I Was Wrong?

Oops!
A couple of days ago, The Lifeguard applauded the choice of Javier Sotomayor as the latest Supreme Court nominee. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

President Obama had nominated Judge Sonia Sotomayor, pictured above, to be the first Hispanic justice.

A self-described Newyorican, Judge Sotomayor is a graduate of Princeton (cum laude) and Yale Law School (where she was an editor of the Yale Law Journal). While she only high jumps a mere half-metre, she is well respected by lawyers who appear before her.

Still, The Lifeguard is a little nonplussed at this pick. As such, The Lifeguard reserves judgment on Judge Sotomayor until after he has read some of her decisions.

Peace!

HFWTFMF?

AT LEAST NERO PLAYED THE FIDDLE...

President Barack Hussein Obama--who is not a Muslim--took his baby mama to The Big Apple, for dinner and the theatre. (How sweet.) At least he didn't take the big plane, which had scared the shit out of thousands of New Yorkers earlier this year. And, since he went on the cheap, it only cost The Lifeguard (and the American taxpayer) about $45,000.00.

The best part, however, is that our star pupil did this on the eve of General Motors' Chapter 11 filing.

You know, right about the time that thousands of Democrat voters are sweating the details that may land them on the unemployment line, the Maximum Leader is eating, drinking and making merry with the First Lady.

What a tool.

And, for his unbelievable sense of noblesse oblige, President Obama (and Baby Mama Obama) win The Lifeguard's vote for "Dumbasses of the Week."

Congratulations!

SOTOMAYOR IS A GREAT NOMINATION!
The Lifeguard likes the pick of Javier Sotomayor to replace Justice David Souter on the Supreme Court of the United States.

If confirmed, the Cuban-born Sotomayor would become the first Hispanic (and Olympic medalist) on the Court. He is 42, and will likely have a long career on the Court. As perhaps the greatest high jumper in history, he will certainly raise the bar for his fellow justices. He is a devout communist, which makes him a top choice for the Senate Democrats which will have to confirm him. He is a supporter of abortion rights, banning guns, and imprisoning and torturing those who don't support the Maximum Leader.

He has a brilliant legal mind, and is a graduate of the Universidad de la Habana, where he took a law degree, with honours, from the alma mater of the Maximum Leader. He is also an Olympic gold medalist.

Sadly, Sotomayor was accused of drug use (the positive cocaine test is not the problem; but, the steroid use is). Still, if confirmed, Sotomayor would be an asset to the Court (especially at the Judicial Branch's summer picnic).

The Lifeguard is pleased that President Obama has not made a cynical pick of an Hispanic to fill Justice Souter's seat. At the moment, The Lifeguard is poring over Sotomayor's judicial record; and, when finished, will make an assessment on the merits of this nomination.

At the moment, however, The Lifeguard likes this choice.

Well done, President Obama.

DFL? DFT!

The Lifeguard Raced In The Figawi...
and he is still tired.

Menage A Trois struggled with sustained 20 knot winds; and, we suffered because we stayed high on the course (expecting a wind shift that never arrived). Although we did not lack talented crew, we made tactical errors (staying high, even though the majority of the fleet started reaching off almost immediately), sail-handling errors (the sails never looked that great), and weather helm that kept Menage rounding up every minute or so.

As a consequence, we had our worst Figawi finish...ever. DFL.

But, Nantucket was a blast, and my liver survived.

The Lifeguard Runs, Too!

These Women Weren't In My Road Race...
The Lifeguard, wanting to get back into top physical condition for the summer drinking season, planned on entering a 5K that was a fundraiser for a local charity. (Donate here, if you wish.) I talked about it for weeks, until finally Number Two asked, "Dad, when are you going to start training for the race?"

The Lifeguard's snarky (and, totally honest) answer: "When does the race start?"

So, on May 9th, The Lifeguard showed up at 1045 HRS (for an 1100 HRS gun). Stretching for two minutes or so, then pinning on my number, I started stalking the competition. Preferring to trash talk men and women pushing baby joggers, the seemingly mentally deficient, and the physically infirm, The Lifeguard took his place in the herd.

Hell, I knew that the crowd would sort itself out--the racers breaking from the pack, leaving the runners behind. And, the course was suited for that--one lap around the track, then out onto the local roads.

The Lifeguard started in the middle of the pack, getting out of starting area in 1:49 for the first quarter-mile. (A pace that still would not have put The Lifeguard in the money.) The first hill was nearly my Waterloo--I have never done well on downhills--when I started feeling a little knee pain. (The Lifeguard is thinking that it would be really embarrassing to drop out at the 1 mile mark, especially since there is no nearby bar; and, no way to pull a Rosie Ruiz.)

I started thinking, at the 1.5 mile mark about Richard Pryor (who talked about getting a cramp while running).

"Hello, I'll be fucking with you for the next hour or so. I'll be moving from side to side, down your groin, and up your ass. When you drop dead, I will stop."

At the 2 mile mark, the men and women pushing baby joggers were passing me (including one woman whose child was wearing a hockey helmet). Now, don't get me wrong, I get the whole safety thing; but, making your child look like a tool when you are wearing running shorts and a pink LIVESTRONG singlet is so wrong. Kicking my ass while you're doing it? Even more wrong, even more emasculating.

On the uphill to the finish, The Lifeguard was managing to stay focused, in spite of the tremendous buildup of lactic acid (and thoughts of having erred by not training for this race). I managed to pass a few people, too. (Of course, those people were receiving medical attention; but still....)

Then, the finish. Fighting off the pregnant woman (who later delivered her triplets on the infield), I managed to get through the gate in 33:45 (my best 5K time since my last 5K, in 1989). And, while I wasn't first, I sure as Hell wasn't last...so that is something.

And, the day after, The Lifeguard's quads are still screaming; but, I finished.

Next up, The Boston Marathon...

Now playing centerfield, Dominic DiMaggio.

Where Have You Gone, Dom DiMaggio?
The "Little Professor" died peacefully yesterday, reportedly while watching a replay of the Indians v. Red Sox game.

A lifetime .298 hitter, DiMaggio was one of the greatest centerfielders to play for the Red Sox; and, his 34-game hitting streak in 1949 remains a Red Sox record. He was known for his great arm, tremendous range, and capacity to read the batter. Indeed, Ted Williams, DiMaggio's partner in the outfield, noted that he and DiMaggio had a deal that DiMaggio would get every ball that he could. (Even Ted Williams followed the "Rule of Nine.")

The 5'9", 168 pound DiMaggio joined his brothers, Vince and Joe in professional baseball, where he enjoyed a ten-year career. DiMaggio later went on to not marry Marilyn Monroe or be remembered in a Simon and Garfunkel song. Instead, he was a founding partner of the Boston (later New England) Patriots and a successful Boston businessman. He is survived by his wife of 61 years, Emily, and three children, Dominic Paul, Peter and Emily. Oh, and of all of the citizens of Red Sox Nation.

God bless you, Dominic DiMaggio.

Photo Oops!

What Is It With Muslims And Airplanes (And New York City)?
President Barack Hussein Obama (who is not a Muslim) wanted a shot of a VC-25--the military variant of the Boeing 747 (more commonly referred to as Air Force One)--flying over New York City.

Rather than have his best and brightest PhotoShop something, his best and brightest arranged to have Air Force One fly low--really low--over New York City (with at least one F.16 apparently in pursuit). Oh, and White House Military Office Director, Louis Caldera, called everyone...except for Mayor Michael Bloomberg (and the thousands of people scared shitless by the sound of a low-flying jet over Manhattan.)

Instead of generating massive amounts of pride in their country, the flyover generated massive amounts of panic and cost scads in lost productivity.

For this incredible waste of taxpayer money (and the good will of the good citizens of New York City), The Lifeguard gives President Obama (and his personal douche) the "Dumbass of the Week" Award.

Fuck The Heck?!?

President Obama Travels The World...
working the diplomatic version of a glory hole, as he smiles, bows, caresses, and apologises his way into the hearts and minds of every enemy of the American state. Eight years of Gunboat Diplomacy were beyond the ken of our beloved President Obama; and, he is going to effect a change--overnight. Naively, like a man walking among a streak of tigers, he believes that if he gives away his colourful new clothes, his shoes and his umbrella, the hungry cats will leave him alone.

Sadly, he has weakened America's position, and the hungry tigers--called Ahmadinejad, Chavez, Castro and Abdullah--can smell the weakness, the deference. They will not be running 'round the tree, turning themselves into delicious melted butter.

Instead, we can expect more sabre-rattling from Ahmadinejad, Castro and Chavez. We can expect more crazy Islamists, learning their trade at Saudi-funded madrassas (Slogan: "Training the Taliban, one smelly, sweaty, religious crackpot at a time!") And, we can expect the United States to become a mere shadow of what it once was.

As someone once noted, "Those that fail to learn from history, are doomed to repeat it."

What The Deuce?

The Lifeguard Was Out The Other Night,
enjoying a few cocktails, thinking about Surf City (where there are two girls for every boy), and the upcoming sailing season.

When I went outside, I found that she'd dug her key into the side of my pretty little souped-up four wheel drive, then carved her name into my leather seats. She took a Louisville Slugger to both headlights and slashed a hole in all four tyres. She left me a note, saying "Maybe next time you'll think before you cheat."

So, I dialed 911. Within minutes, Boston's finest were on the scene, taking pictures, dusting for fingerprints, and shortly thereafter, placing her under arrest. Really, you don't need brilliant police work when her motherhumping name is carved into my leather seats. She might as well have left her address and phone number, with a note that says, "Please arrest my sorry, stupid ass."

Maybe next time she'll think before engaging in the malicious destruction of property.

Wrong!

NATO Ships And Helicopters Hunt Pirates...
then, they let them go.

Dumb asses.

Not that anyone asked The Lifeguard; but, those same NATO crews should have shot the mother*&^%ers. (Well, they could have given them a trial first.) That way, they can't come back later to haunt merchant shipping in the region.

And, for the record, if the Free World is going to consider halting piracy to be a law enforcement problem, then they should remember that giving the criminals the opportunity to dispose of the evidence during a protracted chase is WRONG!

Coincidence? I Think Not.

Captain Richard Phillips Is Safe...
and three Skinnies are dead. The fourth is in the custody of the United States Navy.

I note that the rescue took place just a few hours after The Lifeguard indicated his intent to move to France if immediate action was not taken.

I am, however, a bit concerned that the chattering skulls are talking about the Skinny doing a life term in a U.S. prison and not a long walk on a short plank. A life-term in an American prison is probably a whole lot better gig than a life-term in a Somali village. Shit, he'll get three squares a day, a bed in a small (but climate-controlled) cell, 105 channels, and access to the best lawyers that the ACLU can buy.

To paraphrase Crocodile Dundee, "That's not life. That's the life."

Peut-etre que?

Le sauvetage se dirige vers la France?

Si le président Obama ne prend pas de mesures contre les pirates, je viens peut-être. J'aime le vin français, les femmes en France (quand ils se sont marié), et les frites. Le seul point négatif est que je dois apprendre à parler français.

Au moins le Président Sarkozy a une colonne vertébrale ... et une belle femme.

Happy Easter!

Christ Is Risen!
The Lifeguard wishes y'all a Happy and Blessed Easter.

Poetic Justice?

I Am Sure Former VP Dick Cheney Is Smiling...
How unbelievably cool would it be if Captain Richard Phillips were rescued by the USS Halyburton (FFG-40)?

Halliburton. Halyburton.

Ha!

Effin' A, Cotton. Effin' A.

The French Have Balls.
Four words that The Lifeguard thought he'd never utter. But, it's true. And, French president, Nicolas Sarkozy, showed them by ordering the French Navy to storm a yacht seized by hostis humani generis--enemies of the human race. The French did, killing one hostage--Florent Lemacon, the yacht's owner--in the process; but, freeing the other folks on the vessel (including Lemacon's son).

Sarkozy gave the order to attack at 1530HRS; and, thirty seconds later, the French were on the S/V Tanit, kicking ass and taking names.

Sadly, the French didn't kill every last pirate. But, there is hope, because the French continue to take the lead role in eradicating high seas piracy.

Who'd have thought that the French president would order swift action, while the American president lets an American merchant sailor languish in a lifeboat with Somali pirates, while the FBI (the motherhumping FBI) handles the negotiations.

Shit, if The Lifeguard were in charge, the negotiations would go like this:

Lifeguard: "Surrender now, or we will board the lifeboat and kill you all."

Skinny: "We want $2M."

Lifeguard: "Go fuck yourself. You have thirty seconds."

Skinny: "We are serious."

Lifeguard: "Oh, and we will hunt your families down and kill them all, if Captain Phillips is harmed."

Skinny: "We surrender. "

Lifeguard: [Taking Phillips aboard the Navy SEALS' RIB] "Thank you."

Lifeguard: "Sink the boat, light up their village."

Skinny: "But you promised...."

At this point, fifteen BGM-109 Tomahawk cruise missiles leave the USS Bainbridge, bound for the Somali shitholes that harbour the pirates. At the same time, the pirates are bound and carried aboard the Bainbridge, where they are tried, convicted and hanged as the Tomahawks hit their targets. Hoo-Rah!

Are They Kidding?

"How About 'Blow Me, PETA'?"

Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, better known as the Pet Shop Boys, gave PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) the finger, rejecting a proposal that the band change its name to "Rescue Shelter Boys."

Which makes me wonder, is PETA still relevant?

Are the Pet Shop Boys still relevant?

Does anyone, aside from Chris Lowe, Neil Tennant, and PETA even give a rat's arse?

The Lifeguard is guessing that the answer is, "No."

The Lifeguard Is Powerless To Help...

"Your President Obama Promised Us Stimulus Money"
Unfortunately, the chickens have come home to roost. When the Chinese and Danish Navies failed to kill every last pirate they captured in February, the pirates were emboldened.

Now, they are testing the limits of U.S. resolve by taking an American vessel, the Maersk Alabama. And, though the USS Bainbridge (DDG-96) is on the scene, you can bet your sweet ass that their response will be not unlike that of the USS Cole. (Lots of talk, no action.)

Rather than talk, the Bainbridge should light up the Somali village that harbours these scum-of-the-sea like the Fourth of Fucking July. A couple of BGM-109 Tomahawks would do nicely; and, the ship's complement of Marines could be tasked with clean-up (and body count) duties. If that is not enough to persuade the pirates to return their hostage, then a few more Tomahawks could be sent to couple of "targets of opportunity" in Mogadishu. (And, frankly, we'd be doing them a favour by bombing them forward, into the Stone Age.)

In the meantime, The Lifeguard will be monitoring the situation, and awaiting the call from President Obama, who will surely be ringing to ask for advice.

In the meantime, the food aid meant for President Obama's kinfolk in Kenya (or, at least those not living illegally in public housing in Boston) sits on the deck of a container ship off the Horn of Africa....

The First Step Is Admitting You Have A Problem...

I Am A Carmex Addict...
I reached into my pocket this evening and I couldn't find my pot. I was jonesing, and I needed my fix.

Fortunately, I have a spare pot hidden in the glove box of the Swedish Ford.

Is that indicative of a problem?

Ketel Car?

The Things One Notices After Eight Cocktails...
Ketel One's lemon-flavoured vodka--Ketel One Citroen--is delicious.

As I was contemplating the label on the bottle, I found it somewhat ironic--like rain, on your wedding day--that the car company has the same spelling.

Coincidence?

The Lifeguard thinks not.

The Lifeguard Saves....

I Love NPR!

Those are words that 89% of the free world never thought they'd hear The Lifeguard say.

Listening the other day, I contemplated the present economic crisis here in the United States. (I was thinking globally, but thought that we should act locally.) The NPR reporter talked about the staggering job losses here in the U.S. (the worst unemployment since late 1983, not The Great Depression, as some would have us believe), followed by a story on a raid by armed immigration agents on Yamato Engine Specialists, where 28 workers were led away in handcuffs (then later released following outrage at the Obama Administration by the Hispanic community).

I hit upon the solution to the whole blessed problem: Deport every last illegal alien.

This will do several things.

First, it will clear out about twelve million (or so) criminals. The one way tickets back to Mexico (or some other Third World shithole) would provide a great stimulus to the airline industry. ("Delta: Deporting Every Last Troublesome Alien") We could let Aeromexico and Tikal Jets Airlines get in on the act, too. Hell, let Air Canada do some of the yeoman's work, too. (Those pesky Canadian frostbacks have got to go, as well.)

Second, it will open up scads of jobs. Sure, those jobs might be menial; but, as we are always being told, they are very important, hence the need for all of those illegal...um...undocumented workers. We could put--conservatively--eight million of the unemployed back to work straightaway. On top of that, we could hire some of those that are unemployed as border guards and enforcement agents.

Third, it will help education in the United States. Imagine how much more effectively the children could learn if their teachers didn't have to worry about non-English speakers in their classrooms. And, the over-burdened schools would get an immediate respite in the form fewer pupils per teacher (which is the goal, right?). No in-state college tuition to illegal aliens also equates to a significant savings. If the Government of Mexico wants Juan to go to Cal-Berkeley, let the Government of Mexico pay out-of-state tuition. (Or, let Juan pay it himself, after he applies for a student visa.)

Fourth, it would help the U.S. economy by keeping dollars at home. Immigrants send about $45 billion dollars to Latin America alone. Keeping that money here, in the United States, would be a boon to the economy. As an aside, forcing the productive members of, say, Mexican society to stay in Mexico might also be a boon to the Mexican economy. This amounts to as much as $1.2 billion to a state, like North Carolina, which loses that amount as a result of remittances abroad. Multiply that across the fifty states, and the benefit to the U.S. economy is staggering.

Finally, the savings in health care costs would be enormous. Illegal immigrants go to the emergency room for sniffles; and, those living on the border cross into America for pre-natal care (and to give birth to their anchor babies). Since an estimated 64% of the illegals in America are uninsured, this would result in a massive reduction in the strain on the hospitals in the country.

In the next installment, The Lifeguard will analyse the improvements that need to be made in the legal infrastructure to effect the changes discussed.

Hold on to your hats, it'll be a bumpy ride.