Not Much Of Interest

My father-in-law-to-be arrived home from Saudi on Friday, and this is only the third time he’s been here since I fell head-over-heels-goofy-in-love with his only daughter.

Needless to say, I’ve been spending a lot of time over at the Davis Homestead, playing Get To Know You with Pop. It’s only fair, after all.

Anyway, there is a small political point to make along with all the pre-marital bliss. It’s just going to take me a little setting up to get to the politics, so keep reading.

Dick (Colonel Davis (Ret.) to you) spent the last nine years running a major Saudi Air Force base. I won’t go into much more detail, but it’s the only base in the southwest where they fly the F-15S. People in the know now know where and who I’m talking about.

While Dick was there, he made good friends and a fine scuba dive buddy with a certain Prince Khalid of the House of Saud. Technically, “Colin” was Dick’s boss (I think), but they had a lot of fun together.

But friendship only goes so far — Dick won’t be going back. He told us over dinner and drinks this weekend that he’s finished working for the Saudis. He didn’t go into any particulars, other than that he’d like to spend more time with his family, and maybe get a chance to learn what all his children look like now.

Dick and I had a conversation this evening, and the important bit went like this:

Me: I never mentioned this to Melissa or Paula (that’s Mrs. Colonel (Ret.) Davis), but I’m glad you’re not going back to Saudi. The more I read, the more convinced I am that the whole country could fall apart. And maybe soon.

Him: Yeah, I know. Even Colin says things are that bad.

There you have it. A Saudi prince, a semi-bigwig in their own Air Force, is not-so-metaphorically keeping his private jet fueled and ready for takeoff to Switzerland.

You read it here first, kids.

NOTE: Remember, it’s only journalism when committed by a journalist.

ANOTHER NOTE: You don’t pay me enough for to keep me from burying the lede, so deal with it.

THIRD AND FINAL NOTE: In less than 72 hours, I’ll be married to the woman beyond my dreams.

AW HELL JUST ONE MORE NOTE: James Lileks is not only a fine writer, he’s also one helluva guy. Thanks, Lileks.