John Kerry: macho jock

Question: Is John Kerry fit to be President of the United States and leader of the free world?

Answer: It all depends on what you mean by “fit”.

Democracy is a funny thing. The Heritage Foundation in Washington insists “Good Policy Makes Good Campaigns”. This is wishful wonkism. Wake up, wonks! Policy always plays second fiddle to hairstyle.

As I’ve said before, your average schmuck hasn’t the time to pore over the minutiae of policy. With little else to go on, voters judge candidates on their physical attributes. It’s a sound method of natural selection. Good-looking guys, like myself, make great statesmen. Whether we’re modelling fetching top hats at majestic state banquets, or posing as Tom “Maverick” Cruise in the cockpit of an F-16, we just look the part, you know?

Guys like me are just made for the public eye.

John Forbes Kerry is from the same breed of elite flyboys. He may be a Boston Brahmin with an Abe Lincoln profile, but JFK II, as he likes me to call him, is also a first-rate alpha male. Like his opponent, Kerry appeals to the Neanderthal in all of us.

According to Jim Margolis, Kerry’s ad man, the Democrat campaign slogan is simple: “John Kerry: He’s no weenie.”

This represents an important break with tradition. For several millennia, liberals like Kerry have always been weenies. American politics has long been subject to the Weenie Law of Leadership: Republicans kick ass; Democrats take tea at the UN.

All that looks set to change. Despite Kerry’s history of radical protestation, a Kerry presidency will not involve drippy peacenik sing-songs with lots of people who’ve made the criminal misjudgement of letting their hair grow over their ears.

Here’s why: John Kerry eats doves for lunch.

I repeat: John Kerry eats doves for lunch.

Amazingly, this is not a metaphor – though like most truths, it could be.

The dove is the universal symbol of peace. John Kerry likes nothing better than to prowl into the stalks of a Southern cornfield, whip out his shotgun, and blow away a flock of the pests. “You clean them. Let them hang … You might eat it at a picnic, cold roasted. I love dove,” the six-foot–four killer told the Washington Post, explaining how he loves to carve out the heart and rip away at the entrails.

Kerry is a man’s man, and I don’t mean in the Oscar Wilde sense.

In addition to massacring wildlife, the presidential hopeful is a feared executioner of the indelicate sport of ice hockey. According to ESPN, Kerry can “mix it up on the rink” with the best of them – NHL hall-of-famers included. Vigorously skating the frozen Turkey Pond of the elitist St. Paul’s School in New Hampshire, Kerry perfected the art of separating his opponents from their molars. His teenage teammates included FBI Director Robert Mueller – a power play if ever there was one!

Off the ice, JFK II likes to rev up his Harley, knot his bandana, slip on his wraparounds, and bike off into the dusty sunset. He snowboards, windsurfs and kitesurfs (whatever that means). He scored a soccer hat-trick at Yale, played lacrosse in his youth, and cycles like Lance Armstrong might if he had to spend several months of the year on the floor of the Senate.

He says he wants to be the first “extreme” president.

He’s a certified pilot who flies barrel rolls and loop-de-loops and once tried to soar his two-seater plane under the Golden Gate Bridge. In Pamplona, he was trampled by a bull, got back to his feet, dusted down his pants and chased the marauding beast down the street, grabbing for its horns.

Still not convinced he’s up to being commander-in-chief? Read how he described riding the waves to Windsurfing magazine: “It’s a mixture of skiing, flying, sailing, and the great challenge of walking on water. But it’s also a form of meditation, because of the concentration and the mix of managing water, wind, and obstacles. It all fits into that exhilaration that comes from the combination of these forces coming together.”

I’ll be darned if I’ve ever heard a better description of the presidency!

If I were a woman (and I’m not, despite my name), I might be a tad concerned about all this testosterone spraying across the political landscape. The Kerry-Bush race for the White House is less a test of character or intellect than a well-oiled muscle contest. The choice in November is simple: tough guy or tough guy. We’ve come a long way since women’s lib, eh girls?

Personally, I’m all for a wrestling meet. It sure beats a debate on Medicare. All that does is give voters a headache. They go to the doctor, who tells them, “No insurance, no pills. Want some advice? Stop following politics.”

When push comes to shove, I’m a sucker for this rough stuff. Stories of John Edwards climbing a mountain without oxygen leave me gasping for breath. To read how President Bush sailed over his handlebars face first into the gravel, only to refuse secret service assistance, hop his butt back on his seat, and peddle several miles home to the ranch, stretches my Lycra shorts dangerously close to snapping-point. The legend of John Kerry on the ice, in the water, up above the clouds, and (in the immortal words of the Washington Post) sporting “such thick, aggressive hair he uses a brush with metal teeth”, is enough to get me reaching for the smelling salts.

The problem is, I’m wondering if this whole macho-politico thing ain’t just a giant ruse. Is Kerry really such a jock, I wonder? Is the school of spinmeisters up to its old tricks?

Two things leave me sceptical. The first is the ceremonial opening pitch Kerry bounced in the Yankees-Red Sox game the other week. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a limp-wristed effort. It was embarrassing, landed in the dirt and hopped past the crouching military serviceman who was pretending to be catcher. As Jonathan Gould, heroic presenter of Britain’s late-night Channel 5 baseball coverage, cried: “There goes the presidency!”

Then there’s the prize-winning speech Kerry delivered for the Concordian Literary Society as a pupil at St. Paul’s. The title says it all: “Resolved: that the growth of spectator sports in the western world in the last half century is an indication of the decline of western civilisation.”

Good luck, John. With anti-jock credentials like these, you’re gonna need it.