Headless Maries and such

 Watched the Olympic opening ceremonies last night because I always watch the Olympic opening ceremonies, and I especially wanted to watch these opening ceremonies because it was Paris and Paris is, you know, Paris.

In other words: I enjoyed all the headless Marie Antoinettes holding their singing heads while the French metal band Gojira banged away.

That was fun, and weird, and gloriously French. And so was Lady Gaga (and that peerless voice) cabaret-ing along the Seine, and the boats with the national teams all making their way downriver as the rain fell and night came down, and of course Celine Dion at the end bringing down the house from the Eiffel Tower.

Not sure I can take two weeks of Snoop Dogg, but, hey, he's a joy. And suitably Parisian, somehow, like the Assassin's Creed guy running across the rooftops of Paris and through the Louvre with the Olympic torch.

The production numbers along the Seine were spectacular, as was the classical mezzo-soprano Axelle Saint-Cirel belting out "La Marseillaise" from atop the Grand Palais. Even the nod to Paris fashion shows on a rain-soaked runway had its moments.

Only thing I didn't get was why Peyton Manning was there.

Now, I love Peyton, just like all y'all. But pairing him with Mike Tirico and the overly caffeinated Kelly Clarkson was just ... odd. It reminded me of the time, way back in the day, when NBC had Fess Parker as a member of the announcing team for the Tournament of Roses parade because Fess was the star of one of NBC's primetime hits, "Daniel Boone."

You hadn't lived until you'd seen Fess introduce the Governor's Trophy float. Talk about a fish out of water -- or a frontiersman out of his frontier.

Peyton, same kinda deal. He wasn't quite as out of his element as ol' Fess, because Peyton never met an element he couldn't audible. But it might have worked better (and been more fun) if he'd had brother Eli on the set with him.

I mean, just imagine what Peyton could have done with the headless Maries bit, for instance.

"Hey, Eli, that looks like you the first time Ray Lewis hit you," Peyton might have said.

Mon dieu! That would have been magnifique.