Elián!
by James Norton

We've all heard the tragic tale of Elián González — the poor Cuban boy who lies stranded in middle of the last great feud of the cold war. We've heard about how his US relatives have tried to sway him to the cause of freedom with tactics ranging from love to gifts to scary stories about Cuba. And we've seen his Cuban grandmothers come to America, on a poignant (though perhaps scripted) journey to see their grandson.

Great stuff. Terrific political theater. But someone's gotten lost in the shuffle. And that's Elián, a very real little boy who doesn't know what country to call home — and there are very few realistic, thoughtful plans to figure out how to get him there.

Until now.

Plan A: King Solomon

We all should have seen this solution coming from several miles away. It's a simple procedure, and it's based on the most important (but oft overlooked aspect of the Elián) problem: love.

To whit: How can we ascertain which nation really loves Elián more? Easy.

King Solomon for hire.

First, we grab a representative of Cuba's government. Fidel or Raul Castro will work out fine. Then, we bring in the group of people who best represent the powers that govern America: lobbyists. Ten to fifteen will probably be fine, as long as the group's inclusive, and we get a good representative spread of America's many fine industrial concerns.

Secondly, we grab a good King Solomon type-person to don a robe and preside over the event. Sean Connery would be ideal for this, but, in a pinch, someone like Robert Urich would probably be fine.

And who can forget Hawk?

Finally, we hand the King Solomon surrogate a chainsaw, have him fire that puppy up, and let him bring it ever closer to lovable Elián's ever-so-not-chainsaw-proof body.

At some point, someone will probably yell "Don't do it! We give up! He really belongs with his father in Cuba/his grand-uncles in Miami!"

Whichever country yells this loves Elián more.

If neither country prevents Elián from being sliced in half by a chainsaw, neither country really deserves him.

Plan B: The Stockholm Syndrome

America. Cuba. Land of the free. Land of Fidel. It's pretty clear these nations still have a lot of baggage they need to free themselves of before they can really represent themselves as unbiased parent states to a lost little boy who clearly (and with good reason) seems to have no real understanding of the enormous geopolitical brouhaha he has become embroiled in.

A better solution: immediately send Elián to a neutral third nation, and have him sit there until he's 18 and can rightfully make up his mind.

Sweden's perfect for this, although countries like Switzerland, Finland and Uzbekistan would all probably be just fine.

Elián should be encouraged to learn a new language in his new, neutral home, and to appreciate its different culture.

Plan C: Chess

As educated people, we all know about that one scene in that European film where the guy sits on the rock and plays chess against Death incarnate. It's extremely powerful, and symbolizes the feeling that no matter how smart we are, it's still hard to play chess — and win — if your opponent is a terrifying supernatural being.

Keeping that in mind, there's no reason why we can't have the mascot of America play chess against the mascot of Cuba, with Elián's soul going as the prize for the winner.

Mickey Mouse, naturally, would champion Team America. And backing him up would be a Warner Brothers character, as well — probably Bugs Bunny. And while Pikachu of the Pokemon people is obviously not 100% American-made, he's close enough, and would bring in a lot of younger fans. Pokemon are also known for their ability to execute flexible and blindingly accurate Scotch Gambits.

Of course, everyone knows that Cuba doesn't actually have any real mascots to speak of. Luckily, America is the world's most generous nation, and has mascots to spare. And Cuba, as the world's most tobacco-proficient nation, has plenty of cigars to spare. So some sort of mascot-for-cigar swap could be arranged.

Team Cuba would be composed of He-Man, Huckleberry Hound and Martin Short.

All that's left is a rip-roarin' country/rock intro, to be sung as White slides its first pawn from E2 to E4:

Are you ready for some chess(ball)?!

There you have it, then:

One problem.

Three solutions.

America and Cuba: the answers are plain. Quit complaining and get proactive.

E-mail James Norton at jrnorton@flakmag.com.