Metro

The peak of stupidity

Call Jordan Romero “Balloon Boy II.”

At an age when most lads steal first kisses or perform in humiliating bar mitzvahs, Jordan exists to fulfill the dreams of his dear, old dad.

Jordan is 13, barely pubescent. The middle-schooler from Big Bear, Calif., admits he hasn’t reached the level of maturity required to know when it’s time to brush his teeth or take a shower. Shaving is in the distance.

Jordan is eight years from legally taking a drink. He can’t legally drive, smoke, get a tattoo or sign a contract stating that he alone is responsible for his grisly and untimely death. That one is up to his father.

But this stinky kid, with his dad, dad’s girlfriend and Twitter in tow, has trudged to the summit of the tallest peak on the planet, Mount Everest, where the air is so thin, it can cause potentially fatal mountain sickness, the terrain is punishing, and the temperatures are frigid enough to take fingers and toes. That is, if you don’t die.

Team Jordan realized its goal of making this little kid the youngest person, by far, to conquer Everest.

Not long ago, children had hobbies. Now, parents draw up businesses plans, sponsorship deals and media strategies. (The “Today” show loves Jordan!) And, as a backup, take out life-insurance policies.

Lest you think the youngster hasn’t the intelligence or cojones to formulate a coherent thought, listen to Dad.

“This was not my idea,” Paul Romero protested, too much, in an e-mail to The New York Times. “He’s provided the inspiration and motivation to keep it going.”

“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do before I die,” Jordan told Agence France-Presse. Strange wording from a child who hasn’t suffered measles, let alone a devastating head injury.

The old record for climbing Everest was held by Nepal native Temba Tsheri, who was a comparatively mature 16 when she made the trek in 2001. But Jordan is no stranger to big hills. He climbed Denali at 12, Aconcagua at 11 and Mount Kilimanjaro at 9. When I was 9, a daring feat was riding in a car without a seat belt.

Jordan has exceeded the cheap goal plotted for the child known as Balloon Boy, whose father tried to win fame and fortune by fooling the populace into believing his 6-year-old son, Falcon, was whisked into the atmosphere by a hot-air balloon. At least Jordan is no bystander to his exploitation, but avidly on board with plans to turn him into a circus animal. At least until he writes the inevitable memoir.

Everyone is worried. Except his dad.

“The most decent statement about extreme-altitude climbing for a 13-year-old would be we just don’t know what to expect,” Dr. Mikhail Kazachkov, of Maimonides Infants and Children’s Hospital of Brooklyn, told the Times.

Team Jordan took the hardest, and least-used route, approaching Everest from Tibet rather than Nepal, because Tibet has no age minimum. Nepal requires climbers to be 16.

Some fear his record will destroy climbing. “The only thing that attracts more flies than a mountaineering tragedy is a failure in parenting,” wrote Drew Simmons in The Adventure Life, an online magazine.

Shades of Tiger Woods’ dad sticking him on the golf course at age 3.

Shades of JonBenet Ramsey prancing like a grown woman before age 6.

Next up for Jordan is an assault on the Vinson Massif in Antarctica, which will make him the youngest to have topped the highest peaks on all seven continents. What will be left for him? Airing the family’s dirty laundry on “Dr. Phil”?

Parents, get your own lives. Let kids be kids.

A Madonna come-lately

It took six months. Madonna, who grew fabulously wealthy as an icon to homosexuals, has finally spoken out against her pet country, Malawi, and its decision to imprison two gay men for committing “unnatural acts.”

“Malawi took a giant step backward,” read the pop star’s statement. “The world is filled with pain and suffering; therefore, we must support our basic human right to love and be loved.”

Steven Monjeza and Tiwonge Chimalanga were thrown in a Malawi prison in December, and last week they were sentenced to 14 years. Madge’s delayed outrage makes one wonder — were her loyalties torn?

Malawi, a dirt-poor African nation, flouted its own laws prohibiting adoption by foreigners in order to hand Madonna two precious, healthy children. She was not so slow or careful with her words when she unloaded on Sen. John McCain during the 2008 presidential campaign, idiotically comparing him to Adolf Hitler and Robert Mugabe.

Hypocrite.

Kid’s tat ink isn’t worth mom’s stink

Jason Couillard is 18. Last August, when he was merely 17, Jason traveled with pals to Greenwich Village and did something many a rebellious lad has done since the invention of ink: He got a tattoo.

Actually, two — the words “carpe” and “diem” (seize the day) on the insides of his arms. His mother freaked.

Mary Couillard, of Rockaway Park, Queens, sued Village Pop Tattoo and Body Piercing and an artist, Julie, for maiming a boy shy of New York’s legal inking age, 18. Village Pop’s owner, Ahmad Ifti, suggested the boy used a phony ID, which Couillard’s lawyer denies.

Jason now regrets the tattoos, and fears they might hurt his chances of serving as a cop or in the military.

Village Pop is wrong if it tattooed a minor. But kids don’t magically grow up in four or five months. I’ll bet Jason would get the same tats today. And his mom couldn’t do anything about it. Except yell.


SPOUSES GET AFFAIR SHAKE

Elin Nordegren walked. Sandra Bullock sprinted. Regina Letterman stayed.

Flee a marriage after a spouse cheats? That’s a question eating at many a cheated-on New Yorker. So Brooklyn native Carolyn Faith, an “affair survivor,” is bringing to this city a worldwide network for betrayed people, where men and women can gather to decide if they’re doormats or saints. Find a support group on the Web site beyondaffairs.com.

“My husband had an affair that started 2½ years ago,” said Faith, 48. The mistress was “classic” — a former student 20 years his junior. Faith had no place to go for help except oprah.com.

Finally, she realized the affair wasn’t her fault: “I could have been Miss America, it would have happened.”

Maddeningly, marital victims refer to themselves in terms that sound as if they need help — such as people in “affair recovery.”

I vote for bolting, but that’s me.

Hey, it’s better than touristcide

What a brilliant idea!

Along lower Fifth Avenue, some joker painted a lane on the sidewalk marked, “Tourists.” Another reads, “New Yorkers.”

This system enables slow-moving out-of-towners to walk three abreast and halt abruptly to gaze at unsightly floral skirts gunking up shop windows — and to do so without fear of being run over by harried city dwellers.

Tourists also can easily stop and stare at the top of the Empire State Building. I myself haven’t seen anything above the third floor in
decades.

Why not expand this to the entire city?
Gotta love tourists — just not in my face.