The Children's Pool: Blubberasses on the Beach.

Way down south by the sea in La Jolla (in California, that is), there's a sweet little cove originally dubbed "The Children's Pool," because it was perfect for the kids, sheltered from violent surf, with waves rolling on a shallow bottom. It is small enough so that no child can be lost on the beach and you could reach either end of the beautiful cove in 5 seconds if your child needed help. The breakwater wall construction was paid for and gifted to the city by Ellen Browning Scripps  in 1931 specifically so the children would have a perfect beach to play on and swim.

Seals, too, loved this cove with its comfy rock formations.

And the kids loved the seals, so fascinated that they would cavort and shout to see the seals react. These childish shenanigans alarmed the environmental crusaders--the little shits were chasing the seals away, they thought.

So the Powers That Be posted a lot of rules restricting the people's behavior--no running towards the seals or shouting. But, of course, no one could control the children's celebrations. So, the authorities decided that the seals needed protection. They were anxious to coddle nature, excepting, of course, the nature of children, which was a lower priority.



Thus, The Children's Pool was closed to swimming in 1991 because of "continuously high fecal coliform counts." In other words, it was full of shit and became a sanctuary for seals. They roped off humans from all approaches to the water and relegated them to 20 feet in the back of the cove, where you are free to stand in the hot sand and take pictures of nature at work--no swimming, kids.

One San Diego resident told me that the trained seals at the famous aquarium at Sea World are the cream of the crop. Any seal too fat, lazy or otherwise unattractive is taken out to sea and dropped off near La Jolla so they can take advantage of The Children's Pool.

Don't imagine a delightful proliferation of seals swimming, smooching and jumping off rocks. The population lays on the sand all day like giant slugs on a bed of wet dirt. You can stand on the cliff above watching for thirty minutes without detecting any movement beyond the twitch of whiskers or the lazy flop of a tail. In fact, some of them may be dying or dead right before your eyes. It's hard to tell, until they start rotting.



Thirty feet above the cove, an extravagant new lifeguard station is under construction. Whose lives will they be guarding?

Children have been pushed off to adjacent beaches where the surf knocks adults on their asses and, if you're downwind, the stink from The Children's Pool (still so named) stings your nostrils.

Pretty soon, the lifeguards will probably be assigned to feed the seals by hand because the poor animals are too fat to fish--welfare for seals.

Won't that be nice? You can watch the seals swallow fish and see and smell the remains ooze out the other end.

Ah, nature.

Never mind the children, why didn't Michelle Obama put these blubberasses on a diet.