So, Dr. D., calls me last night to ask how my skin is feeling from my bogging adventures. Slathered in topicals and drugged up on antihistamines, at least I am no longer am feeling like I want to scrape off my entire dermal layer.
So, he asks me what the deal was with the Hungarians and their outfits at the opening ceremonies?
Huh? I did not watch the opening ceremonies considering I was busy with other things. Besides, I told him that I was having my own quiet little boycott of the Olympics and not watching them.
So, I decided to look up what the fuss was about the Hungarians and their outfits.
Oh, dear. A fashion faux pas if I ever saw one. What were they thinking? Did coming to a communist country hit a raw nerve for them and impair their thinking on the matter? Or was this a quiet protest of sorts? An attempt on getting a psychological edge?
As a country of people who has always managed to uphold a sense of elegant style even during the most oppressive times, I am dumbfounded.
In the meantime, as a fellow Hungarian American, I think I will go bury my head in the sand for a while...