I cannot pinpoint exactly when it started. The celebration of diversity. The pouring rain. Athletes, spanning generations, jogging together through the darkness, passing the torch. Celine Dion, in the midst of her heath crisis singing her heart out from the Eiffel Tower. It doesn’t really matter, and I can’t pick a moment. Let the games begin. And let the weeping commence. Is it just me?
One among a multitude of reasons this newsletter is coming out late is due to the number of hours I am spending in front of the television instead of in front of the computer. I don’t think I’ve missed a single minute of the women’s artistic gymnastics, and that’s certainly not all I’ve watched.… Read the rest