Lindsay Lohan

The horror at Newtown, Connecticut put a damper on the unending end-of-year parties. That includes my own Christmas blast at the Boom Boom Room in honor of Lindsay Lohan and some of the Big Bagel’s prettiest girls. At times I think I missed my vocation: Protector-Confessor of fallen women or those about to take the plunge. My only salvation lies in good old Helvetia, where the mother of my children will whip me back into shape in no time. No booze, no sex, just salads and mineral water. Ugh! Mind you, I’m not so sure about my marriage to Miss Lohan. Too many cops around her, and they make me nervous. My party began at 9PM and after eight hours it was still going. My bill was bigger than the Greek debt, and then some.

Ironically I had driven by Newtown a day before the massacre of innocent children on my way to Newport, Rhode Island to inspect a sailing boat up for sale that my father once owned. (The brave and extremely fast Nefertiti, built for the America’s Cup in 1962 by Ted Hood, back when racing boats were elegant and beautiful. Daddy never lost a race with her.)

One person dies every twenty minutes in America from gun wounds, and children in America are five times more likely to be murdered than in any other country of the industrialized world. What was a mother and housewife doing with five guns, especially with a weirdo of a son who probably spent his days watching violent video games and listening to rap music by people whose lyrics glamorize violence and glorify murder?

Yes, I’ve read all the stuff about guns, but no one is going to take them off the street—certainly not Obama, a man whose only talent lies in fooling all the people all of the time. Uncle Sam is the world’s greatest arms dealer, and the gun lobby is nearly as powerful as AIPAC. So whom are we kidding? Imagine if one of the slain teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary School had a gun on her and had killed the scumbag nerd; perhaps she might have even gotten away with it. But we tend to criminalize the good and absolve the guilty.

Many American professional football and basketball players, a majority of them African Americans, own guns and have permits to carry them. There have been murders and accidents galore where famous athletes have been involved, but less than a handful have gone to jail. These are supposedly role models, so no wonder black tots get caught regularly bringing guns to school. Two weeks before the Newtown massacre, a black Kansas City Chiefs football star murdered the mother of his three-month-old daughter, then drove to a practice facility next to Arrowhead Stadium and killed himself in front of his coaches. Yet people tell me that America is the greatest country on Earth.