Russian Roulette Dubai Style

As we sat down to eat, Dad slapped the folded newspaper hard against the table causing the carefully placed knives, forks and spoons to jump. His chortle cut through the chatter produced when a passel of kids and adults get together for a hearty meal. "This is rich."

Silence followed as we all eyed that well-thumbed journal which was refolded in the semblance of its original shape. Then, young Jeb piped, "What's rich, Dad?"

Simultaneously, Uncle Payton, a fastidious person, who prides himself on his impeccably spotless appearance, his knowledge of sports and not much else, muttered, "Good grief, not more politics."

Dad unfolded the paper and jabbed a knarled index finger at a front page headline. "Can you believe this guy!"

"What guy, Dad?" Jeremy, a teenager, would prefer to discuss the latest Olympic scores with Payton, but curiosity overcame his reluctance to get involved in a heated family discussion.

As Dad spread the paper out on the table, it covered salad dishes, plates and serving bowls. One corner dipped into the soup turreen. Became soggy with chickenless broth.

"Bush," Dad's voice pulsed with raw emotion. "For six years the fellow has subtly and not so subtly turned us against the Arabs. For six years, he's implied that the Iranians, Saudi Arabians, Palestinians and Iraqis, who are all Arabs, are terrorists. Suddenly, he's changed his mind? Look at this."

The sighs around the table were audible as we slumped in our seats and prepared to listen. Dad, an intelligent thinker, stutters inelegantly when he tries to read passages of text.

"Listen to this." Dad, in a near state of apoplexy, read the article aloud, quoting Bush's remarks. " I am trying to conduct foreign policy now by saying to the people of the world, 'We'll treat you fairly.' "

Cousin Julie laughed. "As if they're going to believe him after he bombs an innocent nation, turning it into a country of blood, gore and chaos. Typical Bush spin."

Uncle John splashed a dollop of wine into his water glass and thoughtfully sipped it. " That's chutzpah. Now, he wants to conduct foreign policy?"

Young Jeb toyed with his napkin. "What's Bush talking about, Dad?"

"He's trying to justify the takeover of six of our nations ports by Dubai Port World which is a company controlled by the government of the United Arab Emirates."

Uncle Joey, ready to stuff a biscuit in his mouth, waved it in the air instead. Crumbs flew off its edge landing in Uncle Payton's lap. "We ship our military equipment overseas from these ports. If the new managers, namely the Arab Dubai company, closed the ports in a fit of pique, it'd totally shut us down. And if we were under attack at the time, we'd be crippled and vulnerable as hell."

Dad clamored for attention. "Listen here. Bush says: "After careful review, I believe the transaction ought to go forward. I want those who are questioning it to step up and explain why all of a sudden a Middle Eastern company is held to a different standard than a Great British company."

My older sister, Jesse, always quick to catch the linguistic mistakes of others, said sarcastically, "The British may be great, but isn't he referring to Great Britain?"

"That's not the point," Jeremy interrupted. "Bush is mothballing his true intent."

Aunt Judith, whose dentures rested in a glass of water near her plate, gummed mashed potatoes and when she spoke her thick tongue slurred the sound as if she'd tipped a pint. Some potato flecks spattered Uncle Payton's sleeve as she spoke. "The man's daft, Jesse. Fifty-two percent of Americans believe Bush's hype about Arab terrorists and now, he tries to spin the Arabs off — as responsible Middle Eastern companies? There's a frog in the pickle jar."

Uncle Joey smacked biscuit crumbs from his hands. "More like a toad amongst the pickles, Judith. Quite ironic, too, since the 9/11 hijackers came from the United Arab Emirate, used its major banks to ship money to terrorist organizations world wide, not to mention that the UAE was a transfer point for shipments of smuggled nuclear components sent to Iran, North Korea and Libya."

Little Jeb piped up. "So, these United Arab Emirates aren't so respectable?"

Dad rattled the newspaper, totally oblivious that the soggy corner was spraying Uncle Payton's shirt with soup droplets. "Listen here. Bush's own party leaders are breaking with him on this one. Senate Republican Leader, Bill Frist, is calling for a halt to the Dubai contract."

"Hear. Hear." Aunt Judith tapped her fork against the water glass containing her dentures. Every eye watched as those teeth floated upwards, paused for a moment, then lazily descended once more to the bottom. Aunt Judith had our rapt attention. Yet clearly, she had forgotten what she planned to say, so Mom smoothly noodled her way into the discussion. "Right on. It's not just Democrats like New Jersey's Senator Menandez and New York's Senator Clinton who object to this short-sighted fiasco, but prominent Republicans as well."

Dad's next comment was textured with disgust. "If the senators try to block the Dubai contract by passing a law to stop it, it says here, that Bush swears he will veto it. Bush says, " They ought to listen to what I have to say about this."

Cousin Julie laughed. "Like we listened to him when Bush told us Iraq was brimfull of WMD's?"

We'd be rehashing the day's news still, except for no reason at all, the banana I was peeling suddenly slipped out of its skin, and like a football heading for the endzone, torpedoed through the air.

As Uncle Payton dodged the speeding missile, it musta reminded him that he was missing the Olympic's coverage on NBC. It was when he folded his napkin and stood, that we all noticed Uncle Payton's faultless appearance was slightly smirched. There were crumbs clinging to his slacks, mash potato spackles pasted on his sleeves, and soup stains speckling his shirt front. He tried futilely to brush them off.

Then, with a vapidness only the disdainful can achieve, he said, "I'll leave you folks to your Bush bashing. Even if you're right about the Arab takeover, there'll still be sports. And what could be more important than the Olympics?"
Russian Roulette Dubai Style © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan