John Boston | Navy’s New Woke Fizzy Fitness Tests

John Boston

Editor’s note: The following column incorrectly implies that Admiral Rachel Levine is in the Navy. Levine is actually the head of the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, which is not considered an armed force but is one of eight U.S. uniformed services.

I was more than a little relieved to hear that, finally, at least one branch of our military was taking a serious look at their physical fitness standards. Last week, the Navy announced they were reassessing physical fitness failure standards by giving a one-time forgiveness for, what the Pentagon calls, “…ahem, shortness of breath.” 

OK. So I made up the quote. But, the Navy actually did release a statement calling for: “…a one-time reset of all PFA failures.” A PFA is Navy-talk for “Physical Fitness Assessment” which is what we English-speaking people like to call, “fat.” 

The move was designed to make it easier to attract out-of-shape people into the ranks of our seagoing forces along with helping existing, ahem, plump, sailors work their way, laboriously, up the salt water career ladder. I’m guessing Navy brass started noticing it was taking an inordinate amount of time getting their submarines to surface.  

The Navy release, in WokeSpeak, announced that this “reset” was designed to, “…level the playing field and ensure every sailor with the drive to continue has an opportunity to meet fitness standards.” Well. Wrap a lei around that and say aloha to the girl’s push-up. 

I would think that at the top of the list of “Defense” would be the ability to make a fist without breaking a sweat, let alone chomping on a cigar and one-hand-holding a M134 GAU-Gatling Gun while aerating godless socialists in distant harbors.  

(Note to ATF: I swear I don’t own a M134 GAU-Gatling Gun; I had to look up the M134 GAU on the Internet and promise I didn’t copy the model number from one of the unopened ammo boxes in Signal Editor Tim Whyte’s garage, address available upon request.) 

I’m wondering if there’s some sort of insider slap-fighting going on at the Pentagon with this F.F.T.I.T.H.A.L.A.R.T.B.S Act (Forgiveness For The Inability To Hoist A Leg Over A Rail To Board Ship). Was it directed at the transelephant in the room, four-star Admiral Dr. Rachel Levine, the only openly trans four-star officer (the one in the sassy Donald Duck uniform) of our military’s eight branches? 

That would be the Army, the Navy, Knitting, Accessorizing, Brunch, To Just Die For Size 14 Jimmy Choo High Heels In 6X Extra-Wide, Scrapbooking, and, of course, the Coast Guard. Was it some kind of dig by old dinosaur Navy brass at Admiral Levine, implying that if you can’t ascend a rope rigging in a Ross Dress For Less Hillary Clinton Teletubby pantsuit while a drill instructor is roasting your heinie with a flame thrower that maybe you belong in the Marines? 

Just what are these new, relaxed standards? The Navy version of a Drill Sergeant is called an RCC, or Recruit Company Commander or Petty Officer and, amen, boy howdy, are they. Will the old school physical fitness tip of: “(hoarse bass screaming) DROP AND GIVE ME 50 YOU WORTHLESS LEAKING BUCKET OF SHAMU CHUM CRIPES I HATE YOU AND THE STREET-WALKING LADY OF THE EVENING WHO BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD!!!!” be replaced by a more politically correct: “Ohhh, there-there. Not to worry. We’ll just jot that down as a, ‘ONE.’ You just lay there and nap.” 

Kids and sailors these days. They’ve got it easy. 

Hm. I wonder. Just exactly what are these new physical fitness requirements that even road kill possum could pass? 

Just guessing, but at the top of the new P.E. list would be N.E.S.A.s. That stands for: Naval Emotional Support Animals. You know. Little affectionate teacup miniature poodles to help make the transition to Navy Life more palatable as our seagoing transcripts jog their laps around aircraft carrier flight decks? Downside, of course, is that the sailors will need a place to keep their NESAs, which would require a complete redesign of naval uniforms to include an N.E.S.P.S.P. (Naval Emotional Support Pet Shirt Pocket). There’s another $10 billion at which taxpayers can wave adios. Double that for N.E.S.P.F. (Naval Emotional Support Pet Food). 

It’s not like I’ve never been accused of using a laser pointer to toy with reductio ad absurdum, but with this welcoming of the trans community and Democrats into the Navy, does that mean that in the Left’s 4th Commandment (Thou Shalt Level The Playing Field), ALL sailors will have to wear women’s cork platform shoes? On the bright side, we’d have the tallest Navy in the world.  

I got another problem. If a lady-born sailor now identifies as a male, what does that do to the U.S. Navy footwear business? Perhaps all sailors can wear one (1) women’s shoe and one (1) men’s shoe. “Hut. Hut. Hut. To the Left. To the Left. Limp. Limp. Limp…” Cripes. What happens when they call out an, “ABOUT — Face!!” The mind boggles at the dystopia. 

Under these lessened standards, perhaps the Navy S.E.A.L.s will closet all those passé Navy P&D (Puke & Die) requirements and replace them with N.P.Z.C.’s (Navy Partial Zumba Classes). At the beach, our commandos sit in camp chairs. With minimalist head bob and weave, the S.E.A.L.s listen to Barry Manilow sing, “At the Copa… Copacabana…” Then, taking a puff from their dainty cigarillos, tiredly rise and go get some punch.  

Under the Too Fat To Fail physical fitness Navy guidelines, a sit-up will now be referred to as a, “…just sit.” 

“Pretty please.” 

“With seaweed on top.” 

I’m wondering if perhaps the United States Navy will even get rid of the word, “Physical” in describing calisthenics. After all. To some, just the word, “Physical,” can be construed as inciting violence. Ding-ding-ding. Hit the cash register. Another taxpayer-funded $10 billion to remove the word, “Physical Fitness” from Navy training manuals and replace it with the less-triggering, “Fizzy Fitness.” 

I like that word, “Fizzy.”  

It’s — happy.  

Like our Navy. 

Yo ho ho ho, it’s the Pirate’s Life for John Boston, the world’s most prolific humorist/satirist, who lives locally. Bookstore? Yup. He’s got one:

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