Boob Costas strikes again

We've been watching some Olympic coverage.
This time it's different, though.

On Thursday of last week, our cable television package changed. By adding telephone service to our package, it cut my monthly phone bill in half and added free long distance as well as calling features we did not have with our old company.

That alone was a good thing. Then, to get us to switch over, they offered a bunch of specialized channels we were not getting, gave us a DVR and several channels of free movies on demand.

So even though I don't watch television much, the rest of the family is thrilled.

Here's the best part. We let the DVR know what we'd like to have recorded, and it records it. Then, we can fast forward past all the fluff, crap, angst, and stupid comments from Boob and company. You know who I mean, right? The star of The Boob Costas Show and his minions.

You must remember him from all the other times he's been on, going blah blah blah. I can't stand him. If you clicked on that link, you already know that.

Well, Sunday night, he had our president, G.W. Bush on the set for an interview. They were going to talk about the Olympics and our amazing US Team.

Now leaving my feelings about the government totally out of this, (I mostly loathe it from the top down. I am a Libertarian and think that anyone who votes for a candidate based solely on his or her political party is deluded and part of the problem.)

I was appalled at Boob's questions and demeanor.

After years of being thought of as a sports commentator, he seemed intent on proving (a la Geraldo "I'm a serious journalist" Rivera) that he was also a serious journalist who could ask the hard hitting questions.

The 'gotcha' questions.

Questions that had nothing to do with the athletes who have worked their asses off most of their lives to get where they are. He asked human rights questions, political questions, and tried really hard to look professional.

It pissed me off. It pushed aside the accomplishments of the amazing people competing in the Olympics, solved nothing, and made Boob, once again, look like an asshole. He does not need to do more things that make him look that way.

So we continue to watch five hours of Olympic coverage in about 2 hours per evening. I understand that we're a day behind, but I don't care. I get to watch the events I care about, ignore the ones I don't, skip the commercials (am I the only person who's noticed that the Key Bank commercials strongly resemble Monty Python's Flying Circus?) and spend NONE of my own time watching or listening to Boob Costas.

Our new cable package is a friggin' bargain.