Enough, Canada!

Kitschy, over-the-top and fun.  That pretty much sums up the Closing Ceremonies of the Olympics.  Giant inflatable mounties.  Giant inflatable beavers.  Giant maple leafs. Giant hockey pucks.  And William Shatner summing up what it means to be a Canadian: “We are a people who know how to make love in a canoe.” Your basic insane Hodge Podge for 20.  I'm so glad the Olympics are over, I could do a ceremonial tribal dance in cross country skiis.  I could sing, "I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay."  Let's move on, shall we, to something far more important, where the only trophy handed out is a golden dude named Oscar.


What I'm saying is:  Let's get our priorities straight, people. Enough with the skating, the downhill racing through FOG, the chunky bobsledders, the boo-hooing over who crashed into whom and who did the greatest triple what's-it.  There are more meaningful things to cry over, like, why didn't I win something?  I look good in gold, silver and bronze.  What about me?  Where do I fit into all this pomp?  Nowhere.  So, enough with the Olympics.  Get over it, already.  But the curlers can stay.  In fact, they're all invited over to my house for beer and pretzels.  My friend Eric is sitting shiva over the end of curling.  So keep on curling, if you can.  But the rest of you, go home. There's no nice way to put this, no sugarcoating required.  It's time for blood, Hollywood-style.  It's time for glitz.  It's time for the skinny actresses to walk the red carpet and wave. It's time for Steve Martin.  It's time for Alec Baldwin.  It's time to go to my cousin Andy's.  It's time for  the Academy Awards.