CRIMEA RIVER

Sarah Palin saw it coming (from her front yard in Alaska). Pussy Riot warned us. While our drones are blowing apart Grandmas teaching their grandkids in their Pakistan gardens, the mighty Bear has shown his teeth again. Less than a week after a bunch of protesters wearing pots for helmets, wielding old double barrel shotguns, drove out a corrupt government, Putin struck at the heart of Ukraine. The jewel of the Russian empire, the Crimea, was invaded over the weekend by masked, non-insignia wearing Russian troops. Would Kiev be next? Duck and cover kids. Here comes the Cold War- again.
 
    Last week, after a big dinner at the Indian Casino, Diamond Dave, Pigpen and I retired to the cigar lounge for a smoke and coffee, letting our rich food digest. Occupying three of the dark, overstuffed, leather chairs was a middle aged white couple and a tall man in uniform. I say uniform, but it was more like a flight suit. Had this guy landed his F-15 in the parking lot? Introductions followed and before you could say Jihad the Col. was telling a bad joke about a Cuban outside of the gates of Guantanamo, waving his big cigar in a cloud of smoke. DD had been to Guantanamo to sell jewelry and had never even seen a Cuban. I love Cuba and had been there twice. I tried to keep my mouth shut.....without much luck. Con-yo.....asshole.
     The conversation turned from Cuba to the Middle East. Among the three of us, only Pigpen had served in the military. He had once spray painted his Israeli barracks with a stencil that screamed FREE ASHER. So he wasn't exactly a poster child for the JDL. But when it comes to Arabs and Jews there wasn't much grey area in the room's conversation. The Col. was impressed. I usually get along with men and women in uniform. But this guy was a generalizing blowhard. All Arabs were blood sucking terrorists and all Cubans were jokes. The middle aged wife left as Pigpen did that tongue trilling thing, and ordered another drink. DD, the consummate diplomat, placated everyone. If I had a flag I would've burned it. Thankfully we were all too bloated by the heavy food, drink and smoke to get out of our plush overstuffed furniture to duke it out. If there had been an Indian anywhere in that casino the Col. would've tried to justify Wounded Knee to him. "It was for your own good chief. Look how rich you are now.  Things turned out pretty well, didn't they? Hit me again. 21! USA. USA."