Friday, August 22, 2008
The End Is Near
It is hard to believe that our Olympic experience is coming to a close. We’re scheduled to depart Saturday, sometime after the gold medal game in Women’s basketball. I am lobbying to stay until Sunday so that we can watch the men’s finals, but we are here courtesy of the women’s team, so I expect that we will respect their schedule.
Earlier in the week I was watching the 100-meter dash finals on one of the big screens that are strategically placed around the city for those who aren’t connected enough to have tickets, which in a city of 26 million, is almost everyone. For those of you who don’t follow sports, the race was won by a gentleman from Jamaica named Usain Bolt. I call him lightning bolt. He is barely 22-years-old, and yet he literally runs faster than anyone who has ever lived, save perhaps one who is not being changed by a hungry animal or someone to whom you owe money. I had mentioned before that Maribel had made acquaintance with a lesser Jamaican sprinter. I asked her if perhaps she could get her friend to allow me to meet Mr. Bolt, but his training schedule is interfering. I may possibly still get the introduction should Mr. Bolt prove to be a basketball fan. The fellow is more of a cricket fan, but fortunately cricket is not an Olympic sport.
Speaking of my eldest daughter, she is truly making the most of her time in China. I do not believe that she has slept since we stepped off of the plane. Morning and afternoon, we attend the various sporting competitions. In the evening, we take in the sights of Beijing and enjoy a nice meal. Afterwards, I return to our room to twiddle with my computer and become reacquainted with my pillow. Maribel, in contrast, investigates the Chinese nightlife. And, in a city this size, there is plenty of nightlife. She seems to have made hundreds of new friends, if the number of text messages she receives is any indication. She usually returns to the room just before sunrise. I usually hear her in the shower when I awake, and I’m frequently an early riser. Her bed appears to be slept in, but I’m quite sure that she just pulls the covers back and rolls around on a it a bit so that I think that she’s slumbered.
This afternoon, we were taking in the men’s basketball semifinal games. We were sitting with the women’s roundball team, and I noticed that Maribel did not seem to be comfortable in her seat. I asked her if there was a problem with her chair. She said that her chair was fine, and that the reason for her discomfort was because her butt hurt.
I did not ask her why her butt hurt. I did not want to know.
The Chinese have been more than gracious Olympic hosts. Almost all of those who live here that we have met speak excellent English. This, to me, is quite extraordinary because there aren’t very many Americans who speak Chinese. Then again, Americans seem to think that their language is uniquely theirs, and the only one that one ever needs to speak. This despite the fact that our language, English, originated in, well, England.
It is time to pack our bags, gather our souvenirs, and say goodbye to the new friends that we have met. We’ll attend our last events, and head back to our humble life in the U.S. China and the Olympics will become a lasting memory. I’ll return to Angela and Colette, the big barn that is our home, and my daily employment that pays the bills. Life will return to the routine. There is, however, one thing that I shall look forward to when life returns to normal. Because I really need a spanking.
Nonetheless, it has been a fantastic trip.
Earlier in the week I was watching the 100-meter dash finals on one of the big screens that are strategically placed around the city for those who aren’t connected enough to have tickets, which in a city of 26 million, is almost everyone. For those of you who don’t follow sports, the race was won by a gentleman from Jamaica named Usain Bolt. I call him lightning bolt. He is barely 22-years-old, and yet he literally runs faster than anyone who has ever lived, save perhaps one who is not being changed by a hungry animal or someone to whom you owe money. I had mentioned before that Maribel had made acquaintance with a lesser Jamaican sprinter. I asked her if perhaps she could get her friend to allow me to meet Mr. Bolt, but his training schedule is interfering. I may possibly still get the introduction should Mr. Bolt prove to be a basketball fan. The fellow is more of a cricket fan, but fortunately cricket is not an Olympic sport.
Speaking of my eldest daughter, she is truly making the most of her time in China. I do not believe that she has slept since we stepped off of the plane. Morning and afternoon, we attend the various sporting competitions. In the evening, we take in the sights of Beijing and enjoy a nice meal. Afterwards, I return to our room to twiddle with my computer and become reacquainted with my pillow. Maribel, in contrast, investigates the Chinese nightlife. And, in a city this size, there is plenty of nightlife. She seems to have made hundreds of new friends, if the number of text messages she receives is any indication. She usually returns to the room just before sunrise. I usually hear her in the shower when I awake, and I’m frequently an early riser. Her bed appears to be slept in, but I’m quite sure that she just pulls the covers back and rolls around on a it a bit so that I think that she’s slumbered.
This afternoon, we were taking in the men’s basketball semifinal games. We were sitting with the women’s roundball team, and I noticed that Maribel did not seem to be comfortable in her seat. I asked her if there was a problem with her chair. She said that her chair was fine, and that the reason for her discomfort was because her butt hurt.
I did not ask her why her butt hurt. I did not want to know.
The Chinese have been more than gracious Olympic hosts. Almost all of those who live here that we have met speak excellent English. This, to me, is quite extraordinary because there aren’t very many Americans who speak Chinese. Then again, Americans seem to think that their language is uniquely theirs, and the only one that one ever needs to speak. This despite the fact that our language, English, originated in, well, England.
It is time to pack our bags, gather our souvenirs, and say goodbye to the new friends that we have met. We’ll attend our last events, and head back to our humble life in the U.S. China and the Olympics will become a lasting memory. I’ll return to Angela and Colette, the big barn that is our home, and my daily employment that pays the bills. Life will return to the routine. There is, however, one thing that I shall look forward to when life returns to normal. Because I really need a spanking.
Nonetheless, it has been a fantastic trip.
