Imagine the scene somewhere in Maine last night, former Ambassador to Venezuela Patrick Duddy is sitting there eating some clams, some nice yellow corn on the cob and a nice boiled lobster with drawn butter, wondering with his friends where he will be sent next.
As he serves some more of that nice Chalone Chardonnay from California, he is wondering whether he will get Argentina next. Sounds cool, may give him a chance to learn more about those nice Malbecs from Mendoza. Chile would be nice too, interesting politics going on there, good cultural life, country doing well. Colombia is not his top choice. Complicated country with Uribe not running again, the FARC and Chavez next door. After Caracas and Chavez, Duddy deserves a break. After he behaved so well, the ultimate diplomat till the end, Chavez ended up kicking him out on one of his temper tantrums.
It’s a nice Maine summer evening, sun setting late, water calm, a little chilly to be eating outside, but hell, it’s summer and the Red Sox are leading the Nationals in the background, pass the corn.
Phone rings. It’s DC, maybe Hillary decided where she wants to send me. Hello! He hears the words normalization, Chavez, Venezuela, Barack wants it, back to Caracas. Seems like a nightmare. Simply unreal. He tries to wake up, thinking this is a Stephen King novel, King actually lives down the street and he knows him, but not even good old Steve would send me back down to Caracas!
Hello! Hello! as Hillary tells him he did such a great job, dignity, professional, all of those nice words, coming from the lips of Bill’s wife’s mouth. There is no going back, I am going back! Have to put up with Maduro again, visit Chavez, listen to boring Ali, the long speeches, the traffic, start reading again the Devil, Daniel and Quico, what a nightmare!
Give me some more lobster and please, lots more of that nice white wine!
Well, I could eat a nice arepa again. Just trying to see the bright side.