Potpourri

Nice perch

When I went to the post office this morning to check the mailbox, I kept hearing the plaintiff squawk of this gull. When I finally located him and saw the sky behind, I whipped out my phone and captured this picture. I wonder if he was calling for his mate. Two squawks and then apparently listening, over and over.

Last week when I went walking with the ladies, there were 23 of us. Today, only ten showed up, and we walked hills and trails for more than five miles and then went our separate ways. I sure do enjoy this time at the beginning of the weekend as a way to set the day's exercise on the right track.

I heard a distressing statistic yesterday while watching PBS, which had a short segment on the first-ever Refugee Olympic Team, which now has its own flag and anthem. When they walked out during the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, they displayed little flags with the Olympic symbol of five interlocked rings. A non-profit group called the Refugee Nation commissioned artists to develop a flag and write a national anthem. From that link:

The flag is a banner of bright orange crossed by a single black band—colors that evoke the life jackets so many refugees have worn on their journeys to safety. “If you’ve worn a lifejacket as a refugee, you will feel something when you see this flag,” says Amsterdam-based Syrian refugee Yara Said, who designed the flag.

Refugee Olympic team's flag

 For more information about who is on the team and how it was founded, read the Wikipedia page about them. What I also learned from that piece on PBS, is that there are now an unprecedented 65.3 million people around the world who have been forced from their homes. Among them are nearly 21.3 million refugees, over half of whom are under the age of 18. There are also 10 million stateless people who have been denied a nationality and access to basic rights such as education, healthcare, employment and freedom of movement. These statistics are from the UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency.

I was simply stunned when I heard these statistics and thought I had heard wrong, but no, this is really happening. One out of every 113 people who are alive in the world today is affected, and more than half of them are from Syria. The UNHCR receives most of its funding from voluntary contributions, as well as the European Union.

The Refugee Olympic Team may not be winning any medals, but they carry the heart and soul of many countries as they compete. I am humbled by their courage.
:-}

I want to be like her when I grow up

From Masterstrack, Olga setting a new world record

I just learned about Olga Kotelko yesterday, when one of my Facebook friends shared a link that Olga died on Tuesday at the age of 95. Her personal story is rather amazing, but when I found that she lived in West Vancouver, Canada, a few miles away from me, I felt humbled to think that I might have actually rubbed elbows with her, if I'd only been aware of her existence. Maybe I did and didn't know it.

Olga was a teacher until she retired at 65. She took up slow-pitch baseball at the age of 70, playing five different positions. Somewhere I read that she was quite competitive and enjoyed it very much. But then when she turned 77, someone suggested that she compete in track and field. She didn't realize, she said, that people her age even did that sort of thing. But boy, did she take to it like a duck to water! She has her own web page, and was just getting ready to start on a book tour to promote her new book, Olga: The O.K. Way to a Healthy Happy Life, and she was looking forward to competing in a new age category, since she turned 95 in March. Actually, she went to Budapest and just recently won a bazillion medals in her new W95 age group.

According to that blog post (linked under her picture, from Masterstrack), her Canadian author friend Bruce Grierson called Ken Stone, who writes the blog, with the news that Olga had died this past Tuesday of an intracranial hemorrhage. She was in a coma for a few days before she finally passed away. From the article, a quote from Bruce:

"Doctors say she would have lost consciousness immediately — zero suffering. It was — albeit premature and shocking — the perfect way to go out. She left nothing significant undone or undreamed. Gerontologists talk about ‘squaring the curve’ — i.e., living life ablaze with little or no decline toward the end, and then an abrupt demise. Olga squared the curve with a ruler. It was a real gift to get to know her. She changed my life, for sure.” Bruce published “What Makes Olga Run?” this year and went on tour with her. 

Anyway, she was definitely an exceptional person, and she was obviously born with the perfect combination of genes and personality to become the outstanding athlete that she was. Right now I'm happy to introduce my blogging friends to a real light in the world. The two books just published will ensure that Olga will not be forgotten for a long time. I found this lovely two-and-a-half minute YouTube video on her website.



Enjoy! Blue skies, Olga.
:-)

Skills camp begins today

Gary, me, John

Well, I got my knees in the breeze with these two gentlemen yesterday, one I knew from last year (John), and a new friend, Gary from Italy. We went up in Skydive Elsinore's Twin Otter and played in the sky together, although I realized that it would have been much easier for me on this jump if I had had some weights to allow me to fall faster. But it was still a good jump and we had fun.

I found a packer and got ready to make another skydive, but it was almost noon so I skipped the second jump being organized with the SOS (Skydivers Over Sixty) crowd so that John and I could get some lunch (he was hungry too, while Gary was just hungry for another jump). When we returned, the jumpers were just packing up after having made an 11-way that they enjoyed very much, so I agreed to make another skydive with the group.

However, it had grown so large (16 of us, all men, and some very much larger than me) that I decided not to go. They went and had a so-so skydive, with some problems that continue to happen when skydives get bigger and people don't know each other very well. I was glad to sit it out, because today the Skills Camp begins, and I will make four skydives with organizers who will be working with our skill levels in small groups, appropriate to each person's needs.

After the day's skydiving, we returned to the hotel and John, who bought an incredible amount of beer and wine yesterday, had put some of the beer on ice. We gathered in the breakfast room to enjoy it, about ten of us, all guys except for me, from all over the world. As music was mentioned, one fellow, Joe, left the room and returned in a few minutes with... music!

Joe playing the bagpipes

If you can call it that; I have a hard time hearing the nuances of bagpipes. He played us two songs before putting his precious instrument on a nearby table and rejoining us with cheese and crackers. He also brought in two large sandwiches which he cut into pieces and shared. After awhile, some were interested in having a real dinner, so we made our goodbyes and went our separate ways for the evening.

These are great people, and I am glad to be here, looking forward to learning a lot with my friends. I've already told several old skydiving friends that this will be my last visit to Skydive Elsinore, as this, my twenty-fourth year of skydiving, will be my final season of playing in the sky. Most understood and some even felt honored that I chose to spend this time with them, here.

I'm a little superstitious about saying "last" and "final" in relation to skydiving, just as I'm beginning two days of making four jumps a day, and then there's the women's record attempt on Monday, which will probably be another four. I get tired just thinking about it, but really, I have every expectation that it will be an incredibly wonderful experience with some of the best people in the world, and everybody will be safe.

Although I will return home on Wednesday, most of the group will be staying for the rest of the week to attempt to make the largest formation of SOS skydivers ever. The record right now stands at 60, set in 2012, since last year they failed to make a new record. The organizers will have video of many of the skydives, so that they can pick and choose those who are most likely to be able to perform well. The rest will be "on the bench" and will make skydives together as well. I know from experience that these record attempts are stressful times for everybody, and I'm glad I'll be going home and skipping all the stress. It will be hard enough to make the women's record attempt, but there will only be 11 of us, not 80.

So that's it from my part of the world, sitting here in the dark with my laptop. I'll need to be at the Drop Zone by 8:00am, and there's breakfast here at the hotel. Time for a shower to begin my day. I'll be making another post on my other blog tomorrow morning. It's going to be a great day in southern California! Hope you will all have a wonderful day, too. Signing off from the world of palm trees and blue skies.
:-)

Competition

I watched the Olympics on TV yesterday, since I can get the Canadian station that shows it happening live. In this picture, Jennifer Heil (on the left) settled for a silver medal in the mogul freestyle competition because Hannah Kearney beat her out for the gold medal by less than one point. It turns out that Canada is the only country never to have won a gold medal on its own turf. Heil was on track to win that first gold medal until the last competitor of the day, Kearney, got a teeny bit higher score.

It was hard to watch Jennifer try to smile, try to be happy with the silver medal, because she was so close. I'm sure there are lots of people who love competition, but sometimes I wonder. So much striving to be the world's best: is it a good thing or not! "The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat."

Does somebody decide to try to be the best in the world or does competition drive it? I couldn't help but think, as I watched the ski jumpers getting points for the longest run PLUS style points, of the judges sitting down below looking at all the nuances of the jump, nitpicking every little thing and mysteriously giving or taking points.

I'm sure that Canada will get a gold medal in these Olympics, and that I will love watching the sports, but I can't help but wonder if competition is good for the soul...
:-]