Dolphin Death Squad

Original title:  Weary Welch Wonders At News.

From May 16, 1990 – JDW

“It’s terrible doing a weekly column, because it’s like always having a term paper due.  Worse than a term paper, really, because if you don’t do it, they can take away your house.”

Dave Barry said that, in the May issue of Playboy, which I bought because they were out of Field & Stream.  Honest.  I only read the articles.  Of course, I did peruse the centerfold’s data sheet to see if she was a Capricorn.  Tina’s ambitions?  “To be an actress on a soap and to promote Playboy as long as possible.”  Her most admired woman?  “My Mom.”  Tina Sr. finished just ahead of “runner-up: Cher!”  Sonny Bono’s ex-mom.

I just returned from two weeks on the road.  During one stretch, I was awake for thirty-seven-(37)-consecutive hours in a row.  I consumed three airline meals in a single day.  And lived to tell about it.  I found myself in the Chicago airport terminal at 4 a.m.  Central Daylight Time.  It was like being buried in an underground fallout shelter with religious fanatics.  My only connection to the real world was a day-old copy of USA Today.  With the sports pages missing.

I traveled to Spokane for Cinco de Mayo.  Can’t talk about it.  Took a guac on the wild side.

Mostly I visited relatives.  My mom started feeding me childhood favorites while we were still in baggage claim.

“Remember how you loved Cocoa Puffs?,” she asked, pulling a box from her purse, which was twice the size of my carry-on luggage.

No.  I don’t remember.  In fact, I didn’t recognize a number of the special meals the old girl fed me.  But, I always had a second helping.  She was just so happy to be cooking for me again.  “More okra and liverwurst, honey?”  Sure, but hold the Bac-o-bits this time.

Norma (Mom) leads such a simple life.  She takes care of Dad – admittedly a full-time job – and she does crossword puzzles.  In ink.  She also watches television.  A lot of it.  (She’s got a remote and a VCR.)  Game shows, primarily.

She’s so damn good.  Vanna turns over an M, right in the middle of a famous person’s name.  “Nixon!”  Mom shouts out the correct answer, then sits back triumphantly. Shouldn’t you at least wait for the second letter?, I ask.

I think she’s bored.  I asked if she’d responded to the Census.  “Well, of course, I did,” she said rather patriotically.  “Sent it back the same afternoon.” She switched to another channel.  “Actually, I was hoping we’d get the long form.  Could’ve used the excitement.”

So, she’d watch her shows and I’d read in the chair nearby.

Did you see that “a former Navy dolphin trainer says the service is arming sea mammals with nose guns and teaching them to kill enemy frogmen?”  It’s true.  Sea lions have also been trained to use a bite-plate attached to a cannister of bullets.  Your tax dollars at work.  They call it “the swimmer nullification program.”

They could just as easily call it the DOLPHIN DEATH SQUAD.  Thirteen of the conscripts died in a two-year period, nearly half from stomach ulcers and lack of appetite.  Maybe they don’t like their job.  Maybe they’re better than that.

In other news, Michael Milken, the billionaire junk bond felon, may discover that his $600 million fine is actually a tax windfall.  Experts say $400 million of it could be fully tax-deductible as “an ordinary cost of doing business.”  Is this a great country or what?

According to Lee Iacocca, it depends.  This new-car salesman is the guy who spends most of his time telling us that American products are every bit as good as Japan’s. (I’ve got a Chrysler in the driveway says he’s wrong.)  So imagine my surprise when I saw Iacocca is spending U.S. dollars to buy Japanese equipment for one of his factories.  Which is located in Canada.

“To be competitive we must be the low-cost producer,” explained a Chrysler flack.  “That does not mean spending extra dollars just to buy something built in the United States.”  Oh, what a feeling.

The Chicago Tribune reported this eyewitness account of Ron and Nancy Reagan’s 1982 visit to Claudette Colbert’s fiefdom in Barbados.

“They were there eight days and it cost the taxpayers $5 million.  They had fire engines, four helicopters, three limos and a 100-member White House communications team.  They installed fifty (50) telephones all over the island, so Mrs. Reagan could stay in touch with the astrologer.

“There were missile detectors at the cocktail parties and eight photographers to take pictures for the scrapbook.  They had 318 people on their personal staff, 200 in the press covering all this and 302 others who then accompanied them to California for Mrs. Reagan’s shopping trip.  Ludwig “The Mad” of Bavaria never lived like this.”

Sure, “The Mad” didn’t have missile detectors.

Then there was the tobacco company poll of 3,000 women which said the male of our species is “mean, manipulative, over-sexed, self-centered and lazy.”  Those were our good points.  Furthermore, 54% of the women surveyed believe “most men look at a woman and immediately think how it would be to go to bed with her.”

And they say we’re self-centered.  Twenty years ago, 13% of the women surveyed believed this to be true.

I’ll bet men haven’t changed one iota.  Not a bit.  Men look at women and think of them as women.  Members of the opposite sex.  We’re guys.  It’s our job.  But, frankly, I suggest maybe 68.2% of the women who felt men are lusting after them at first glance are kidding themselves.

We’re thinking about drilling new holes in our bowling balls.