill a few more hours and get ready for an afternoon meeting. Occasionally, there'll be someone in first class in some fashionable attire, as part of the rare breeding always looking to keep up appearances.

Unfortunately, most of the crowd at airports resembles some kind of beach slumber party, with raggy T-shirts and fraying cutoffs for men, and a collection of frowsy sweatshirts and shorts for the women. For footwear, the main fashion seems to be flip-flops, or sneakers sans socks for the more-formal.

In a word: sloppy. Airport lounges are places where people look their worst in public, and usually add a lazy demeanor that treats flying as an onerous inconvenience. The journey from Points A to B can barely. E tolerated.

Granted, the corporate attitudes of some airlines doesn't help this, with a serial addiction to add-on fees and a skinflint approach that cuts out a 25-cent bag of pretzels on a three-hour flight. Air travel, despite being one of the continuing marvels of the modern world, is being cheapened daily in service to the level of buses.

That's why it's heartening to see, in the early morning hours at an airport, that someone still takes travel seriously. Maybe she didn't have a choice and went straight from the plane to business at that day's destination, but she still made the effort to look sharp for the journey.

I don't wear the dress shirt and tie anymore, but I always wear good chino or dress pants, along with comfy-but-sturdy shoes and a better-class golf shirt (with pocket for ticket and ticket stub, in case of deplaning). And, yes, a sport coat, for the notch up from casual Friday wear. In today's fashions, it's outright dressy.

And, for me, it's entirely appropriate. After all, I've someplace to go.

 

On Shaving

Maybe it's the beard -- something I've worn since the early Reagan administration -- but people seem genuinely surprised when I tell them that I shave every day. Not all my face, but easily half the territory of a clean-shaven man, every morning before showering.

That's what I thought just about all men did. Apparently not, as I'm finding out, and not because they want to go full caveman-style, either.

For years, I've been partial to a brand of two-bladed disposable razor that give a clean shave with minimum effort. I thought I'd take a look at some of the new systems, although the idea of five blades on a razor head hints of overkill. (I also remember a Saturday Night Live fake commercial from the 1970s getting a laugh for touting the concept.)

These aren't cheap, and charging $10 for the handle revealed that Gillette isn't making money just on the razor blades, either. A phrase on the packaging, thought, struck me odd; it detailed the blade life is different for each user, "especially if you choose to shave daily."

Choose to shave daily? As if this is the out-of-the ordinary behavior of defollicating neat freaks? Or that it's ... well, it's just not done anymore?

Shaving, to me, offered itself in my early teen years as an adult task, done before breakfast in a doubly vain attempt to appear handsome. As I progressed, I worked through a succession of Norelco electrics before hitting on Gillette's Trac II and, finally, its disposable prodigy.

Shaving is also an area where many sons take after their fathers; my dad, however, disdained an electric for a two-edge, single-blade safety razor, and later adopted the newfangled double-edge. I suppose I adopted the Trac II from his example, albeit years after I'd left home.

My father, however, approached shaving as more than a daily need. As a hardhat construction worker, he didn't go through the niceties of cleaning up before work; his bathing came after the shift. Every weekday evening, I remember him standing at the bathroom sink, his lathered face accessorized with a just-lit Camel cigarette in the middle.

He'd make long, clean strokes with the razor; then a pause, a rinse of the razor, a long draw of the Camel and a swig of the cold beer perched on the sink; then a repeat of all the actions until the lather, Camel and beer disappeared. He stood back and looked in the mirror, feeling not only clean of face but also refreshed.

My father is more than 20 years gone now, but I still share that same feeling each morning. The shaving foam, the blade heated by the hot-water rinse and the smooth wet skin signal a clean new day, with a final top-off after a shower with the tingle of a spicy after-shave gel. My face feels great and, yes, refreshed.

The dearth of after-shave products tells me that I'm in a dwindling minority, but I'm not going to stop and become one of these stubble-faced guys who think they're hot stuff with cheeks and chins covered with scratchy bristle. I'll continue the daily appointment, finishing every time with my moment of being clean, sleek and renewed.

And, I'll do it with the trusty supply of disposables. I don't need to pull a razor with a Venetian-blind collection of blades to get what I need in a shave.