Funding Priorities

Word has apparently seeped out that my finances are in remarkable condition. This is true -- it was not rocket science to see that keeping large dollops of cash on hand as the banks went to rat shit would be a Good Thing. Really and truly. I mean, I always thought it was the bank's job to lend us money, not the reverse. And this financial hell will, I think, last for some time. Indeed, reading The Economist these days like reading The Tibetan Book of the Dead.


So I was not entirely surprised when Mark, my firstborn son, called asking for some help. Not for himself, mind you (Mark and the rest of my children have been well schooled in the principles of Emersonian self-reliance) but for his Olympic ski team. Mark is not the best of the group, and only finished 23rd at Kitzbuhl, but even getting down that particular precipice in one piece is a bit of a feat. At least he's not attempting the north face of the Eiger.


Anyway, I was glad to help out, and fired off $100, 000. Trouble was, word of this leaked out, and the next thing you know Jaques Rogge was on the phone, stating that a significant donation would greatly assist upcoming Olympic Games in Vancouver and London. I said I was not averse to helping out, but would insist that any Strunskian donations be directed towards specific sports.


You see, I have taken to heart the Olympic motto: Citius. Altius. Fortius. (For those not versed in the Imperial Tongue, this means fastest, highest and strongest). Hence, supporting the likes of skiing, hockey, swimming, racing and the like is fine. Way more dubious is putting money towards such "sports" as synchronized swimming, a goodly portion of gymnastics and that paragon of objectivity, figure skating. Thus fastest, highest and strongest work. No Olympic personage has stepped forward to state that "prettiest" is also in the mix. Allowing this type of sport -- if that term actually applies -- demeans the original triumvirate and opens the door to all manner of unfairness and corruption.


Mr. Rogge argued strongly that judges were there to promote fairness, and I concurred, but it is one thing to start a race on even terms, or to ensure timing devices are used properly; it is quite another to state that this athlete's aesthetics were better than that athlete's.


I'll say this for old Jaques, he stood his ground, rabbiting on about the moral stance of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and the outstanding probity of its members. This was patently untrue. Too many of grasping freeloaders in my opinion, and I remained adamant that any funds I might forward be directed to actual sports where the motto actually meant something.


Nope, he wanted a blanket donation, and I indicated that while I might be willing to direct funds on a private basis to certain sports, there would be no joy for the IOC itself until that body concentrated solely on athletic sports and stopped fooling around with aesthetic sports. At this point the conversation ended, the dispute unresolved. And I was left with the thought of poor old Pheidippides in 490 BC, running from the Battle of Marathon to Athens with the news that the Greeks had beaten the Persians, and dying on the spot.

At which point several Olympic judges step forward and state, "Oh no. He didn't fall correctly. Next runner!"

Enough, or too much.