News Flash: US Political Consultants Hit New Lows, Sling Mud

Okay -- perhaps that's an exaggeration to say that political consultants hitting new lows and engage in mudslinging is a news flash (Editor's note: strike the word "perhaps").

But after a quick trip to the Masada gift shop (slogan: "You'd be committing suicide if you don't buy anything here!"), we took a short drive along the shores of the Dead Sea to a resort area.

The shores of the Dead Sea is the lowest point on Earth (nearly as low as a US political campaign can reach!). We pulled into a nice resort in an area that has a slew of resorts (after miles, and miles of nothing but the occasional oasis). We were able to change in their locker rooms.

The Dead Sea is a popular weekend trip, particularly for those seeking spa treatment or skin care (people with psoriasis often have it "cured" for months on end after a visit). The resorts have pools, spas, spa treatments, and nice restaurants. Given the desert climate and summer time heat, the only thing missing are casinos (hmmm, I sense a bipartisan business opportunity!).

We changed, and some of the folks bought bags of mud for twelve shekels (or $3) for mudbathing (go ahead and laugh -- you would think consultants would have their own mud handy at all times). Ed, Tom King, and I were the first three out in the water. It wasn't what we expected (although, frankly, I'm not what we expected).

After walking on a rubber ramp to protect our feet from the hailstone sized pieces of salt at the bottom, we gently flopped on our backs and floated. Due to the hypersalinization, you can't not float (I know, a double negative, but it's just a blog, not an English paper!). We found that it was hard to stand upright in the water -- my feet would immediately bob to the surface. When people got out of the water, some would be covered with salt, while others not so much.

Others joined us, included some who had muddied up. The water was relatively warm. After a bit, I was cajoled into putting on some mud (I have no pictures, so there will be none on the blog). Jim, Aaron, and I smeared mud all over ourselves (the three of us are pretty comfortable with our heterosexual selves, as we also smeared on each other's backs and shoulders). Aaron and I put some on our faces, and Jim went 90% commando, smearing all over his face. (Ummm, 100% commando would have been too much to contemplate, but Jim did keep his bathing suit on). Others had muddied up to, but I'm not sure they were quite as entertaining -- although Chip gave us a run for the money.

Like a dipped Dairy Queen cone (and we are pretty much vanilla white), the mud dried and hardened in the sun. Once back in the water, the mud slowly came off, making our skin silky smooth (again, that's written as a heterosexual married guy with three children).

Ed had ignored the warnings not to shave, as he did shave his neck, and that provided some stinging. But that was an Einstein move compared to Jim and Aaron dunking their muddy faces in the water despite repeated warnings not to do so. (As children, they liked wetting their fingers and sticking them in electrical outlets). Ian and Marilyn's repeated predictions of pain came true for them. As John Madden once said, "Irony can be so ironic" -- a TV guy and a mail guy stung by their own mudslinging. I had the good sense to simply shower the mud off my face.

We then enjoy a Sabbath buffet lunch after others had hit the spa and Lee had a massage. We were all feeling pretty resorty. On the way back, some spotted an Ibex on a hill. We also caught a stunning view of the Old City after the bus went through the Mount of Olives tunnel.