*&^%($ Deleted?

As a writer, the infernal problem of whether to use the *&^(% -word is ever-looming. If you do, you lose readers. If you don't, you lose credibility. Picture this: Two members of MS-13, the notoriously vicious gang with ties to drug lords and even al-Qaeda, are discussing ...well, anything.

MS-13 #1: "Gosh, Paco, those mean guys from Zeta are cramping our style. I suggest we remove their private parts and stuff them in their darned mouths."
MS-13 #2: "Wonderfully-A!"

You get the idea. While I, like many of you, are worn to to a frazzle by a Soprano's conversation, we also have to realize that's just the way these folks talk. And that, my friends, is my solution to the entire problem: verbal cleansing.

Each and every mother in the entire world, and especially New Jersey, will be issued a large box of (organically made and pesticide free, of course) soap upon giving birth. Upon penalty of death, she will be responsible for washing out the mouths of children that utter bad stuff. Once all forms of scatological and genealogical terminology have been obliterated from the spoken word, we can then turn to the word, "like." I don't know about you, but I would, like, really love to see that word, like, erased.

Summer in the Sea

Years ago a very clever sailor with a background in radio created a hilarious rundown of what to expect if you summer-over in the sea. I have long since lost that tape, but will try to remember some of it. If anyone else out there has the script, please let me know.

June 1: Mass exodus as cruisers put their boats on the hard, in slips, on moorings. Those with air conditioning secure a slip. Those without make the brave decision to summer-over. But where?

For years we've heard the summer-overs talk about heading for the relative "cool" of the northern Sea, around Bahia de los Angeles. Cooler than what? Hell?

July 1: All sex stops in the Sea of Cortez

August 1: Urine turns from brown to black, no seeum bites abound. By now everyone has lost at least ten pounds and relationships are strained to the breaking point. (See July 1)

September 1: Hurricanes threaten the Sea. Up until now they have stayed south, gone to Hawaii to screw up someone's honeymoon, or some such. Now they are setting their sights on a scraggly bunch of skinny, grouchy sailors gathered in northern Sea.

October 1: Only two more weeks of heat to go, but now the serious hurricane season is in full bloom, sending boaters scurrying hither, thither and yon for cover.

October 15: Glorious cool returns, as do the cruisers who abandoned ship and fled for cooler climes in June. The summer-overs regale their lessers with tales of a glorious summer in Sea. But where, the returnees ask, is your wife/girlfriend/mate/crew?

Novemer 1: Singlehanders abound in the Sea.

Jinx Schwartz's Blog

It's summer, stupid!
Okay, call me a wimp, but I love air conditioning.
Our first two years in the Sea of Cortez, 1990 and 1991, we stayed through the summer, snookered by two uncommonly cool seasons. And, we had AC.
July 11, 1991, the total eclipse of the sun was an event of chilling proportions. No AC needed that day when, around noon, the sun went out and frissons of excitement shivered our timbers, mate.
This summer we will return to the Sea in July, lured by warm, clear water and, yep, our air conditioned boat.
After a day of writing in cooled air comfort, we will chug from the hot and muggy marina in late afternoon, snorkel, swim and enjoy a cooling ride back after sunset. Once back at the dock, on goes the AC.
What can I say, sea wench or no, I am also a sea wimp.