Arab Picnic

(photo: Paulie olives up)

A good time was had by all at the annual family reunion -- affectionately called the Arab picnic -- as the Aziz-Rahaim clan convened in Plymouth for a family feast chock full of baba ghanoush and kibbie. Years ago, the reunion may have looked something like this. This year, there was no shortage of jokes that Homeland Security was staked out in the bushes to make sure we weren’t some terror cell on a jolly frolick. Caroline, (aka the Countess), looked around the beach, pointing at cousins: “One Ay-rab, two Ay-rabs, three Ay-rabs, four Ay-rabs...” Paulie has officially gone swarthy, his eyelashes have curled and thickened like his hair, his skin's olived-up nicely, leaving no trace of my Irish heritage.