Saturday night's alright for flighting

Sorry if this seems more like a series of unconnected thoughts -- it was written over a period of either 14 or 21 hours. I can't be sure.
-------------
I was planning on taking the 9 pm bus from Jerusalem to the airport but when I went online to check in I was informed that I could not, and would have to do so at the airport. I thought it was a phone thing but the same thing happened when I tried to check in from an actual computer. Now in the best of cases I am a neurotic freak, always worrying about being late or messing something up. I had started packing right when Shabbat was over and by 7.15 I was pacing the apartment and watching Maddie pack for the army. I wasn't bored, just crazy. When I got a message that I couldn't pre-check in my lunacy went into overdrive. I suggested that I take the 8 pm bus so if there was any problem, yo I'll solve it and I wouldn't wear a path into Maddie's apartment floor or stand over her being useless and annoying. She agreed and we had a tearful goodbye on a city street. The 8 pm bus left at 8.11 and tried to make up time by flying to the airport. We hurtled down mountains pushing small cars out of the way. It was harrowing. It made me actually prefer being on an airplane. It was that scary. We stopped at the security area and the nice men with the big guns had us get out and identify our bags. Then back onto the bus which was too big to get through the roundabouts, but that didn't stop the driver. Or slow him down.

I disembarked and entered the terminal to see many large groups blocking the lines (memories of Newark as the Birthright groups clogged everything up). I was directed to another line so I moved towards the first security hurdle. I was asked the standard questions (whom were you visiting, what's your daughter's address, why did you lend your nephew your scarf, did you really waste time eating at Burger Ranch...you know -- basic El Al security stuff) and thought I passed whatever test this was so I moved to the next line. At that line, the woman took my passport and asked me to wait. Begin nervous shuffling. Apparently, I had been chosen to get extra screening. How exciting -- not quite winning the lottery but it explained why I couldn't check in online. Over the internet, no one can walk away with your passport. She came back a few minutes later and confirmed my seat selection, almost like it was an accusation ("You are in an aisle seat?" Um, yes. "Row 27?" Yeah, 27C...is that a security issue?). That was pretty much it. I was a bit disappointed because I wanted a better story than that to tell. After this level of security I went to the next one. I recalled that you have to go through the side lines for more questions and only then back to the middle entrance but when I tried that I was told just to go through the middle. Seems that they have changed something somewhere. OK, whatever. Into the room where 2 lines become 20 lines and no one knows where to go. If you have every been in this room, you understand. People just sort of push through and split off to whatever line seems most vulnerable to being jumped.

Traffic was light so 2 lines only became 4. But when I got to the front I was pulled aside again. More extra screening. I was asked many questions about electronics and such and I answered everything honestly. I have very little to hide. Not nothing, you understand, but certainly, not a lot. I really wasn't wearing a belt (an intentional choice by me so that I can smooth out security, and free myself up to eat more, but the security people seem confused by the choice). The guy who dealt with pulled-aside people told me to put my foot up. I thought that the hokey pokey was an unnecessary escalation of security protocol, but he's the expert in the blazer. He then rubbed this magic electrical toothbrush thing all over my feet. Then all over my jackets and my bag and all the electronics and doo-dads that I had in my pockets. The wand went into a machine and eventually, the machine reassured him that I was harmless. Heck, I could have told him that. But I didn't mind. Not only did I leave a lot of extra time for just these possibilities, but I like being safe and respect the people who are doing the job of keeping me safe. So I say, triple screen me whenever, ask me whatever and make sure that everyone is as harmless as I am.

Passport control was uneventful (I didn't do the biometric because I feel it is hypocritical for me to rail against the metric system, and then exploit it at the airport) and then on to the food court! It is true: the airport has a food court and one of the stands sells pre-made sandwiches with kosher supervision. So I got a sandwich of tuna and egg and washed it down with a piece of Swidler fudge. I have time, I am relaxed and I have been swabbed.

At the gate I got a decaf espresso - there is a Camden Food stand which has supervised foods. I considered getting more to burn through the remaining Israeli cash but I chose not to because, honestly, the sandwiches just aren't that good. And I had more fudge and cookie to eat. And now we wait. I was there early (as is my wont) so the D7 area was lightly populated and quiet. Of course, as soon as I got up to throw out some garbage some woman took my seat. Seriously. There were hundreds of empty seats and she took mine.

The two gates on either side started loading at the exact same time to (one to JFK and the other to LA). The quiet corner of the airport turned into a chaotic center of activity as dueling announcements had people wandering all over. Instead of waiting for my group or aisle to be called, I just strolled up to the line and got on during the earliest stages. I was "that guy" and I don't care. Sure I would have to sit for a bit longer but I ensured myself overhead space and did not have to wait on line. 27c, aisle, and I'm not giving it up.

Flight notes -- 2 hours in: I took a benadryl and a chocolate chip cookie about an hour before take off but so far, no effect. Was that espresso not decaf? I wish I could sleep. Some people seem to have no problem contorting themselves and finding a position that allows them hours of uninterrupted sleep in these tiny and uncomfortable 787-9 seats. I just can't do it. The aisle is also narrower than other wide bodies so I keep getting jostled by everyone. Sometimes, I think, intentionally. I listened to a lot of Tom Petty, then some "ambient meditation" music and some classical music. I'm not sure how much I really slept and how much I just sat there, seething.

Fitful dozing. A jacket over my head and the least comfortable seats I can imagine. The guy next to me had to watch Vantage Point 3 times beginning to end before he stayed awake for all of it. I finally gave up and put on Monuments Men. A movie with a couple of bright spots and a whole lot of not so bright spots. Lights on and wet naps at 3:15am.

3.45 dry omelet for breakfast. I eschewed the tomatoes and olives, the roll and white cheese and the plain yogurt. I did get a cup of coffee, not just because I like coffee and have to be awake but because, as the flight nears a close, this is one if the last times that people will speak to me in Hebrew by default. My language skills are limited but there is something comforting about being spoken to in Hebrew. I will miss that as well.

We landed on time. Why do people knock El Al? No rude people, no delays. Fine food. Though the seats were uncomfortable, hundreds of albums to listen to, hundreds of movies and TV shows, amble food and drink, nice lighting. Though I'd love to be able to afford more spacious accommodations, the flight, from security to baggage claim, in each direction was fairly pleasant, assuming one can think of zooming at 480 knots 34,000 feet in the air "pleasant."

Random note- checking in neurotically early means my bag goes on first. It therefore seems to come of last which makes me worry that it is either lost or that I am in some sort of trouble. Whose comes off first? People who are late to things but they are also the last ones to come through passport control because they don't rush. Their bags go round and round before mine even shows up. So all my crazy planning and I still wait. So, Newark, passport control (I did rush through there because about 30 seconds after I got on line, 2 other flights streamed in and the lines grew to ridiculous lengths). Baggage claim, 2 more security stops and then, hey there Randy and thanks for the ride.

Home now. Papers to grade, laundry to do, doggoes to pet. It is nice to be here but I already miss Maddie, and Israel. Until next time, I will be praying for the arrival of the Moshiach so we can all be in Israel, Julie, Talia, my parents and everyone else, where we can speak Hebrew, visit the kotel and eat a whole mess of fried chicken. Signing off and thanks for listening.

Oh, hail? No!

Just a short post before Shabbat begins in Jerusalem. After a couple of false starts (a small child was missing so we spread out to find him...he had gotten on the elevator and ended up in the parking garage) we headed out towards the shuk to go shopping. The wind was still extremely gusty and there was intermittent rain, but neither a cab nor light rail made fiscal sense. I realized that, were I to be in the U.S. with weather like this, the need to shop would not be enough to drag me out. I have left the apartment more times during this trip than I intend to leave my house all next week. Something about Jerusalem makes me want to be out and about, walking everywhere. Weird. Anyway, off to the shuk, Once in there I started listing all the things I don't like about Jerusalem, or at least the shuk (maybe it is a defense mechanism so that I'm not so sad when I leave):

First, the shuk on a Friday is an absolute madhouse of a zoo. It isn't just shopping for the weekend -- it is tourists, it is people eating and drinking. And it is the families of 6 who brought 8 strollers and like to stop wherever and whenever so that a thousand people behind them have to stop. There is no space to "pull over" so if I want to buy vegetable, it will be tough for others to keep moving. This is a prime reason not to buy vegetables.

Second, even in stores, there is no room to move. If you walk into a little market hole in the wall, there is precious little space. Between whatever is being sold and displayed everywhere, the proprietor and three peanuts, the place is jammed. Students, soldiers and soccer moms all carrying backpacks that stretch out to everywhere and guns that are taller than most children block and knock everything.

Third, everything is loud. Partially that's because of the layout, but it is also because every restaurant wants to blast its music and everything echoes.

Fourth, there really only a few types of stores (meat/fish, bakery, cellular, souvenirs, fruits, spices/nuts, candy, groceries, vegetables, paper goods, home goods and bars/restaurant) but there are fifty of each. Some do something a little different (one has a juice machine, another sells popcorn) but there is a lot of duplication and it is easy to get lost.

Recently, they have upgraded the roof in the covered sections and it was welcome because, soon after we got in to the shuk and while we were saying Hello to the millions of people we all knew (between schools, hometowns, camps, army, the three of us knew a lot of people) the hail started and it was deafening, smack into (and occasionally through) the plastic roofing. Wind whipped, rain rained and suddenly it all stopped. The sun came out and people were lulled into a false sense of security. Then, just as suddenly, more hail. Bam!

Once laden with bags and stuff we considered food (I was not especially hungry and was fidgety, wanting to get back and begin cooking but the young people need their sustenance) so we ended up at a place called Bardak. This place is apparently a pizza place. I say "apparently" because when I envision pizza, I don't think of slivered almonds, Roquefort cheese or sweet potatoes and pesto. And that was just what was on the one the kids ordered. I demurred. Yes, I'm always hungry but if I am going to eat pizza, it is going to be pizza, not some weirdly named bizarre combination of goat cheese with eggplant and burning tires.

We continued our walk through the wind and rain and dropped things off at Elijah's apartment. I started slicing potatoes because that's just the kind of thing I do. Maddie worked on trimming the chicken and preparing the broccoli, and then Elijah set up the chicken to cook. Now it is time to wind down for Shabbat. Dinner at Nomi and David tonight, then lunch at Elijah's tomorrow.

And even though I prefer emptier spaces, quieter experiences and a simpler life, (and house living without having to turn the hot water heater on 20 minutes before I want to shower, and then off right after), this is still a really great place to be.

Mall Tease

Thursday morning was a lazy morning. Elijah had gone to Tel Aviv for some meeting so Maddie and I drifted aimlessly about the apartment. One rarely wanders aimfully these days. I felt sort of unanchored or uncentered; this is what happens when one confronts a day on which he doewsn't have to go to the tailor. We got up and dressed and I found my purpose -- it was MALL DAY!

Very exciting!

I know that that sounds strange. Generally, I hate the mall and everything it stands for -- people, overpriced junk and standing around while someone else tries on clothes. What self-respecting dad wants to go to the mall and watch his daughter shop for dresses? And though I could present myself as the greatest dad ever and say "I value every moment with the child and if she is happy then I want to share that happiness" or some blather like that, the truth is pretty simple:

Food court.

Again, I understand your confusion. Mall food is chain restaurants and not very good. I totally get that. But remember, in the U.S. it is forbidden. I go to the mall and watch all the people there sitting around eating stuff I can't have. The desirability quotient is through the roof. You could tell me "that guy is eating a spoiled monkey arm" and I'd say "At the mall? Me want!" The choices are pedestrian but the idea that I get to eat mall food is very enticing, so I look forward to the forbidden fruit that is the food court and am willing to put up with anything, and smile about it.

So we jump on the #6 bus from the convention center and get to the mall in 8 minutes. We take 10 more to try and get out of the parking garage and find an entrance. Once inside we descend upon H+M and I have visions of food court dancing in my head. She finds a really nice dress but there is no wifi and my data service is no good. But mall food, so I persevere. Next, to the fancy sell store, full of lotions and potions, sprays and scrubs that all smell like a beautiful and airy chemical factory. Next, 2 more dress stores and I'm that much closer to food. What is amazing to me is that in a country this small, there is still an unending supply of crappy music. No two stores play the same synth pop euro junk but somehow they all play music that sucks. The next dress store is a more religious one so they have a particularly spiritual breed of horrible music.

Mekimi, Yanga, Pull+Bear, we keep walking and these names give us a real sense of what each store has to offer. All have stocked up on a type of dress that is almost what we are looking for. Amazing. Then a stop at SuperPharm for some Paracetomol. Very exotic sounding. At the check out, they have a "three lines all waiting" so the people there entertain me by arguing over who is not going to go next. We toast to each other's bad back and smile. The next store, Simply Love, has "Don't Speak" playing and two dresses to try on. We end up 0 for 2 as neither looks as good on a human as on a hanger. Apparently the tag reads "one size fits someone else". Hangers have it so easy. Studio Pasha...feh. Goldbary? Golbust.

The bloom is now off the rose. I hate the mall. That food court had better serve some damned ambrosia. I want out. We made a stop at a book store so Maddie could stock up on reading material. When she is on base for Shabbat there isn't much for her to do but read since she doesn't use her phone and this is another instance where I am willing to indulge her financially when it effects compliance with religious law. I have yet to find the public library so, bookstore it is.

It ends up that there is no menu that includes ambrosia. The options really are limited. Meat or milk? If you want milk, the choices are bread and spreads or pizza. If you want meat, then burgers or chicken on a flat top or something premade and reheated. Maddie had the sushi. I really wanted fried chicken. Really. But no place has fried chicken. They have shnitzel, breaded and fried cutlets, but I wanted real fried chicken. I opted for the bucket o' fried stuff at Burger Ranch. I really thought it would be a bucket of yummy fried stuff. It ended up being a small bucket with a whole mess of fried potato wedges, 3 chicken stars (like the stuff you might feed a difficult child), 3 pieces of chicken wing and a few onion rings. I mean, for 8 bucks that isn't horrible but not what I was looking for as my mall food experience. I got a large pomegranate juice afterwards and that lifted my spirits.

A bus back to Maddie and a short nap because why not? Then to Elijah's to hang out with his friends and plan the evening. Six soldiers eating meat and hummus and comparing the comfort of various uniforms while discussing (with a relaxed attitude) the possibility of getting killed in the next week. Yikes.

Eventually, we decided on a shuk experience for a Thursday night. First stop, Hatch for an Oatmeal stout. Then Beer Bazaar where they found us a tale reserved for someone else (so we have to be quick) and we ordered some light fare: a large pretzel, the Biltung and the beef jerkey, for comparison's sake. Anything in the name of science. Maddie drank a hot cider, Elijah got the pale ale and I tried the "flight" -- 5 different cups of beer from light to dark. All for science, people. The Black Jack was great but the Birah Esser was over the top. The Bhindi IPA was my least favorite. Fortunately we ran into some former students so I gave it to them and threatened to fail them if they didn't drink it. The waiter brought us popcorn to finish our snack.

Next, Burger Bar (because I decided I was ready for actual food). The wind and rain had picked up so it was a little uncomfortable (this place is right near an entrance to the shuk so the elements creep in). I got a spicy double burger and stood there and ate it. Also onion rings which were mediocre. We looked at a couple more places and settled on My Buddy's Bar. I had a vodka collins and Elijah had a Long Island Iced tea. We got chicken strips to munch on and then the child and I shared vodka shots while we all played HQ and lost. A cab through the wind and rain, and back to the apartment. Overnight a huge storm rolled in with dangerous wind that sounded like thunder and thunder that felt like wind.

We arise on Friday morning with the plan to go to the shuk to shop for some food to cook for the Shabbat lunch at Elijah's apartment and I have started thinking about my return trip. I am feeling a little sad because I have really enjoyed this time with Maddie and with Israel. And pizza. I love pizza.

No phone, lights or motor car

To be cut off is both liberating an frightening. What if someone needs me? But no one really needs me. What if something happens? But nothing ever really happens. In Jerusalem (moreso than at home) the phone is both a technological necessity and an anachronism. But here I am, a man without a phone, relying on Maddie to communicate with the outside world. So she sends a message out to the fleet that I am off the grid but she can't account for work emails or the people I can't anticipate. This is why I prefer to remain unimportant.

I sit alone in the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf with a double espresso, considering the relative cost and/or worth of taking a cab back to the apartment to get my phone. It is really cold and raining -- really gross outside, so walking back, a 20+ minute investment each way is not a real option, and waiting in the raw weather for the light rail so I can pay to reduce the walk to 5 minutes also isn't attractive.

It suddenly got sunny and people don't seem to know enough to put their umbrellas away (though the wind takes care of some of those). I waited for Maddie to finish up with whatever errands she ran by having a second double espresso. No time like the morning for a bad decision -- why should the evenings have all the fun? I sit and watch Jerusalem and consider how it is simpler than Tel Aviv, organized in its own crazy way, simpler and more honest. Then I realize that I don't know what the hell I'm talking about and that coffee is some yummy stuff. Maddie shows up (as does Ari Goldberg who is 17 feet tall and likes shakshuka. Yuck). We also see three other former students while eating breakfast. Maddie got the ciabatta with cheese. Meh. The coffee is all I needed.

After the meal, and a trip to another sunglasses store, we catch a Gett to Giv'at Sha'ul. Maddie needed to go to the Nefesh B'Nefesh center to return her broken backpack. Every person who moves to Israel or goes into the army deserves a free backpack apparently and if it breaks, by God, they get a new one. Maddie had gotten the replacement in Tel Aviv yesterday but promised she would return the broken one, if only to prove that she wasn't trying to cheat the organization and hoard backpacks. So the free backpack cost us the cab ride there and back. Pack.

We returned to the apartment to meet Elijah and get my phone. I couldn't go any further without it. I had received zero messages and even fewer calls. My unimportance confirmed, we headed back out into the drizzle. It soon turned into a heavy, soaking rain. Hurray. Off to the tailor, again and then, to kill time before we went BACK to the tailor, pizza. Next up, paper goods for Naomi and then, through the rain to the Swidler residence because of the promise of warm chocolate chip cookies. See, I like Israel and I like eating, but because I am allergic to nuts, I can't enjoy any of the baked goods around here. There is some sort of obsession with hazelnuts and that's just not cool. So while I would love to be able to get something to munch on while I drink my coffee, I can't. Sure, there probably isn't any nut in some of the products, but there are so many around and cross contamination happens so I don't want to risk it and live on Benadryl. We did find Reese's Peanut Butter cups made in America so I munched on them. Through the rain to N+D and many cute children and, more importantly, the hot cookies fresh from the oven. Quite good and warm and not raining so there's that. But I can't count on that when I am wandering a couple of miles away.

Then we head down to Harvey's and our reservation with the Oshins. On the way, Maddie stopped at a while bunch of dress stores so she can try things on and torture me and Elijah. She found nothing all that great but this way no store feels left out. Eventually, we get to Harvey's. Now, I thought Harvey's was a steak house. It turns out, it is a smoke house. I have never been to a smoke house. Normally, when there is smoke in a house, I go outside so this all seemed counter intuitive. But I went in anyway. We ordered every appetizer besides the salad because, salad. Beers and drinks and then mains. I ordered a steak. I know, "smoke house not steak house" but I wanted a damned steak. Other people got a variety of meats smoked for the past day or so but I wanted a simple steak to eat. It was really nice. They call it "entrecote" in Israel but I think of it as "steak." I don't believe in more detailed labels. Also, the onion rings are ridiculously good -- Jeff says he might have developed an addiction. Won't you please donate to help Jeff with his onion ring addiction? For just the cost of an order of onion rings, Jeff can have onion rings. Please help. Brisket, shoulder, and something called Asada kept us all busy and warmed us up from the inside. It is tough to get seats there -- make reservations a few days in advance and order a lot of different things. Share. Then order more. The food was made even better by the company. Though we missed Yoni, it was a hoot reconnecting with the Oshins -- good folks, they. And, they know Harvey so that's clutch.

We waddled out (nice work Harvey, by the way) and worked our way back to the apartment. The young 'uns are playing HQ and I'm drying off and warming up. I'm back to being connected and I can't decide if that is a good thing or not. And I'm still wondering if the espresso is going to haunt me all night. Tomorrow, the mall, because there are dress stores there also.

What would you like to eat? IDC

By the way, that's a Pierre reference in the title. If you don't understand that then you have been culturally deprived and someone's gotta get sued.

We started early this morning, mostly by waking up. It seemed like a mistake at the time and I'm still not convinced. A walk over to the central bus station, a building which, by smell and appearance was as overjoyed to be awake as we were, and onto the 947 bus. I tried to use the automated ticket machine but it didn't seem to work. In my halting Hebrew I explained to the big guy what I was trying to do and he kept pointing out that I wanted something else. I was pretty sure I wanted tickets to the 947. Maddie came over to show me I was wrong but I showed her how the machine was leading me to believe it could get me said tickets. She asked the big guy and he explained that the machine was an inveterate liar and, though I had understood the instructions, it simply could not vend that ticket. I still await general apologies for the assumption that I am incompetent. Let it proven some other time; the fault, dear Brutus, is in the machine, not in ourselves.

The 947 headed to Ra'anana (hey hey, kiss him goodbye) through Petach Tikvah and Hod Hasharon. Fro that terminal, we hopped a #39 for 10 or so stops to get to the campus of IDC, the school Maddie is looking at for next year. There were two stops on campus, identically named, so we chose one and started walking. We followed all the college looking types and ended up on the campus which is small but very nice. Mad's friend Hannah showed us around and we took note of the Communications building, the cafeteria, the Law School, the coffee stand, the economics building and the pasta bar. Then Maddie found somewhere to get something to eat. Our 10:30 appointment was delayed until 11:30 so we looked into some classrooms and Maddie took a final in Statistics. It is a very relaxed campus. During our walk, I ran into a variety of former students and others and Maddie found a friend or two, all reinforcing her sense of comfort at the school. At 11:30 we met with Emily Feldman to ask some pointed questions about the Psych program and how in the world am I supposed to pay for it. She addressed the first and for the second, sent us to a coordinator of student affairs who explained that the person who could answer was next door. We explained more to her so she got on the phone to call someone else. It turned into a very educational morning because she learned a lot of new stuff about army service and federal funding. I'm glad we were able to give her the opportunity to learn stuff. What was interesting to hear was her admission that answers she got today might be different tomorrow -- not as a metaphor, literally 24 hours from now, the identical question might elicit different answers and nothing was in writing. Can a student use that on a test? "Ask me tomorrow and we'll see." No one really has authoritative answers, or even comprehensive understanding of all the possible situations involving lengths of different kinds of service, scholarships, Aliyah benefits etc. Even the Israelis were annoyed at the bureaucracy and uncertainty. Let the acculturation begin!

We hopped a Gett (Hebrew for Uber) towards Tel Aviv, through Ra'anana, a City of Roundabouts, so we could meet up with a high school friend of mine, Brian. Tel Aviv is known as the City of Traffic Jams. The streets were built to accommodate two thin men, or one plus size model walking, so 3 Citroens and a city bus, sharing the space with 2 motor cycles and a mini van doesn't make for speed of any note. Also, the dotted lines are apparently suggestions, and not good ones. Brian does something that involves words like "Mid East" and "research" but the details are unclear to me. We have seen each other once between today and 1988 so this was nice. We ate at Kakao, a dairy cafe on Rothschild. I had an eggplant appetizer and an impersonal pizza. Maddie had a Caesar Salad with Salmon, hold the vegetables. Brian had something health based so who cares? We chatted about life in Israel and important stuff like that. I actually liked it. The food was OK but the conversation and company were welcome.

Next we walked to what we thought was the location of our meeting. We were wrong. After a series of phone calls we found that we were supposed to be 10 minutes away. OK, another Gett to Weitzmann something or other where we met with the Lone Soldier Coordinator for Nefesh B'Nefesh, an organization which helps people make Aliyah to Israel. He, and his co-worker spoke with us about all the benefits Maddie could or could not get depending on all the misinformation we apparently received at IDC. Bottom line is that she should make Aliyah and everyone will throw money at her. If she doesn't she will have to sacrifice a goat and live under a bridge.

Back into another Gett to visit Dizengoff Center, a mall based in two buildings, each a city block long, across the street from each other (connected by multi level bridges) and 3 stories high. The mall is built around spiral ramps and staircases so you can be assured of not seeing all of it and not knowing how to get out. The types of stores were grouped together so you might find yourself in the pet store section and see 4 pet stores in a row. Then come the 6 linen stores and the 14 tattoo and piercings parlors. Then the store that sells swords, maces and potions. Struth. There was also a kosher Burger King. Fortunately, we also had a chance to go DRESS SHOPPING! Hurray! Now, salesladies in 2 cities are convinced I'm an idiot. Maddie actually asked me to find her a 4 Midi, and I, stupidly brought a 4 Mini. I know, right? How dumb can I be?

We walked outside and found our way to a bus to the terminal and then caught the 480 to Jerusalem. We both dozed and awoke near our destination. We walked back to her apartment so we could argue about dinner. Eventually we reached a solution. I would pay for it and go get it and she agreed to eat it. She got ac and cheese (or something not completely unlike Mac and Cheese) from the Waffle Factory (where they assemble some of the key industrial waffles you find in cities around the world) and I got McDonalds, as every growing boy should. Tomorrow, I may attempt a solo trip, so let's hope for the best.

The Price We Pay

Today started out as an empty day. The plan was to get bus info for the trip to IDC, make a shopping list for IKEA tomorrow and move a table. That should only account for 5 or so hours. But as we talked about it an got information, it became clear that based on what Maddie needed, IKEA would not be a cost/time efficient option. She doesn't need furniture, just home wares. While some of the stores in Jerusalem might be a little more expensive, between buses and trains and carrying stuff around for a whole lotta hours, a trip to Netanya or Rishon LeTziyon didn't make sense. So we decided to walk towards Fox Home since Maddie has a membership there so she earns points through purchases and everything in the home goods section is 50% off.

On the way, we stopped at some local hardware and "single use" stores. In Israel, it seems that your choices are either Rolls Royce or a cardboard tricycle that my older brother spilled hot acid on. The country has two settings: the "plastic is too good for you" store, and the "even Americans find this excessive" store.

We ducked in to the shuk because Maddie knew a paper goods (which includes knives...everything is cheap) we had to visit and I wanted to eat something. Unfortunately, though we got knives, the Marzipan bakery is only peanut free, not nut free. So back out and towards the center of town. We did make a stop at Rebar where Maddie got a shake and I got a big cup of pomegranate juice. They used 4.5 pomegranates to make a cup and it was fantastic. Four and a half pomegranates into a cup -- no seeds, no mess. I could drink this very often. You really should try this. In America the pomegranates are no good. Here, everyone is a winner and they have these awesome machines that juice them really efficiently. I expect you to get me some of that for my return. So noted.

We continued up towards Fox Home and bought everything. So here's the crux of today's discussion -- when I set Maddie up in her apartment a year and a half ago, we did a lot of shopping because keeping your own apartment requires planning. It costs even more if one wants to keep a kosher kitchen -- 2 sets of everything and that's just to start. It isn't cheap or easy to maintain a kosher home and I'm proud that Maddie has made this a priority. When I set aside money I don't want to begrudge any attempt to adhere to strict religious rules. But I also see the imposition in time and effort and wish that things could be that much easier for my child and bank account. What has become the fly in the kosher ointment is "roommates." Maddie's haven't always been consistently aware of, sensitive to or sympathetic about her keeping kosher. They use what they want, leave it out or wash it however they want and some have friends over who care even less. Sure, Maddie signed on with them, but under the expectation that they observe the Sabbath and keep kosher; (incredibly) sometimes, people apparently advertise for these things and tell little white whoppers. And it isn't just the kosher thing -- cutlery goes missing, mugs and glasses go broken and bowls go melted. Everything, it seems, must go.

So we shop again and store everything in the machsan (storage room) so that she will be set up for next year when she has new roommates. And I also tell her to sit with these new people and draw up a set of agreed upon rules for keeping everything respectfully kosher -- a "PreSup agreement" if you will. And even if you won't. I admire Maddie for not freaking out any more than she has. A big glass of wine jumped to its demise yesterday. We cleaned it up and she did breathing exercises. The pepper shaker is gone. She took a walk. The fancy plates are chipped and the ones in the drying rack are not especially clean. She counted to a million. So yes, when we shop, I let her get things that maybe she won't "need", or maybe I let her get a level of quality above what a young lady really should settle for, but when it comes to the tension between properly following the laws which help define her and explain why she feels so close to Israel, and a few extra dollars, I'd rather spend the money and make it that much easier for her to hold true to these vital precepts and not show her that religious ideals can be sacrificed when they aren't convenient.

So anyway, we went to Fox, the home of everything breakable -- 2 glasses were dropped by other people while we were there. In all honesty, Maddie did drop a salt shaker in a small hardware store earlier in the day and I spilled her latte on the floor in a fancy clothing store yesterday. We tiptoed through and bought new pans and pots (just a few) and some other home needs. We couldn't find everything so we went through HaMashbir also and bought more stuff. Then to another really nice store on the way back for less breakable glasses. We had been there when we first set things up and the proprietor remembered us (a year and a half later) and even remembered what we bought last time. They must not get a lot of customers. Light rail (because of all the bags we were carrying) on which Maddie explained the finer points of M-16s and back, dropping almost everything off in the locked storage room.

We are off to Cinema city for some dinner, kosher, of course.

A commercial message

A quick note about tonight's dinner: we went to a restaurant called Crave.

Go there.

I mean, now.

I mean drop everything, buy tickets to Israel, hop a cab and eat there. Sure, you might have to wait an hour in the rain and wind for a table. Sure, you will eventually be seated at a small table, on a stool. Sure, it will be noisy, parking will be impossible and the music will make it tough to hear yourself exist. But do it.

The waitstaff is really friendly. The service is incredibly quick and the food is wonderful. I had a Ruben with extra meat and lamb bacon. There was a slight antiseptic taste (I wish I could explain it better, sort of like a clean hospital, but I get the feeling that this is a sensory issue of mine in the way I perceive the smokiness of a Laphroig -- same thing), but the food was great. The Vodka Collins was delicious, an the blaring music was from the catalog of bands Dan likes. Other diners in our party (Eli, Maddie and Slaughter-dale) had things like the Primal, the brisket sandwich and something else I don't even recall. The wings were crispy and juicy, the nachos with fake cheese were delicious (I even ate a few pieces of hot pepper) and the onion rings were as good as any I have had in Israel (and better than many I have had elsewhere). The beer selection seemed nice and, based on reports from those who had, the desserts were killer. We got a ride back from Steve and I'm sitting here still full and savoring the memory of my sammich.

So go. Don't tell them Dan sent you because they don't care.

January Surprise

Morning started cooler and rainy. A gusty wind pushed the thick cloud cover away and left us with a mostly clear sky and cold air, punctuated by clouds and more wind. We took the light rail to the center of town and hoofed to the tailor. Maddie dropped off most of her stuff but we have to go back to get her uniform tailored. Then to grab some food. Rebar had no food she wanted (she was planning on getting a bowl of oatmeal with berries and coconut but they had no oatmeal, berries or coconut so the guy was willing to make a bowl of kiwi, pineapple and cardboard -- she demured) so we headed to Cafe Hillel. She got a white hot chocolate (made with white chocolate tablets which never quite melted) and a croissant and I got a double espresso. Mine was yummy and who cares about anything else?

We made it to the Mamilla mall and stopped at TopShop, a mid to higher end clothing store. Maybe. Who knows. Taking your kid dress shopping sucks in any language and on any continent. Only three sentences get spoken to a dad : 1. Here, hold this. 2. What do you think of this 3. I'm ready - get out the credit card.

The appropriate responses are 1. Yes dear 2. That's a little um, little 3. Shouldn't we check with your mo- whatever, ok.

In my head the answer to all 3 is "get bent" but I resisted the urge.

Next we went shopping for dresses at Zara. Zara is the Hebrew word for "strange" as in, "strange, I didn't think you needed anymore dresses". Next, Mango, as in "man, go away until your daughter needs you to pay." Hebrew is a magical language like that.

6 dress, 1 sunglasses and 2 shoe stores later we had not purchased anything else but I had the chance to be bored in a wide variety of settings. Also, my back. Ouch.

We made if to the Hadaya store where I surprised Maddie with the piece her mom had bought for Maddie's 21st birthday. She really likes it and was really confused and surprised. To celebrate, we stopped at Mr. Pretzel where Maddie bought fresh pieces of pretzel. I suspect that the guy's name is not actually Mr. Pretzel. He is probably an immigrant and his name was changed when he moved to Israel. Also, he might have been born a woman. I really don't know.

Back up from the old city in search of food and a bathroom. On the way, we made sure to run into two more sunglasses stores and see the rest of the world. Hugs and selfies and other things that give me hives. We grabbed a couple of slices at Big
Apple pizza and then, refreshed, headed to more dress shopping and then back to the tailor. A stop at a sunglasses store or three, hardware stores and more dresses.

Max Stock for a lint roller and hangers, Tambour for a sewing kit and double sided foam tape. Zol Stock for a bath mat, foil wrap, electrical tape and foil pans, then the light rail for a couple of stops (as the wind kicked up and temperature plummeted), to Turim. We figured to walk home from there but decided to stop in Mayan 2000 for some supermarket necessities -- toilet paper, paper towel, orange spray cleaner, laundry detergent and, of course, Wacky Mac. Suitably laden, we trudged back to the apartment so I could properly clean the bathroom. The kid keeps it pretty tidy but sometimes it just needs a daddy to get it truly clean. Next up, dinner plans because we haven't eaten in a couple of hours.

Crack Square Dancing

Saturday night in the city of Jerusalem is a trip. The transition from Shabbat to regular life is very quick in certain ways and incredibly slow in others. The streets instantly become a mix of the young ravers with the music pounding, and the very orthodox slowly walking through, still resplendent in their Shabbat finery.

Maddie and I headed out to the light rail to meet my brother and his kids. We stopped off at SuperPharm because Maddie needed deodorant (not on my recommendation...she decided this on her own). From there we walked over to Black Burger. This place is a serious burger bar. I know because we ate burgers, seriously. I had a "Lord Black" which is a burger, while my brother had a Spinacha which is a burger. Much the same story rang out around the table. Maddie had a purple cocktail of some sort while I had a Stella and the babies drank water explaining that they have work tomorrow. Babies. Sheesh.

The food was, in a word, meh. Burgers taste like cow and have plenty of stuff on them and sides, but I just don't get the allure. I can get burgers in lots of places, and I intend to. So chalk this up to another one and done on the food front.

We headed back from Black Burger n Shlom Tziyon Hamalka and started walking up Ben Yehuda. We wended our way through "Crack Square" which is called that for completely non-offensive reasons so no one should worry...really...Part of that walk required navigating the stroller through a rave. Emmy wanted to dance. Bitz asked for hookah. It was a blast. We ran into so many people -- former students of mine, army friends of Maddies, people Tasha, Zevi, Eli or Josie knew. We started our walk having eaten fleishigs but by the time we got to the top we were practically dairy. Ira and his brood kept walking, heading to the bus and home. Maddie and I turned around and headed back down into the fray. In between awkward small talk with all the various people, we connected with two of Maddie's friends, sat for a while in the cold (getting colder) outside of an ice cream place (Katzefet) watching foolish people not wear enough clothes and talk too loud, and then decided to go for a drink. The young people directed me to a little market called "Goah" which is a hole in the wall candy-and-soda place which also happened to pour drinks in the back. I saw a whole bunch of former student and they bought me a drink. This is how I know I was a successful mentor and good influence -- they paid. They bought me this stuff called Tubi which is some sort of wheatgrass alcohol and tasted like lemon juice and vinegar mixed with iodine and ground tires. Another one and done. I made sure to wash it down with vodka. So there I was, in the back of a bodega, drinking mini shots (called "chasers" they are half of a real shot and about an eighth of a reasonable drink) with my kid until we decided it was time to take the light rail back.

On a side note, shout out to Maddie's friends who tried to freak me out. Like that can happen. So, Nash and all the others whom you told I was your father, super to you.

Add double sided foam tape to our extensive shopping list for tomorrow. Vacation, all I ever wanted.

and it was good

We started Friday with a walk to the Lone Soldier Center on Yaffo. This organization provides a network, a set of companions and, as you will read, a lot of beer to the soldiers who have no family in Israel as they serve the country. Maddie had been asked to speak to girls currently learning in various seminaries who are considering serving in the army. I had been asked to sit down and shut up. I did it happily. And ate a bagel with some sort of cheese on it while I watched a bunch of twenty year-olds socialize while carrying guns bigger than Sparky. No offense Sparky. Just saying.

The LSC is, by nature of its focus on army people, run by 24 year-olds for the benefit of 20 year-olds. And I'm sitting here, mostly asleep, as a 48 year old. No one else is near my age but their parents are. Way to fit in. It is both heartening and harrowing to see such young people try to run such an organization (and, for that matter, the IDF, itself). With thoughts swirling around me to this effect I dozed while chewing said bagel. A soldier came in at 9:30 and grabbed a beer while 5 current (or recent) soldier women explained to 20 seminary girls how the process of testing, drafting, testing, complaining, testing, serving and ultimately, drinking beer will go. Maddie mingled and I was introduced to another set of parents because in my stupor, what more could I want to do than make awkward small talk with someone named "Stan." No offense Stan. Just saying.

Off to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for a quick cuppa on the way to the kotel. You can get coffee everywhere but there are so many fancy types. I just want a big cup of black coffee. That's the challenge. I had to settle for a medium sized cup of Turkish coffee which ended up being pretty good but now I feel beholden to Turkey and that's just not right in this current political climate.

We walked through the outdoor Mamilla mall. Fancy stores, places to eat and, eventually a chasid busking, singing and playing an acoustic version of As Tears Go By. I gave him a few shekalim because, well, I guess because it was so unexpected and, in a way, welcome to hear the Rolling Stones on a Friday morning in the Jerusalem sun.

We stopped by the Hadaya store but it was closed. Maddie spoke with someone raising money for the group Lechi without knowing much about Israel. They seemed rather radical so the ignorance was even more frightening. He didn't even know what Lechi stood for. Look it up. I'm not working today. I watched out for cats because they can get rather feisty and I didn't want a repeat of the last trip. We made it to the kotel and Maddie flashed her army ID so she went through the metal detector etc with little checking. All that time in the army finally paid off as she saved 13 seconds and I, as her guest, didn't have to put my wallet through an x-ray machine which just means that the emergency crackers I keep folded in there have not been irradiated. Huzzah.

I only stayed at the wall for a few minutes but in that time I really did feel spiritually recharged. I know -- it is just a wall. But something about it makes everything I believe very real. It helps me focus and feel, connect and understand. It is something I need to keep me going until the next time. If you want to relate, try reading Tintern Abbey. Same thing. I won't explain it. Remember, I'm not working. I said tehillim and asked the big guy to protect everyone I love and some people I just tolerate. As it was getting closer to Shabbat, we hopped a cab back to Ben Yehuda and King George and ducked into a Yemenite restaurant that Maddie likes so we could get take-out for Shabbat lunch. The food was all out in pans (apparently the army calls these "gastronomim" but I think that that's a bit like calling a bowl of dog food "victuals") and we filled up some small tins with chicken, beef, crunchy filled things and (as Maddie is watching me write this, I will remind her) A PIECE OF FISH WHICH IN THE FRIDGE. We walked back with our bags and saw the whole world waiting by the light rail outside Machane Yehuda. Small talk with former students, friends and people who wanted money for their too large families. We stopped at a small makolet and got Prigat (Lemonana and Banana-Strawberry if you must pry). Then we got back to the apartment to prepare for the long wail of the Shabbat horn.

We walked back to the LSC for dinner. Fifty or so soldiers (some with a plus one) mingled and eventually held a raucous dinner in which I learned that seven treatments of potatoes along with rice and challah is still delicious, soldiers are a rowdy bunch on weekends and the army travels on its well-trodden liver. Beer (Stella), various wines and liquor were served. (The shots were reserved for those people who, in the last two weeks, had reached a milestone in their service -- enlisting, going from training to full service, finishing, breathing air, or being the father of Maddie). By 8:30 we had had enough and we walked back (we, being Maddie and her friends Adi and Gabi). Lights out was 4+ hours earlier so we were asleep by 9PM.

Shabbat day was a stay-in affair. I was up at 2AM and read til 4, then slept until 9. I davened and read more -- Ready Player One, which I finished...and I have much to say on that topic, some other time, but in brief, HEY, Ernest Cline, stop mining my life for your book! Lunch with Maddie's roommate Leah at about 11:30 during which we spoke about the difficulties of keeping kosher when not everyone is exactly on board in an apartment (someone used a parve pot for chicken soup and then soaked it in the dairy sink...). We chatted until about 2 when we all fell back asleep until 4. Shabbat wound down and now we are preparing to go out and grab some dinner because, as Goldberg says, "Dinner? I haven't had that since yesterday."

Tomorrow, back to the old city and some simple shopping:

aluminum foil
a new shower rod/curtain
sunglasses
nice dresses (for Maddie)
back to the Hadayah store

Sundries, abut not various.

It had its up and down

Now it can be told.

I have been planning this trip to Israel for a few months now, but have been keeping it a secret to avoid the throngs of fans awaiting me at the airport when I land, and also because I was hoping to surprise my sister by showing up unexpected.

Hillel drove me to the airport and my nervous neuroses were in full swing. For a 1:15 flight, we arrived at 9:45 in the morning. Found my way inside to discover that there was already a sizable line (50-75 people) for security and check in. I had already checked in online so I wasn’t sure what to do vis-à-vis this line so I asked and was told that they were part of a group trip so should walk over to the “first class” line and check in there. So I wandered and when I got there, I asked what to do. I was told I was in the wrong line because I was not in business or first class. I explained that the nice man in the tie said I should come over. A few shouted words back and forth and I was told I was in the right place. Huzzah. Next up was the “keep waiting for 15 minutes because we are just getting set up, our Windows XP isn’t working, our printer isn’t printing and there are already 4 people ahead of you in this line and they really ARE first class passengers.”

I got to the front of the line and the El Al security person started asking the important questions about why I was going to Israel and if I packed all my own bags. I kept the nervous laughter to a minimum and Shira (if that is her real name) let me through. On to passport control where my passport was suitably controlled. I disrobed to the extent demanded by the law (and maybe a little more just to spice things up), put all my stuff into a series of bins and stepped into the magical machine that spins around and decides if I am a good person. Then, out to the burly guard who patted me down to see if I had any additional evil upon my person. My backpack had to go through the x-ray type machine twice but I aced it which shows that I am superior to a backpack in terms of goodnessitude. Win.

Then, on to the gate where I waited until Hudson News (no doubt a project of Hudson University) opened so I could buy a NY Times. I only read it for the crossword puzzle. Also, there was an excellent article about a recipe for a boiled and roasted whole head of cauliflower. Look it up and make it for me. 10:30 and all’s well. Time to wait at the gate. I got some reading done between the newspaper and a book and bought a water bottle to wash down the ibuprofen for the I-haven't-slept headache.

I saw people going to daven mincha. No one asked me. I felt left out again but tagged along. There was minor controversy over exactly when was the right time to daven 12.34 or 12.27 and how many seconds. What annoyed me was that my ticket was tagged group B so I was to board early but we were still davening while they started calling for boarding. The one chance I have had to be a “have” instead of a “have-not” and it was going to be destroyed. But I still got on early enough to snag overhead space with no fighting. The 787-9 (3 sets of 3 seats across – 2 aisles) is a nice plane but the seat material is thinner and flatter than in other planes and the angle of the seats puts the video screen too close to my face. First world problems.

A young woman on the Birthright trip which was the group I saw when I first arrived at the airport sat next to me. I looked at the seating chart recently and that seat was empty so I had gotten my hopes up. No luck, I guess. I was very happily not making conversation and was settled in when a friend of hers came over and asked if I would switch seats. He, too, had an aisle seat so I wouldn’t lose anything in the switch…he said… I graciously and stupidly said yes. It turned out he was on the aisle in row 59. The last row of the plane. Next to the bathroom – like RIGHT next to the bathroom. Amongst the Birthright masses. And this row actually had no overhead space allowed. Things just went south fast.

The 787 has no air blowing vent thing but the in-flight entertainment is substantial with many games, movies and TV shows, plus entire albums of good music, games, maps and dafyomi.

An observation: why do people bring so much stuff as carry on? Suits that they then ask about hanging up? Hats and mannequin heads with wigs? Three or four bags which they expect to find space for even if it means displacing someone else’s single bag?

The Birthright guy in the middle seat next to me asked me for the aisle seat. I said no. I refuse to feel bad about that. I said I needed it for my knees. He claimed the same thing. I said no. I refuse to feel bad about that. So he went on to set a new world record for man-spreading in his seat. He took more than both arm rests and then some. Then I started hearing a baby crying before we even taxied and man boy spreader has his knees pressed against mine which are well within the bounds of my seat.

Just as a side note and you might have heard me say this before: I really want an airplane bathroom, just with a toilet that isn’t quite as loud, but still as effective and violent as the one in the 787.

I watched Dark Tower (not especially good) and ate carbs (not especially bad) carbs and listened to half of Revolver. Take a guess: how many people use the bathroom. During a 10 hour flight? Approximately everyone. Twice. I even think some people who weren’t on the flight showed up to use the bathroom while I dozed, fitfully.

There was precious little room, in the row, in the seat, in the aisle. I started getting nauseated. Compared to other planes, there is no real space on the 787 9 to daven and the population, service staff included were not jazzed about it.

I carbed out at dinner ("meatballs" rice, hummus, some sort of bland cake) but it didn’t knocked me out yet. Troubling. The plan was to fall into a proper carb coma about 3 hours into the flight. That didn’t really happen. I dozed mostly in the very uncomfortable seat and the spreader made it worse. As did the “chop.” Chop is pilot jargon for turbulence or, as I call it, death air. There was a lot. Proximity to the bathroom has proven integral. Often. On the positive side, those calories don’t count.

I continued to be very tired but sleep eluded me.

I listened to the rest of the remastered Revolver. 14 songs none over 3 minutes but all musically gold. Then some of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.

Breakfast. I had a bagel and cream cheese. I gave away the omelet to the Spreading-Evil next to me in the hopes that he would reward my largesse by staying within the limits of his own seat. Didn’t happen. I also skipped yogurt and the little balls of mozzarella with olives and grape tomatoes because they are clearly gross. If you don’t agree then you are wrong. I didn't think I was hungry but if I didn’t eaten how could I be sure there would be more turbulence? And we all love more vomit air (please don’t confuse this use of vomit-air with any references to a sickly Michael Jordan. So breakfast didn’t stay breakfast for too long.

The stewards are brusque or even downright rude, and the people are difficult but I somehow feel comfortable around that. It feels right. Gonna have coffee. OK, tea I guess as the coffee server walked right past me. Next up for a listen, selections from After the Gold Rush. And most of Rumors, all of Dark Side and a crossword puzzle

We landed only 5 minutes late and I, being in the last row, didn’t get up. I knew that almost 60 rows of people had to deplane before me so I didn’t rush. Eventually I got out – on to passports, customs and baggage claim. I had been in contact with Maddie to let her know of my schedule and which bus I would take but when I moved towards the exit, THERE SHE WAS!! She had come to escort me back which was useful because I had completely misunderstood the directions as to where to wait for the bus, and though she had to wake up early, because she was in uniform, the trip was free. We caught the 8AM bus #485 to Jerusalem. It continued to batter my stomach the way the flight had but after an hour and lots of traffic, we got to our stop – the construction site that is at Binyanei Ha’umah. Up to Maddie’s apartment for the opening of the suitcase and for shacharit and a prayer that my stomach would settle down eventually. We contacted Ira and met up with him at Café Aroma for a morning coffee. Then we walked around running little errands (Maddie needed hangers) and, an hour or two later, some food. While walking around we saw a commotion and some blocked off streets. Apparently there was a suspicious item somewhere so the bomb squad had to blow it up. Five times. It as very loud, but it wouldn't have been out of place in Manhattan. I forced myself to eat Moshikos because some things are important. Maddie went to get her nails done. I felt that my nails were already finished to Ira and I walked through the shuk a little. We got to Nomi’s and presented the big surprise. She did seem shocked and not really dismayed so I will take this as a win. We hung out there and I started falling asleep on a bed. We knew it was time to walk some more so back to the shuk and I pickd up a diet Coke which I hoped would help carry me over to dinner. Ira introduced me to his friend at the restaurant “Hatch” and we chatted about transliterated names. He stopped for some fresh squeezed pomegranate juice which was fantastic. We met up with two of his kids and Maddie and went back to Nomi and David’s to spend some time with them.

Then off to dinner. We went with the Weisingers and Ira and 2 of his kids to Ish-Tabach which makes meat bourekas and shepherds pies. They also have what they call a "potato salad" which is fried potato wedges. This is salad? Had I known that I would ave been encouraging salad consumption from way back. Afterwards Maddie and I walked back to her apartment and I fought the tendency of the world to move ad spin uncontrollably as sleep hints that it would be amenable to my invoking it. She wants to go out with friends tonight, but we have to watch Shiriyah at 2 in the morning and then she has to go to speak at a Lone Soldiers’ Center in the morning, so this should be interesting. In fact, we are eating at the LSC for Friday night.

More tomorrow or after Shabbat.