[Tony]

Dubai…

It’s a short drive up from Abu Dhabi, a larger city, with a growing new business district on the south side of the city proper. All of the hotels we’ve stayed at have been quite nice, and this one was no exception. But we went to visit a 7-star resort hotel one evening, the Burj Al Arab, an architectural wonder. Check out these pictures from their website. We had to buy about $40 worth of merchandise vouchers in order to get in, but man, what a sight.

Nightlife in the UAE, as I mentioned in the last post is mostly designed for tourists and expatriates. You won’t find many (hardly any) citizens in the pubs, clubs, bars, etc., but they’re certainly making the money off them. Everything that I saw was very glitzy, very noisy, and in some cases, a little sleazy.

Victor thought it would be fun to take Larry & me to the Cyclone, a club that he likes to visit when he’s in town. It was the first place we went to that had a cover charge, about $10. As we’re walking in, there’s a lady at the door wearing a satchel, handing everyone 2 packs of cigarettes. Hmmm.

The inside of Cyclone reminded me of the average college town bar/club: Dark, noisy, disco lights, pool tables, dance floor. We head to the bar and ordered. As we’re standing there, Victor is inexplicably grinning. He knows what’s about to happen, and I guess finds it entertaining. As we stand and sip and chat, we notice dozens of young ladies walking around the bar. And occasionally, one would stop and stand next to one of the men, maybe strike up a conversation, then casually go back and walk around the bar some more.

One of them, a very pretty Asian girl, stood between Victor and me. She made eye contact and smiled, and said hi. I said hi back. She then leaned in and said into my ear, “You looking for a lady tonight?”

She was a hooker. They were all hookers. Victor had brought us to a hooker bar.

We had seen prostitutes in Abu Dhabi. Or rather, I should say that they saw Larry. Larry stands about 6’3”, has reddish blonde hair shooting out the top of his head, and a boyish look that says, “I’m a young American goofball – come take my money.” Victor & I were virtually ignored, while the courtesans flocked to Larryoke.

And we saw a couple of them in the hotel in Dubai, in the lobby or the pub. Prostitution is illegal in the UAE, but it is generally overlooked by the authorities. And we only saw expats, no citizen women would dare attempt it.

At the Cyclone, no less than 27 (we counted) approached Larry. I started calling him the "Dubai Daddy" (although "Abu Dhabi Daddy" is a lot funnier to say - try it). And the funny thing is, he liked it, said it made him feel desirous. I tried to tell him that it made him gullible, but he would have nothing of it. So after what seemed like eternity, but was perhaps only 2 hours, Larry finally relented to my plea of “let’s get the heck out of here!”

And so we ended up closing down a Japanese karaoke bar instead. I hated the karaoke, but this place had the coolest, most modern bathroom I had ever seen. I went twice just for the fun of it.

As it turns out, everybody was getting in one last night of fun in before all the clubs would be closed for the next month. Ramadan would start the next day. Ramadan is a month-long Islamic observance of prayer, fasting, family and feasting. I guess the closest thing would be the Jewish Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kipper. Here’s how it works: for one month, Muslims do not eat or drink during daylight hours. Special prayers are spoken. Then after sunset, families gather for meals with traditional dishes, sweets, teas, shisha. They stay up very late, gorging themselves, then sleep as late as they can. They go to work late (most Muslim-run businesses hardly operate during this time), work a few hours, then go home and get ready for the next night.

My first thought about it was, am I going to get to eat during the day? It turns out that the hotel restaurant does in fact serve during the day, but they draw a heavy curtain all around perimeter so as not to offend any Muslims who might be in the vicinity. I was okay with that. Even the pub was open in the evening. So while we were there for the first 2 days of Ramadan, we were not inconvenienced.

And then it was time to fly home, another 22 hours in flight and/or airports.

It was perhaps a once in a lifetime experience. I’m only sorry that my wife couldn’t have seen it with me. I know I’ve left stuff out: Chop Chop Square, the shopping souq in Dubai. Maybe I’ll have to do a miscellaneous post on that stuff. I mostly wanted to get it in writing though, before the memory fades too much.

[Tony]

Miscellaneous stuff from the middle east log…

The souq where we went shopping in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia is right next to a public square area. On one side of it is a mosque, on the other an old fort that is now a museum, and in middle is a clock tower giving the area its name: Clock Tower Square.

When I was there I saw children playing soccer in the square, and a small merry-go-round type ride for them as well. So this is a place for families to go, shop, play, have fun together.

But it also has another name: Chop Chop Square (Do a Google search on “Chop Chop Square” and you'll find lots of references verifying my description). On Fridays, after the mid-day prayer, folks gather in the square to watch justice meted out to criminals. “Chop Chop” refers to the method by which the said justice is dispensed. A thief could lose a hand or an arm. Rapists & drug traffickers lose their heads.

Non-citizens are not welcome to this, but there are documented cases. Human rights groups track how many executions take place there. There’s a rather famous, if gruesome, story of a relative of the royal family being charged with raping and murdering a young girl from another branch of the family. His trial was swift, the prosecutor presented the evidence, but the defendant was not allowed to present his case. He was found guilty and sentenced to death.

As an act of “kindness,” the victims of Chop Chop Square are usually drugged up and blindfolded beforehand. But in this case, the family of the girl made sure that the accused would have neither of those. So, sober and unmasked, he faced his executioner, who does the deed with a large sword (scimitar). The act is usually swift, but again, the family arranged for the executioner to “check his swing” at the last moment, thereby not making a clean cut. The man must have suffered terribly before a second strike finished him off. The head was mounted on a spear for all to see – another unusual practice, as the norm is simply to quickly dispose of the remains.

And so, here I am at the square again, watching the children play, and thinking of the carnage that takes place several times a year in this very spot. It made me shiver.

[Tony]

If Parkway can do it, so can I.

Here's a pic of my boy at our family reunion a couple of weeks ago.

[Laura]

He is adorable! How old?

[Tony]

He's 20 months.

[Tony]

Richard was this kid in my Sunday School class who was difficult to love, yet I found myself with him quite a bit, as our parents were good friends. He was hyper active, disruptive, and as a result got into a lot of fights and spent plenty of time in the principal’s office at school. Little and uncoordinated, he got picked on a lot, too.

But he was part of our church group, and so we included him in everything, and over time came to love and accept him. He also grew up some, maturing in his faith. Eventually he was dubbed “Richie B” by a couple of guys in the group, and the name stuck, never again to be called Richard by us.

Our church participated in youth basketball and softball leagues. Richie B never missed. I remember one softball game where he hit an unexpected, key single that helped us to win the game. We carried him off the field, declaring him star of the game.

At high school graduation time, he enlisted in the army, surprising all of us. It was during this time that he discovered alcohol, a substance that would plague him later. But he served well until a hearing loss led to an honorable medical discharge.

As Richie B faced turning 30, he fumbled around a bit trying to find a job he liked, but finally found work with a trucking company across the state, and began to thrive on his own. He joined a church in his new city, where he met a girl. Life was looking good.

Several things happened in a short period of time, however. His company laid him off, and when he couldn’t find another job immediately, he moved back home for awhile. His girlfriend didn’t want a long distance relationship and decided to break from him. His dad lost his job and his mother had a bout with cancer. When Richie B found work, he was soon the only bread winner among the three of them.

His drinking escalated. Depression set in, though the signs weren’t recognized by those around him.

Mutual friends say that he stopped by their house one evening, enjoyed a pleasant visit, then went home to his parents. A couple of days later, he attempted suicide by overdose. The VA hospital treated him for a few days, but after he recovered physically, they released him. One night shortly after, while his parents were asleep, he tucked his service revolver under a pillow next to his heart and shot himself to death.

Because there was no damage to his face, the casket was open at his funeral, which surprised me. Except for a goatee, he looked like the kid who hit the clutch single in that softball game years before. But the ones carrying him this day were pall bearers.

A lot of the old church youth group was there, needed to be there. We needed answers. We needed some comfort. The pastor stood to preach. He spoke of sickness and disease. “When we can see the illness, we understand when it sometimes takes it’s toll on life. We can’t really see mental illness, but sometimes the effect is just as destructive.” We needed to hear that.

Then he spoke of Jesus on the cross, saying “Father forgive them, they don’t even know what they’re doing,” and of the Holy Spirit who intercedes on our behalf in sometimes unspeakable groans. “And I believe,” he said, “that a few nights ago, the Holy Spirit interceded, saying, Father forgive Richard, he doesn’t even know what he’s doing right now.”

I felt the pressure in the funeral parlor lift a little, and comforting tears formed again in my eyes as all of us collectively sighed.

Occasionally the question gets asked: can a Christian commit suicide and still go to heaven? And I answer yes, he can.

Again, like other blog entries, I’m not sure why I’m sharing this story here. Maybe I needed to remember and work through some of the emotions again. Maybe the words need to be read by someone else. I honestly don’t know.

[Tony]

I decided not to waste it.

Exodus 21:5 But if the slave plainly says, ‘I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free,’ 6 then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall be his slave forever.

[Tony]

I am not, I repeat, NOT 40 today. I’m 39.

Sheesh!

I remember back in 5th grade, trying to calculate how old I would be in the year 2000, and I just couldn’t imagine myself being in my 30s. Lordy, could I possibly get to be that old?

It may have been the first time I really came to grips with the fact that adults were once young children, and that children grow up to be adults, and eventually, senior citizens. But it was still incredible to believe that the process would actually affect me, that I would ever be older than, say, 20 or so.

Now, what seems like a lifetime later, I’m facing 40. I’m not taking this very well…

But I have decided that when I’m 50, I’m going to celebrate by getting an ear pierced, and growing a ponytail.

[psalm63adam]

Originally Posted by tonyh

If Parkway can do it, so can I.

Here's a pic of my boy at our family reunion a couple of weeks ago.

How cute! Was your family reunion far away?

[psalm63adam]

Originally Posted by tonyh

I am not, I repeat, NOT 40 today. I’m 39.

Sheesh!

I remember back in 5th grade, trying to calculate how old I would be in the year 2000, and I just couldn’t imagine myself being in my 30s. Lordy, could I possibly get to be that old?

It may have been the first time I really came to grips with the fact that adults were once young children, and that children grow up to be adults, and eventually, senior citizens. But it was still incredible to believe that the process would actually affect me, that I would ever be older than, say, 20 or so.

Now, what seems like a lifetime later, I’m facing 40. I’m not taking this very well…

But I have decided that when I’m 50, I’m going to celebrate by getting an ear pierced, and growing a ponytail.

Happy belated birthday! One of my bassists turned 39 yesterday and is going through the whole midlife crisis thing - bought a new jeep and is cranky about everything. I don't know if that happens with everyone, but...

[Tony]

Originally Posted by Scum.™

How cute! Was your family reunion far away?

Paragould, Arkansas is about 4 hours south of St. Louis. Quite pretty, actually, especially in the fall. My mother in-law's family is from there.

[psalm63adam]

Okay, here's a strange question:

Do they still serve the Arch Deluxe at the McDonald's by the Arch? Just wondering because that was the only place that still served that burger several years ago when I went to the Arch.

[Tony]

Originally Posted by Scum.™

Okay, here's a strange question:

Do they still serve the Arch Deluxe at the McDonald's by the Arch? Just wondering because that was the only place that still served that burger several years ago when I went to the Arch.

It's a sad ending to your question, my friend. They closed the McDonalds by the Arch.

But hey, if you're ever in St. Louis again, I'll make sure you get a great burger.

[psalm63adam]

A truly sad day, to find that out.

Another strange food question: do you like that (in my opinion) nasty St. Louis style pizza from Zeezo's or Zeno's or Zito's or something like that? I had some friends in Colorado who were from St. Louis and they raved about it, so when I was out there I had some. Bleccccch!

[Tony]

Originally Posted by Scum.™

A truly sad day, to find that out.

Another strange food question: do you like that (in my opinion) nasty St. Louis style pizza from Zeezo's or Zeno's or Zito's or something like that? I had some friends in Colorado who were from St. Louis and they raved about it, so when I was out there I had some. Bleccccch!

Imo's St. Louis style pizza. Thin crust. Provalone cheese. Yeah, it may be an acquired taste, and when I think "pizza" it's not my first choice. But every now & then, nothing else will hit the spot.

There are a couple of other places in town that do it well: Fortell's, Cecil Whitaker's come to mind. Okay, now I'm salivating...

So if you come to St. Louis, here's what we'll do: Fortell's for dinner. Then off to Ted Drew's frozen custard for a turtle sundae. Then, if you're still feeling the need to feed, there's Uncle Bill's Pancake House (24 hours, great Denver omelette).

Oh, or maybe out to the Central West End and the Loop for Gus's Pretzles & Fitz's Rootbeer...

Oh, or lunch at the Crown Candy diner, or a cheddar burger at Dooley's, or the grandaddy of grease bombs, O.T. Hodges for a Slinger (open-faced cheeseburger, fried egg on top, then covered with chilli -- the heartburn starts even before the first bite).

Heck, we're gonna need a 3-day weekend to cover it all.