So, whose idea was it to have an Olympics in the middle of the winter? I mean, really, what a waste of time. I don't need my tax dollars paying snowboarders to go smoke dope in Europe! Criminey!

Oh! I guess I should introduce myself. Donald S. Thompson's the name. I've been hired by Maisonneuve Magazine to report on these here Olympics. Problem is, I'm stuck up about 50 miles off the James Bay road, on the way to Chisasibi. Luckily, I've got my snowmobile, which does about 120, so I can get into town now and then, ok. So I'm gonna put up messages on the Maisonneuve internet page about the Olympics. They said they'd pay for me to get an internet in my cabin here. It may not sound like much, but I figure while I'm not sending internet messages I can look at the pretty ladies, if you know what I mean. The woman down at the gas station gets kinda cranky if you try to look at nudie pictures on her machine, which is what I'm doing until they get me set up. So far, I ain't seen hide nor hair of this fella named Derek Webster who's supposed to bring me up a thing they call a "hub." I guess that's short for hubba-hubba.

So, once we get it all rollin, you can check out this page for the latest Olympic updates. I say latest because I'm watchin the old CBC on my rabbit ears, and you know they send the signal up over the North Pole from Italy, where the Games are, so it'll get to me first, up here. I'll just put all the pertinent info (pertinent: that's a big word: like pineapple. My sarge in the army used it a lot. Pertinent, not pineapple) up here lickity-split before the TV signal can get out to the rest of North America. Them folks at Maisonneuve are mighty bright. We're gonna scoop the rest of those bums! You can leave me messages right down there at the bottom, too. I'll check 'em regularly, as soon as I get my hubba-hubba.

Now, why in tarnation would they ask an old coot like me, who, like I was sayin, ain't so much all worked up over these Games as most folk? Well, I'll tell ya. Well, part of it anyway. In 1950, I was part of a secret Cold War operation in northern Russia. I mean, really north. I've got a lot of experience with the snow and ice. We ran some ops through ice tunnels with the Americans, and there was a young fella there that was really interested in sliding. We got to know each other, and, being from Canada, and having grown up sliding down the hills of Erindale Park in Mrs. Auga (as we like to call her), I taught the kid a thing or two. Two years later, American Patrick Henry Martin, won the silver medal in bobsleigh at the winter Olympics in Norway. So I guess you could say I know a thing or two about ice...

Anyway, as happy as I was for the guy, I'm still not sure this circus is the best use of my money. Hopefully that Harper guy'll put the kibosh on this kind of useless spending. I mean, if they want to compete, fine, but I don't wanna pay for it. For now, though, I'm getting my hubba-hubba, so I'll try and make nice.

See you all real soon!
D.S. Thompson.