Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

I never knew FTV existed 'til I got to Asia. But every television set here has the FTV option no matter how remote the village --- even 10 miles from the Cambodian border, for christ's sake.

It's a channel of G-rated porn parading in front of you 24/7. When it's not lanky women in weird-ass Karl Lagerfeld costumes sashaying down runways, you watch giggly, skinny girls swilling champagne at motor yacht parties.

Makes me feel like a real jet-setter ... alone in my hotel room ...

Got me thinking about the term "yacht", and its perversion over the last 100 years. At this point, the word "yacht" is synonymous with a multi-thousand horsepower vessel that's taller than your house owned by a multi-billionaire, packed with models and Crystal bottles. But this wasn't always the case, and as sailors, we should take the term BACK.

"Yachtsman" and "yacht" are noble terms --- respectful titles --- denoting more than just minimal ability to push a throttle or get a sailing vessel moving forward. The length and price of such vessels or salaries of people on these boats is irrelevant.

Despite eight years of sailing I still wouldn't call myself a yachtsman. It's like calling oneself an artist or a poet: to do so is to call yourself an asshole.