I'M GLAD SEALS DON'T LIKE BUSH

This morning Kenai, our 8-year-old mutt and I took a walk on the beach near our house. It was a very low tide and we had the beach completely to ourselves. As I strolled along sipping my espresso and turning over rocks, several harbor seals came quite close to the shore to check us out. This is not an uncommon sight were we live but I rarely have the seal's undivided attention.

I remember Charles Wohlforth's unparalleled, outdoor survival advice about how to survive bear encounters in the wild. When approached by a bear, he tutored us, campers must lock arms, begin a high-leg kick and belt out "Were In the Money" as loud as lungs will allow. I am certain to this day that this advice will work on most bears. I'll have to ask him if it works on polar bears.

Back to the seals. Seals like "Were In the Money". In fact the half-dozen quickly swelled to 15 or-so as I sang. Now that I had a proper crowd, politics took hold. I decided to see how they would like my Bush impression: "duhhh, STRONG...duhhh, RESOLVE.....duhhhh, GOOD FOLKS...duhh, STRONG...duhh, TALL" My crowd of seals immediately dove and began to diminish.

Time to change tack. In order to recover from my seal gaff, I decide to do my best "siren call". I started to whistle "Patty's Leather Breeches" a traditional Scottish jig. This went over wonderfully with tail slaps and head bobbing all around.

A good artist always knows when to stop so on the high note, Kenai, the seals and I went on our way. I am glad I live in an area where I can have such morning adventures, and I am glad seals don't like Bush.


[By the power vested in me as First Sea Lord, For Services to the Crown, I Request and Require, You, Eric, to serve as Viceroy De Los Osos De San Juan De Fuca. You may be so recognized, and you Refuse This Service, Sir, at Your Peril, as Do The Crowns' subjects, who do Not Recognize Your Orders, as the Verisimilar Authority of the Crown. -Right Hon. First Sea Lord]