9/7/2010
Hot shoe, burnin’ down the avenue
Model citizen, zero discipline
Van Halen, Panama (1984)
Dear Manuel,
It’s anyone’s guess what must be going through your mind these days. After two decades as a common convicted felon in an American prison, I still wonder if you curse David Lee Roth’s name. I don’t want to make light of your prison sentence, because there’s nothing light about hard time, but some part of me thinks I’d prefer it to the endless barrage of Van Halen you endured while in the undoubtedly lively company of the boys at the Vatican mission back in ’89.
Oh, to be back in the eighties, eh, Manny? Back on the CIA payroll; back when money laundering was a bagatelle if it led to a greater cause. You must wonder where all this gravitas came from. Back when your buddy Pablo Escobar and the Medellin cartel were running things, Panama was practically the Switzerland of Central America, right? Do you still think of Pablo?
I do.
Especially with little Juan Pablo (Seb) (he’s so grown up now!) saying his father would be seen as “a kid in a diaper” compared to the narcotraficantes these days.
Where did it all go wrong?
Manny, at 76 years-old, you’re no spring chicken. And as you prepare to serve your seven year sentence in France for money laundering, I’m still waiting for Candid Camera our Ashton Kutcher to break the tension so we can all have a few secos and a good laugh back at one or all three of your luxurious Paris apartments. You always did know how to choose an arrondisement…
I mean, c’mon, the joke’s gotta be over—right? It was funny, but it’s been a while. And c’mon...Efraín carried out genocide in Guatemala and his daughter got to marry a Republican. This obviously had to be some sort of misunderstanding, right? I’m beginning to wonder if the French are more stubborn than the Americans!
I should mention that I loved it when you told the court how you financed your French investments with “family and personal business”, duty-free stores at the Panama airport, and money given to you by the CIA. It was a simple import-export thing, right? People just don’t understand business anymore.
And as you said, “I’m a military man and a politician, not a banker.”
Fair enough, Manny. Me too. Well, actually, I’m none of the three—but I empathize.
With CDOs and the never-ending deluge of financial derivatives that emerged in your time behind bars, nobody even pretends to understand how the financial markets work anymore. I barely even know what a bank is.
It’d be nice to go back to the halcyon days when Colombian men paid you handsomely to store their money for them. These days the Mexicans are in control and they’re a lot less predictable. Just ask their politicians (or read my post from last week—if they’re giving you internet access).
I’ve been worried about your health. A stroke? Heart problems? French health care is supposedly the best in the world. I’m confident they’ll take good care of you. But what worries me is your psychological health. Can you still hear David Lee Roth yelling, “Panama!”? Did anyone ever tell you the song is about a car?
We all grow old, and age is rarely kind to our bodies, Manuel. But nobody deserves to fall asleep to Van Halen. So if any French guard so much as thinks of subjecting you to “Panama”—well, zut alors, Amnesty International and I will be there prontito, señor.
Tu amigo canadiense,
BJ
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