Ah, It is that Time Again.

Well, we are at the culmination of the every-four year hand-wringing festival, when various sorts try to out compassion each other with their reasons as to why the Olympics' host country is not worthy of the honor.

Frankly, once the games were hosted by Hitler, Brezhnev and the Mormons, how can anyone worry about sullying them at all? Anyway, the politics of the Olympics is a pretty dull topic, the stuff that Carters are made of. Why not hold the Olympics in China? Ah, yes, China has an evil government. True (although I find it hard to fault them in their handling of Tibet and the Falung Gong/Falun Dafa cult). China is a demented post-Communist dictatorship hell-bent of destroying itself? Well, yes. And you will have to bear with me in my utter lack of charity here, but...so what?

Should the Olympics only be held in pure countries? Unfotunately those tend to be few and far between.

So let's give three cheers for Old Peping, and I have been staying up too late watching swimming and gymnastics (I am not so interested in track), rooting for the Californians, Italians and Germans (I really wish that they listed the athlete's home districts and religions, though, to make sure that I am not cheering on a Mormon or West Virginian).

I don't know whether Natalie Coughlin is a Mormon or not, I frankly doubt it, but she was born in Vallejo, grew up in Benicia, trained in the pool that Amalia has her swim lessons in, went to Cal, takes cooking seriously (which is why I dount that she is a Mormon) and shops at our favorite farmers' market. So, unless someone brings allegations of Smithism or Youngism, she is our family's choice for victory (also, Italians have never been dominant in swimming, so I can dismiss them).

As for the Aussies, well, I like Australians, much more than I like the Englisch, but I am Anti-Australian on principle. And I have no choice but to root for the Rhodesian girl, given the mess that her people have to face under that lunatic Mugabe.

And that leaves us with the French. Now I am always torn by things French, because I love France and the French, although I am a devout Francophobe. Possibly because they are so easy to overrun and to occupy, it is just so hard not to love the poor little inept buggers. Of course one of the things that I find charming about the French is their snarling, and I am congenitally disposed to favor the cocky. I find underdog victories tedious. I like the beautiful favored horse owned by the aristocrats to win over the scrappy little misfit owned by an Irish tavern keeper. So, I have to say there was a part of me that thought it would be amusing if the French did as well in swimming as they thought they would. It would be unusual, as they are not normally a great swimming nation. Swimming is a sport for Teutons, and the French are quite mongrelized with Celtic blood. But if their snarl got them to the top, more power to them.

Of course it would have been even funnier if the Germans had routed them, which is always a funny thing.

But lunch is over,and it is time to get on to more serious matters, like Amalia's learning plan for the semester.

Go Natalie!
Go Germany!
Go Italy!
Go France! Bah!