You can't make this up

After women were denied the right to compete in ski jumping at the Vancouver Olympics, it seems the Pan American Sports Organization (PASO) is still denying women the right to compete in canoeing, kayaking and numerous weight classes. It's unbelieveable, but not surprising. Afterall, PASO's committee is made up of 41 men and one woman. And apparently, just like the goons who run the Olympics, the coaches, sponsors and administrators simply help themselves to any female athlete they fancy. And why not, they are the ones who choose and sponsor the teams. It's still about money and sex, I'm afraid. Happily, a case against this mess is being filed at the Ontario and Canadian Human Rights Tribunals, but it's appalling that women have to go to these lengths to compete in their sports. Absolutely appalling.

I began my love affair with swimming and sports at good old Camp Davern, a local YWCA girls camp. I opened the paper this past saturday and there was a huge spread on Davern featuring letters the campers had written home. They were lovely letters, penned by 11 and 12-year-old girls. Put me in mind of the letters home I had written when I first went at the age of nine. I found them in my mother's things after she died and had a good laugh. The first letter was very nice and addressed them as "Mummy and Daddy". I was asking politely if I could come home because I was too homesick. I had signed it, "Love, Nancy". The next letter said, "Dear Mother and Father" and still asked nicely, but no "love" at the end. By the third I was demanding to be picked up. "Mother and Father", it started; I had dropped the "Dear" altogether and signed it "Your daughter". I do remember being very homesick, but it abated and I loved it.

After my expose and rant about Brian's ex, I started thinking about mine. He has been "lost" for about 10 years, but after a couple of calls to old friends, I found a valid phone number and left him a message. Gave the number to my son (and will to my daughter, when she returns from Europe) and my only hope is that they will contact him and he will be responsive. Or not. But my fear was that I would learn he had died without our children having talked to him in many, many years. His choice, but I know it would have been very tough to deal with. He drifted away years ago and lives as a semi-hermit and recluse. God's timing, as ever, is perfect because I don't think either of my kids would have been able to deal with him a minute earlier. So, I again turn it over to the Lord and let him work his magnificence.

The other news is that in the process of tracking down these other women, who knew him long before I met him and who still try and keep in touch, I have re-connected with them. One lives in Perth and when I called her, she screamed with joy; so did I. Visited her yesterday and I thought we would crush each other with hugs and weeping. Needless to say, I always adored her and now I have her again. We plan to keep this up and she is so anxious to re-connect with Gene and Susanne. As she said, just because Bob isn't in the picture doesn't mean people who need to be around the kids should be shut out. Absolutely. I am anxiously awaiting our next get-together.