August 21, 2016
How are you? Are you turning blue too?
I write to you with a full and happy heart that's doing its best to stave off sadness. The Games are over. I have never watched so much television. But I had to this August; this was Game-on for the world. Records were made and broken, as were hearts and dreams. Americans made me proud and ashamed, but mostly proud. Teams USA represented like no one else.
The Brazilian people "done good" by us. They should be proud. It's great when those with less act like the have the most when they 're hosts. Watching some of their guests enjoy all they were offered in the spirit proffered made my heart swell with delight in mankind. We're pretty amazing humans, huh?
So, I take pen in hand to cry on your shoulders because I don't want it to end just yet. Yet I'm glad it's over. My palms are sore from clapping; I strained my vocal cords hollering for those runners to fly; I tried to vault out of my chair like those pole vaulters; I even tried to jump with that little short stack from Port Arthur Texas. And I cried when I said goodbye to Usain Bolt. Will there ever be another better than The Bolt? Well, yeah. Someday. Humans are getting bigger, faster, taller, smarter . . . so yeah, records will forever be broken.
Black Gurls run! That's a new anthem for me. I love Allyson Felix and Tori Bowie. I have from the first time I ever watched them on a field. Tori has a special place in my heart behind Allyson. I don't "know" the other women on that relay team but they ran in sisterhood and in Americanship. They ran like the wind. I screamed, "Run girls, run! Run like slave catchers are after you! Run! Can't you hear those chains rattling behind you?" And I believe in my heart they heard me. African American women were the first to win the relay those Jamaicans always dominated, like Americans can't run or something. And they tried to cheat, those Jamaicans did, when they bumped Allyson. Well, a well deserved do-over showed 'em.
I missed watching the American wrestler trump her opponent, but the look on her face in all the clips made me cry. That girl was so happy! Women pole vaulters (That Italian vaulter!!!), gymnasts, fencers, basketballers, boxers . , . I hate boxing, and wish women had better sense than to risk their brains on such a dumb sport; brains are made for better things. But to each her own. Great joy was mine when the Chinese (?) athlete talked about having her period and how her cramps hurt. Periods hurt at the Olympics just like they do at home. See? There's nothing to be ashamed of when you menstruate. Thank God they don't shut us away in huts anymore. Oh. Wait. They still do in some countries.
Cyclists . . . I tried to watch the BMX bikers but come on. Swimmers, rowers, tennis players . . . you name it there were women in it. And they won some. Women won more medals than men. I don't have enough envelopes and markers for all the images racing through my head. There will be stragglers so please be patient if I draw another Olympics moment envelope in September or October. I couldn't keep up. I started late. (grin)
See what I mean? How could I not do a tribute to Carmen Miranda? That watermelon has to make her neck hurt like mine hurts right now, from bending over my lap desk too long. Sketches are strewn across the bed; on backs of envelopes, receipts, a prescription bag, my desk . . . I had the time of my life last night! It shows. Anna, thanks forever for the hot water bottle. I tried to strap it across my shoulder with an Ace bandage but it didn't work. (grin) I slept poorly last night. I don't deserve sympathy. (sigh) I need rehab. I cheered while I was awake and I must have cheered in my sleep because my neck pillow was on the floor this morning. I hope I didn't try to vault over the headboard.
It's 10:17 pm and I'm already going through withdrawal. Oh my goodness gracious. What'll I do? I know. Take a muscle relaxer and call it a night. I'll finish a couple of envelopes first. (wink)
P.S. Happy mail to you.