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Extreme age event

Seona Smiles
Wednesday, August 22, 2012

There are the just-finished Olympics and about-to-start Paralympics, but being neither fit nor talented enough for either our household has come up with the Pseudolympics.

Being hopelessly unathletic doesn't mean being uncompetitive, it's a matter of picking the right event in which to compete.

Even though I don't run, I wouldn't take up speed walking, that odd and ungraceful event that makes competitors look like catwalk fashion models making a dash for the restrooms.

For a while there I thought I would like to do synchronised swimming.

Scoff if you will at girlie twirling in the water, but the reason I decided not to attempt it was because I discovered they need more strength, stamina and lung power than sprinters, marathoners and water polo players.

I mean, did you see them hurl a muscular girl in a ballet pose into the air from under the water without their feet touching bottom.

No, what the Pseudolympics is about is more sedentary events such as the television viewing marathon.

Several people in our household are naturals for that one, being able to watch a combination of the movie channel and BBC for hours, possibly days, on end with only occasional cups of tea provided by the support team to sustain them.

Others who can talk the legs of a mongoose could have gone in for gossiping for Fiji, except it is now illegal and we have had to ban the event.

We also considered a bad singers competition, but it would probably be too hard on the judges.

Gazing into space has been removed from the events list on the grounds that the insurance premiums have risen and it is too similar to the 'who blinks first' contest.

The best field of entry seemed the extreme events.

For instance, we would have a sure winner in the Extreme Age event in my old mother, the Dreaded Violet.

She is now 95 and a half and doesn't do a lot except get older, which I have to say she does with great skill and confidence, possibly due to her long experience at it.

She would definitely be out of the Extreme Eating event as she eats less than a small mynah bird, but I could probably have a crack at that myself.

My appetite has increased dramatically because the Head of Household appears to be in training for Extreme Socialising.

He goes in for the triathalon of socialising combined with hospitality and marketing.

This is a resource heavy event that involves a mass of splendid, fresh market produce being brought home for cooking and eating, apparently by a cast of thousands.

It sometimes results in extremely aged and unidentifiable substances in the back of the refrigerator for which I am somehow responsible for not consuming.

I refuse to be the subject of a 'find the new wonder drug' biology research project or an 'eat an alien' experiment.

There is a point at which no tomato should be put in anybody's mouth, no matter how pretty it looked originally on the market stall. However it may still be viable for throwing at a head-shaped object.

Extreme Idleness is a possibility for some of the home team, although the current feeling is that this is a highly competitive field in Fiji with too many highly trained professionals.

Nobody is allowed to go in for Extreme Telephoning, it is far too ridiculously expensive and wannabe competitors keep losing their costly equipment.

The event for which we could field a winning team would be Extreme Arguing.

No comment, suggestion or conversation gets by without a great deal of to-ing and fro-ing, debate, discussion and general argy-bargy.

No daily newspaper article, especially letters to the longsuffering editor, gets through without comment and quibble.

No decision or decree is accepted without deliberation and dispute.

No topic is done unless critiqued, analysed, sourced and shredded.

"It's a nice day" isn't a passing remark in our house, it is an invitation to a symposium.

I'd just like the Constitution Commission to know that we aren't frightened, we would have got our submission in already except that it is, sigh, still under review.

nSeona Smiles is a frequent writer to The Fiji Times. The views are hers and not of this newspaper.