WHAT ABOUT BOB?

Author: Bob Wainwright

Before I begin today, I must admit that I am writing this column with a bit of a stomach virus that appears to have surfaced, so to speak, after the large platter of fish I had last night. Consequently, my mind is even more spacey than usual, so you'll have to forgive me if my thoughts are a little random.

Of course, I should have known better than to eat the fish in the first place. Whenever I go out, I almost always order steak, which is probably why I was so excited when I noticed a special new kind of steak, called halibut steak, on the menu. I've been to this particular restaurant (I won't name it, lest I'm wrong in my conclusion that they are responsible for the pain I have endured) many times, but never before had I noticed the halibut steak, which I assumed is spicier than their specialty and my favorite, the Fire & Ice steak. Now, you're probably thinking that halibut steaks aren't necessarily spicy. Personally, I don't know. But that's not the point. The point is that the waiter must have misheard me, because I did not receive my halibut steak at all, but was given instead a plate of fish, which I grudgingly accepted.

Since my mom always taught me good manners, I have no problem eating fish if that's what's for dinner, but I'm not a big fan. As far as I know, most of my family adores fish, except for my Aunt Edith. Not that she's a fish, mind you. What I meant to say is that she hates fish. I know this because I remember her always screaming at me when I went to her house as a child, "Bobby, don't be shellfish." Other than that, Aunt Edith's drastic lisp prevented me from understanding much of what she said.

That's enough of fish. Now it's time for me to take a break in order to think of a good segue into my next topic, the Winter Olympics.

All right, I'm back. How's this? Speaking of fish, I bet many of you are currently hooked on the Winter Olympics that began last week in Salt Lake City, Hatu. I spelled that backwards, didn't I? Excuse me for that. It happens sometimes when your name is a palindrome.

Personally, I've been a big fan of the Olympics ever since the 1992 games, when I spent the entire two weeks playing the "Chariots of Fire" theme on my stereo and using my microphone to create voice-overs in which I was the star athlete who had overcome hardships to achieve Olympic glory. One of these tapes still exists today, and in fact, I listened to it in my car just the other day after my Britney Spears mix was done.

It went something like this: "Despite the chicken pox that had nearly crippled him a week earlier, and the air conditioner that had fallen out of a window 12 stories right on top of his dog many years before, and the time that his pet turtle had managed to crawl underneath the radiator to a fiery death, Bob Wainwright simply refused to give up. And he did this because at 12 years old he had made a promise to his family — a promise that he would one day bring home the gold in the Olympic bobsled competition.

"He knew it was no mistake that both he and the sport shared the same first name. And so it is no surprise to anyone who really knows him that a worn and battered Wainwright overcame a half-second deficit today to bring home the gold for his country, his family, and most of all, his deceased pets."

Ten years after making those tapes, I cannot help but feel a little melancholy that I never made it to the Olympics as an American bobsledder. Perhaps it's silly to have such dreams. Who knows? You be the judge. Unless, of course, you're French, in which case you have no right to judge anything. (Just so you know, I've been trying to work that one in this entire column.)

Anyhow, even without Olympic medals, I suppose I still have some talent … like …. Wait, I know! I have more palindromes up my sleeve than the International Skating Union has cover-ups. In fact, I even have some palindromic advice for them: "Are we not drawn onward we few? Drawn onward to new era?"

Editors note: The ending to Bob's column this week received perfect scores from the entire editorial board, except from our online editor, Raam Wong, who gave it a 5.7. The matter is currently under review.