Like most hip and happening people my age, I like to cut loose after a long week by eating kettle corn in bed while watching TLC. On Friday night. In my jammies. What? That’s not what you do? You do so. Admit it.
[For a while, Miami Ink followed WNTW and that was a far superior arrangement. What is there not to like about tattoos? Done by and for weird and fascinating people? Nothing! That show totally appeals to my inner rebel! You know, the same rebel who eats popcorn in bed all willy nilly!]
Ice Diaries follows 4 Olympic figure skating hopefuls, and after watching a few episodes, I really feel enlightened. And horrified. But mostly confused.
So here are three important things I’ve decided, after partaking of Ice Diaries:
I shall only raise boys.
What’s that? Oh. Crap. Well, I may need an alternate strategy. Details.
No child of mine shall be allowed to participate in any activity that requires practice 5+ days/week from the age of 5.
I could tell you about how I think it’s not good for the kid, but mostly I’m just very attached to my free time and by the way, have you noticed the price of gas lately? No thanks.
Before enrolling any child in an activity, I shall evaluate the cost of participation and decline involvement if the associated fees exceed my income.
$1300 for skates? Custom costumes? Training fees? Do their parents sell drugs on the side? My kids are lucky that I feed them every day.
I confess: I just don’t get it. I don’t. I love to watch skating. It’s an incredible discipline. But it’s SO expensive and SO time-consuming and it doesn’t really seem like something you can take up as a hobby. I mean, you wanna play soccer? Great, play for your school team, play in intramurals, play for fun, play in an adult league. You can do it your whole life. If you take up figure skating, it’s with the purpose of competing and winning and doing so QUICKLY before you do anything foolish like GROW BREASTS or BECOME AN ADULT WITH BRITTLE BONES. (I suppose the same is true of gymnastics, though at least in gymnastics you don’t need expensive boots.)
Three of the four girls being featured are adorable. They seem dedicated to the sport, close to their families, and–although aware of how their training makes them different–fairly normal teenagers. I’m impressed by their dedication and their families’ support.
The fourth girl is recovering from a back injury, and I alternately feel sorry for her and want to smack her upside the head. She’s mouthy and nasty and whiny and I get that her back hurts, but she’s obnoxious. If she can’t do it, she should say “Hey, I can’t do this,” and find another way to spend her time. But continuing to invest time and money so that she can spend a lot of time mouthing off to her coaches about how they just don’t understaaaaaand confuses me. She’s the only one of the four where you hardly ever see her parents, and I suspect they’re hiding somewhere, destitute and completely embarrassed.
I’m telling you, it’s a huge relief when Ice Diaries is over and I can flip over to Iron Chef on the Food Network.