"None of the Above" is not a valid choice

There are 2 aspects to a politician in his role as politician, his character and his politics. Maybe this can be generalized to all identity issues and interpersonal relationships but I'm not here to write a PhD thesis, just get a slice of toast and then maybe a cookie.

Character -- not morality or anything as narrow as that. The overall character that is created for the world to meet. One politician is the down-home guy, the other is the suffering immigrant while another is the comforting grandmother. Politicians adopt a persona, be it outsider to war hero, and their public image is ever indebted to that façade. Behaviors are dictated by whether they would underscore or undermine that character. When is it necessary to break that image and how is it done? Is the goal a new image, a rebranding? Or an evolution or growth in character? Why here, why now?

Politics -- these are the beliefs and behaviors within the bounds of issue-specific interactions. Votes cast, language used, bills sponsored, rallies attended. By observing the public political behavior each side can decide where the politician stands and therefore, how he or she is probably going to vote or act in the future, barring any intervening events. While actions often reflect actual beliefs, sometimes the politician has to act against his own belief in order to make some gain (personal or public) which is deemed worth the sacrifice. Knowing the personal beliefs and character help understand motivation.

When we vote, are we voting for the character? Everyone loves Joe the Plumber but might not know that Joe supported the use of Comic Sans in government documents. But his record and actual positions don't matter if we are voting for personality. And if we try to vote on the politics, and even if we remotely trust that the politician's agenda actually has "the good of America" as its number one motivation, we still then have to confront a candidate with whom we agree on some things but not on others. So we close our noses and choose the one with whom we disagree the least, or on the less important issues. We aren't voting on a policy but on a public figure. We say "who cares if the unions are on strike, the other countries respect us" when the domestic issue relates to us less and a dashing smile is the answer to the world audience. Other times we say "I can't believe he supports that" because this politician has done a personal set of calculations and decided that for some hidden reason, voting against form is a chess move in a marathon game o' chess.

What does this all mean? It means there isn't enough "open" for our eyes to open for us to see the various levels of hidden machinations that make for a (relatively successful) political system. We shouldn't be so aware of how the sausage is made because even if we had the nerve say we don't like sausage now, we would find out that there is nothing remotely as good, or that we are willing to struggle to have to learn and/or get used to on the menu so if we have sausage we have nothing.

It means that this is another sphere in which we are sheep, limited by the farmer as to what we can see, hear, taste and know and that our job is to continue to be sheep but with our eyes open, knowing we are sheep so we can start to ask the difficult questions which come not from rejecting a system but from paying attention while it works, so closely that you can begin to see its inner workings. So we don't abandon society, or resign ourselves to silent frustration. We vote. We write letters. We hope to raise our personal agendas to a higher priority for the politician.

Apologies to all the politicians, past, present and future who follow this blog (as I'm sure so many do) but the exact personality traits that helped you get to where you are make it impossible for the system to truly soar. A movie star can't be shy. A football player can't be a pacifist. If he were, he wouldn't have risen to the highest level in his sport.

Home beis

 OK, I'm back and have had a few hours to try and make sense of everything. I shall pick up from the airport and work forward to some musings before signing off.

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People started showing up in earnest by 1:30 AM. I watched them straggle in, some awake and aware, others dragging, and many annoyed at the delay. I saw that the esteemed Josh Gotlieb and wife Annie were there! We chatted for a while and then he went back to try and track down a family member.

More and more people are noticing that the USB ports in the "free charging stations" aren't connected to anything and that someone seems to have stolen all of the wall outlets.

Our plane, the Rishon Leziyon, has been parked for a while. It is a lovely if slightly smaller plane. The Beit She'an is also around here but not at the right gate. The Gotliebs told me that they were offered a chance to be bumped and rebooked and would be given a hotel voucher. I wasn't given that! I would have taken it in a heartbeat. Just glom off of the hotel for a bunch of hours, sleep in the tub, eat more. But nope, no one said a word to me. Not fair.

Unlike other flights I have been on, the boarding process here did not ask us to line up based in group. Not that anyone listens to those directions anyway, but I felt less guilty about jumping on line as soon as they said that boarding would commence (about 4:10AM). This time, I had a carry on so I needed to ensure an overhead bin close to my seat. I got on and went to 35A (exit row). The overhang of the bins was annoying but I got my stuff up and settled in. The seats felt slightly narrower than the one I rode in on on the way here. And the guy next to me filled up his entire seat so it was tough to get out of my spot, between the overhead and his presence. He also put his carry on on the floor in the empty space in front of us once the flight got going so when I got up, I had even less walking room.

Before we even took off, I chomped on a sleeping pill and I don't recall taking off. I woke 4 hours later, and promptly went back to sleep. Repeat every hour for a few hours. Eventually I got up to daven, and later, try to work on a puzzle or two. But I was still so tired that I cuddled back up and nodded off. No music, no movies, no TV. I missed both meals and at least 1 minyan. And yet I was still incredibly tired after I deplaned. Also, the teenager who was on a group trip of Israeli kids who had been under rocket attacks started the flight by crying incessantly and wanting to leave because she was scared of flying. That's fine. She eventually had a fine, fun time except she never really learned, and nobody told her, that the video screen and back of the seat in front of her were connected to the front of the seat in front of her and to me. She kept kicking and pushing it. Good thing I was able to fall asleep repeatedly.

It was COLD in the plane. Ambient temp was fine, but I was at the window side and it felt like there was a pinprick hole and -40 degree air was rushing in. I wasn't wearing layers because it plane wasn't cold on the way in. The wall and my left armrest were freezing to the ouch.

So we land, I jump off quickly, get through passport control early and then to the baggage carousel where I wait for a while until my bag emerges. First in, last out, I guess. But that's ok. I'd rather hurry up and wait than stand in line and fret. Randy was there waiting and I made it back to here.

OK, to sum it up I wanted to add a thought. The power of fluency in a language has nothing to do with having a strong vocabulary. Real fluency is tested when a native mumbles or speaks quickly or has a regional accent. I was at El Al security and the woman, after looking through my stuff said something. It was noisy in the airport and she was not speaking slowly and clearly. It took a while until she switched to English. She had said a single Hebrew word, one that I know well. But because I couldn't hear clearly, I was lost. In English, I can look at the situation, hear enough of the word to use context and figure it out, or see the movement of lips and put them together with sounds to figure it out. But while I can understand (generally) when people speak clearly to me in full thoughts, slangs and verbal shorthand, or the accent of someone's Hebrew make it really tough for me.

Stop giving me lessons in easy phrases, and start giving me lessons on how to recognize those phrases when they are said by a native Arab speaker who has a mouthful of marbles.

I have already started thinking about my next trip. Or maybe, I just haven't stopped thinking about this one.

Last lefts

I intentionally slept poorly last night, or at least that's what I will tell myself, but a tired body is part of my master plan to help increse the odds of a solid sleep on the flight. So up I get, and I spend some time talking science and math with Rafi. That's how tired I was. I was talking science and math. I wasn't making much sense but that's par for the course. Eventually, I worked up the energy to eat so he and I went off in search of a last day's journey into lunch.

I had noticed that Kuba place (called Varda maybe?) opposite Power Coffee Works and today was the perfect opportunity to try it. I'm a fool for kubas (or kibbehs or whatever you want to call them -- ground meat and spices and pine nuts in a corn meal crust) so I wanted to indulge my foolishness. I said my goodbyes to Eli (he's my nephew) as he returned to base and I left with Rafi. As we approached, I pointed out to him that I would not be getting any coffee because I noticed that the Poqwer Coffee Works was being staffed by that same 12 year old who served me a sad excuse for a decaf on my first trip out last week. Fool me once, whatever. Fool me twice and that's bad so cut that out.

At the kuba place, I perused the menu and discovered that their idea of kubas was more like a kreplach, served in a soup. I didn't sign up for soup and soup isn't what I wanted so we bade a hasty farewell to the purveryor and Rafi said that he knew a place in the shuk called Tzidkiyahu that had kubes. We left unenkubaed and crossed over to Machaneh Yehudah. There are, by the way, enough restaurants just on Agrippas that I could spend an entire vacation just eating up and down the block and still have places left over at the end. That sounds like a plan. Remind me to write that down as a plan.

The place Rafi recommended was not a restaurant but a take out place and they had a pile of kubas there all sad and cold. We rescued 8 of them and asked the gentleman to heat them up in the microwave. They ended up somewhat warm and soggy but the flavor was spot on. Yum, in its own way. Then we turned around and saw a juice place and we ordered a large pomegranate juice for each of us. I was approached by a gentleman who asked me for charity and said he was hungry. Then he asked me to by him a carrot juice. That, I was willing to do (6 shekel). People just walk up to you and ask for food, money or bus fare. I don't judge but, what the hey?

Next stop, the candy store, so I could pick up a Pesek Zman for a neighbor. I don't like buying that stuff because it encourages people to put hazelnuts in things and I'm allergic to hazel nuts and would rather they all die and suffer in the fiery pits of hell. But I bought one and Rafi got me a bag so I wouldn't even have to touch the wrapper. then back to the house so I could start watching the clock, pacing and fretting.

A big cultural difference -- Sunday is a full-on weekday. This makes the waning hours of shabbat more stressful (IMHO). Sure, you might get Friday off but then all your "day off" energy is focused on shabbat prep. Meh. Also, elementary school students here have substantial and daily homework over the summer. While Avital and Eyal had their review work, Nava studied math intensely, as she is retaking a bagrut exam tomorrow. She did fine the first time, but she feels she can do better. And she's mighty cool and awesome and stuff so I'm just saying that I believe in her and her success and work ethic.

Then the text came -- my flight, scheduled to leave at 1:30 AM was moved to a 4:50 departure. There is one kind of change that I have the most trouble with and that's the kind where there is change. Some people would be excited at the opportunity to do more stuff, see more things or whatever but I am not one of thsoe people, Heck, I'm not ANY of those people. I had set up a schedule accounting for everything from my sleeping to my eating to my packing and to everything else and this one text threw it all into a state of higgledy piggledy (a real mess). I was on a particular particular trajectory of anxiety, scheduled to culminate at 7 when I would leave for the train. Now suddenly, I was at a 4pm anxiety when I would be anxious all the way to 10PM. This is not good. I had already mapped out my pacing routine and I had to go pack to the drawing board and reevaluate EVERYTHING. 

On the plus side, as it was approaching dinner, this afforded me an chance to try one more place so we all (David, Nomi, Eyal, Yoni, Avital and I, with Nava's order memorized) went to New Deli (Sandwich, Sandwich -- the store so nice, they named it sandwich). I have walked by various branches of this chain but have never gone in, let alone tried the food. So tonight, in honor of my delayed flight and as a final thank you to the hosts with the mosts, I chose it.

To list what veryone got would take too long, so I'll stick to what I got, a salisbury steak type sandwich (which, of course, should be "sammich" but they just aren't that progressive) with doubvle meat, and onion rings with a sriracha dipping sauce. To drink, a mineral water (which, translated to English is "water"). Surprisingly great. Good sized sammich, yummy rings, quick service, reasonable cost. The stuff other people ordered also looked really good, good enough that I would certainly go back in the future. I paced while eating so i am pretty sure that I added no calories to my daily intake. I also watched people walking around Agrippas.

One thing I miss when I leave (and I know I have mentioned this before) is the feeling I have of belonging. I know I don't totally belong because I'm a dumb American tourist, but the people, regardless of their color or race, their personal level of religiosity, or even religion, are all, in an essential way, like me. We share something vital and unique and the we of we are all everywhere. Maybe this wouldn't hold true in other cities, but who cares. I was strolling and jaywalking on Agrippas and I felt like I was an equal part of something really special. Darn that was a good sammich.

Back to the house to do some more clock watching. I had set up a time to leave so that I could make the 10:02 train. Nomi, David, Rafi and I left at 9:45 and got to the station at 10:11. But who cares. I knew that there was a 10:32 train and I had plenty of time to make that. Nomi had helped me recharge the rav kav card and it was a real relief to have people accompanying me and schlepping my bags. With all the changes, due to constant construction, I would never have found the entrance to the station without them. I left them once I bought my ticket and I made it down to platforms 1-4. I hadn't looked to see which platform held the train I wanted and there were trains just sitting at, I don't know,  3 or 4 (H/T Pete Puma). The one on track 3 had a sign asking people not to get on. The one on 4 had no sign at all but people were getting on.  I chanced it and got on. I wasn't sure if the trains were like Metro North trains at Grand Central that sit, waiting 30 minutes before departure, or if this train would leave earlier and the correct train would pull up at 10:31 while I was on the way to Syria.

And my mosquito bite itches.

I was still possessed of all sorts of questions. Would they allow me to check in so early? Should I nap? I really do know nothing but, as they say in Israel, "מה?" I do have to send another thank you note to the entire of the Swidler clan. This trip was a blast. I hope this blog post qualifies because I'm not going to remember to...

The train ended up being the right one and 25 uneventful minutes later, I pulled in to the airport. Up to the 3rd floor for departures, into the check in line. Yes, yes, I know I already checked in over the interwebz and I could just go to an automated kiosk and print up baggage labels, then leave my bags in a pile somewhere to be moved. But you know what? I prefer working with people. I like someone to blame. Also, if my bag is a little overweight, a person can make allowances or grant favors to a pathetic American dad. A machine can't.

My suitcase clocked in at 22.5kg (booyeah!) and they didn't ask nuthin' about my carry-on so I moved to security. The guy also said something about going somewhere to pick up a card for coffee or milk, as recompense for the delaying of the flight but I didn't really hear or understand him and I have no interest in coffee or milk. Off to security. I don't know if it is because I'm early or because they have changed  things, but I was able to get x-rayed and scanned before the room that herds everyone into a mass of undiffferentiated lines, and I didn't have to take off my shoes. By 11:22 I was walking down the big ramp towards the food court. This big circular area has indorr rainfall in the center, and birds are flying around. I wandered a bit and found a bunch of yummy looking kosher restaurants. I conidered getting a McDonald's shake but apparently, no such thing exists. They have McFlurries and that was tempting but I noticed that a standard add-on was hazel nuts so the spectre of cross contamination reared its butt ugly head and I had to back away slowly. Also, I had had a fairly large sized meal somewhat recently so I just had no appetite. How depressing is that? I'm finally at the airport early enough to eat and there are interesting places to eat but I'm still stuffed from dinner. I looked into getting a soda at one fo the shops and saw that they were charging $3.50 for a can of soda. Not cool.

I made it to the gate listed on my ticket and saw that on the big board, a different gate was listed. I asked a dapper young man what the story was and he said "I guess the gate is changed" but that didn't tell me which one was right. I decided to keep it a mystery. We'll see what happens.

Now I have 3 hours to kill, no charging ports for my phone and I'm feeling very tired. This hould be interesting. Next stop? Not sure. Stay tuned.

Friends we haven't met yet. Then we did.

 The world wide computer outage impacted a friend of Nomi and David's. She was due in to Newark min Friday afternoon, giving her ample time to get where she needed to be before the onset of Shabbat, but because of the computer stuff, he flight was delayed and she was scheduled to arrive at 7 when Shabbat began at 8:06. She would have to deplane, get through security, passport control/customs, and get her bags, then get to somewhere else (because if you aren't Tom Hanks, Shabbat in an airport may not be your thang. This was a moment at which I could see that we are a nation, not just a religion (h/t to David for the wording; my original was "Judaism is a nation, not just an annoyance"). Phone calls were made, advice sought, connections made -- kudos to all the resources, the communal rabbis, various Chabads, Facebook friends and friends of friends, and Danielle Tamir (who is pretty much a communal rabbi and a chabad and real life friend) who all stepped up with ideas and a sense of calm amidst our pre-shabbat whirlwind.  In Jerusalem, Shabbat begins earlier than other parts of Israel and we are already 7 hours ahead so while she was crossing the Atlantic, on her way to The Jersey Shore (and beyond) we were already taking showers and forgetting to take the laundry tags off of our shirts. Sure, I would just go to the lounge and open a tab and then lounge for 25 hours, but some people like to be actual places. I don't get it, but  the customer is always right. We really wanted to be able to act like an ATC and hand her off to the next tower so it could guide her in. Since it is only 10:30PM here (post Shabbat) we don't even know what ended up happening. Fortunately, there is nothing else happening in the news of the world so we will just invest all of our hopes into a positive resolution at exit 14A.

A note about Shabbat here -- yes, the "day" begins with a protracted horn's sounding, announcing the candle light time and that's nice, and the traffic reduces substantially and that's nice, but you know what also happens? The family makes sure that its safe room's light is on, and the radio is turned to a specific station which goes off the air on Shabbat but which announces air raid sirens so people can be up to date with what is happening. Think about that, world -- before the spiritual heights, every person has to be conscious of the existential threats that are ever present. Anyone who discounts the experiences of the Israeli population and assumes that "everything is fine" doesn't understand what life here is like and what "fine" really means. It means a constant backdrop of fear, and learning to live without acknowledging and succumbing to that fear.

I had a chance to meet my nephew Eli's (he's my nephew) girlfriend. Her name is Gani (stress on the second syllable, please) and she is wonderful. They seem very happy and she put up with me (and him!) so I found that impressive.

The guest list: Friday night found Sam the Australian and Miriam, his wife (return visit after last week's successful meal) at the table with Gani, me, and Swidler children 1, 2, 4, 5 and 6. Nava was at Mitzpe Ramon for a group program. There was chicken, veggies, challah and other veggies (including insane potatoes) and a vegetable frittata. Today we had 4 members of a Birthright trip (Moishe of Manchester, Menachem of Brooklyn, and Tehilla and Malka of Monsey).  They are here volunteering for a bit, not just visiting the land, but helping where help is needed. That's what a nation does. Color me floored. Plus we have Mr. and Mrs Swidler who just returned from shepherding grandchildren up the US East Coast. Grilled dogs of various sorts, grilled chicken, zucchini kugel, salad and I'm sure other stuff. Oh yeah, last night we had home made chocolate cake for David's birthday and home made double chocolate biscotti for dessert today.

I made it to shul last night and even this morning. I thought I got some reasonable percentage of a good night's sleep. But I kept falling asleep during davening this morning so I excused myself and returned to the house for a well deserved nap. After the guests left, I spent time with the kinds, chatted and joked with Eli and Gani (who is wonderful -- Gani, not Eli; he's my nephew) and went through more pictures with Nomi. All these people is good people.

Now, Avital has a friend over, I have just eaten more chicken (with fried onions) then biscotti, and the post Shabbat clean up and catch up is underway. Tonight is my last night here and I intend to mark it by being finally and fully adjusted to Israeli time.

Super Fry-day

Friday morning. So last night, I was up and lying in bed. That's it. That's the whole story. I caught a couple of hours after daybreak so I am in fine form. I got up and chatted for a bit with Nomi and David, then decided that it was a nice day for a McDonald's. Because of the late starting time for shabbat, I can eat a lunch and not ruin my appetite. As if that's even possible. I needed some sustenance and processed food and wanted to go into the sabbath with the right level of self-loathing. The McDonald's on Ben Yehuda is closed on Fridays but don't dismay; there is one in the Cinema City mall and according to the Google, it is already open at 11AM. So off I walked into the sun and meat.

I arrived dripping with anticipation and sweat. Mostly sweat. Lo and behold, the store was closed. Also, Cinema City is light on the A/C in that they believe in using light as A/C. But someone was working inside the McDonald's so I held out hope. In the interim I walked around the mall. Cafe Greg was open and full, as was New Deli (open, not as full). There is a Berlitz store which offers classes in English using total immersion. Aside from the fact that on a hot day, total immersion sounds great, I feel like teaching a class by simply speaking English and expecting them to catch on is exactly my skill set. In the space that used to be a burger place there is now a "Pit Master." I'm hopeful that it is not a callback to pre-Civil War days but as it was closed, I couldn't see if anyone had a whip.

I found a new corner, one which I have never seen. Finding a new corner is especially exciting as the mall is round. It holds an Aroma, a sushi place (Japanika) and a grill place (HaChaverim). The former looks open and the latter, not so much. There is also a stair case up! Actually, 3 because the up and down escalators are not working, but I didn't even know that there was an upstairs so this is all very revelatory. Who knew that there was more to the mall? Probably everyone but me, that's who. There is a dentist, an optometrist, a physical therapist and Spectrum Imaging (for all the pictures of your insides you never knew you needed). There is a display of old projectors and on each one there is a sign indicating that no one is to touch it. If they don't want me to touch it, why put it out there when McDonald's is closed?

There is also an outside, with kiosks detailing biblical events and concepts. The doors to the outside are chained, though, and it looks to be a destruction site behind the Eretz HaTanach, with old tires and a lack of people.

I found a staircase further up so I traipsed into the sky only to discover that it was a fitness center. I'll pass. Back all the way down, I found a sort of pop-up book store but almost all the books were in Hebrew. The one English language book I found was Sylvia Plath's "Ariel" and I considered buying it because that's a great resource when forcing Hebrew speakers to learn English via immersion. I found ann arcade with different types of "claw" cames. You can spend 10NIS for a chance to get a new phone or speakers. There was machine which, for 10, gave you the chance to win a single sneaker! I also saw a store offering Electrical Muscle Stimulation but I feared that that was a euphemism so I walked away quickly. Next door is a "Gastro Clinic." That reminded me to check and, yes, McDonald's was open!

I used the ordering kiosk (in Hebrew, no less) semi-successfully. They had no diet soda on the menuthe menu so I got a water -- I believe they knocked a shekel off the cost because I got the water. Or maybe not; I don't know what a minus sign means in Hebrew. If it is what I think, a credit of 1 shekel, then next time, I will just go in and order 100 waters and make bank. They asked for a various set of numbers, none of which I had. I ordered a chicken sammich. Fair question as to "why" but the answer is folded suchly: I have eaten some burgers on this trip and have had burgers at this place so I wanted to try something different, and I have never had the chicken sammich, so for the sake of science, I made the call. I also ordered some sawg (a Mcd's cloth bag!) so I can advertise to the world that I don't care about my health. Total was 83NIS. I received my order number: 1301. This is not my favorite number but it is now in the running.

Oh yeah, I supersized it.

The dairy section is walled off but it is easy for people to order from it and take the dairy food inside. I'm not second guessing the supervision. I just find it interesting, that's all. And it means I couldn't get a fabled shake. The sandwich is not a single hunk hunk burning chicken. It was one medium sized piece and 1 small piece. There was lettuce, onions, tomato, maybe a pickle, onions, and a mustard sauce. It is called the Mumbai (I'm assuming because there is no cow in it). It was unexpectedly spicy but once I accepted that, I enjoyed it. I never got my swag bag so I walked back up to the counter and explained that I hadn't. The woman asked what I didn't get so I told her. She told me that they don't have any bags. That's the kind of thing that should be reflected on the menu. Anyway, in her Hebrew and my English, we agreed that she would credit me on my card for the ba. This would require erasing the entire order and reprocessing it. I think she did that (I have the new receipt but I'm honestly not sure what it means). And at the end, she cautioned me not to order the bag again. Maybe she should have apologized and removed it from the menu, but it was more efficient just to tell me not to do it again. The bun was very soft, the sauce great and the chicken was incredibly crunchy and crispy.

I played hit the balloon with a couple of little children whose mother was roundly ignoring them. You're welcome, lady. I walked back via the overland passage instead of through the netherworld of the Rabin tunnel and then to the house so I could sweat some more. I took a nap with Eyal guarding me and now I'm awake and starting to think of Shabbat. I doubt I'll get back to this today so, happy, happy to all youse and see you on the flip side.

On thin ice

Yoni and I walked to Ben Yehuda. Yoni is my nephew but is not Rafi, Eli or Eyal. I was considering McDonalds because I have never been to the one on Ben Yehudah and also, there is something about the forbidden that makes it attractive. It is like forbidden fruit but the tree has hamburgers growing on it. It was closed. This made it more forbidden but also harder to get in to. So I gave up on that dream, at least until tomorrow. What happens to a burger deferred? They'll just reheat it. Instead, we walked to Pasta Machine (motto, "Pasta No Drama," preach man, preach).

I got a mac and cheese but with rigatoni and rigatoni and cheese just doesn't carry the same gravy-tas. Plus I got water for the drinking of. Yoni got a Fanta. Total, 77NIS. I added 2 other cheeses because I believe in all that is right and good and cheesy. The cheddar sauce was mild and they gave me added parmesan. Plus I poured on a couple of packets of black pepper. Yoni said it was tough for him to finish a serving so now my pride was on the line and I had to prove something to prove to someone. Hi Yoni. Hey, Yoni: I finished it, no problem. Who's the man? Who's the fat, balding, old man with two thumbs? This guy! This fat, balding, guy. Yay? Anyway, the mac and cheese was quite nice. There was a lot of the very creamy and cheesy sauce.

Afterwards, Yoni showed me B-Fresh (Yo, Yo Yoni!) and ordered a New York. This store specializes in lovely, refreshing and healthful fruit drinks and acai bowls. The New York is milk, vanilla ice cream, tapioca and Oreo cookies. Yoni asked for no tapioca so he got a healthful and refreshing chocolate shake. 33NIS to support the faltering New York economy. Money well spent.

On Ben Yehuda I saw people on the Sulam trip including some of my students (too many to name and I forgot their names anyway). Hi guys! That frum looking guy with the guitar was back and just ripping it up as usual. He had his usual backing tracks and also a keyboard to accompany his guitar. The Sulam kids said that they were doing "lunch on Ben Yehuda" so we walked up Yafo. Subtlety, thy name is Rosen. We cut through the shuk (which was reasonable even on a Thursday) and stopped at Power Coffeworks at which I got a most pleasant decaf on ice. 26 NIS. I just noticed that across from this place is a "Kuba Bar." I'm cukoo for kubas so I might have to walk through there at some point and try it out. So many restaurants, so little time.

I intended to nap but all those silly reels aren't going to watch themselves so I did my part and scrolled through them for a bit. I also did laundry. I never realized just how depressing doing laundry can be. Not regular laundry which is quite catahrtic, but this laundry. So why did this trigger me sadness? Why did it creep into the corners of my foresight? Well, I'm glad you asked. Once I started folding the foldables, I realized that it made sense to put everything in to my suitcase in an organized fashion (and I'm all about fashion).  So I actually started packing. I began that month long deceleration towards earth so that Sunday will be a little less hectic. I also (while I was sulking about it) set up a ride back from the airport on Monday morning. This is depressing. I'm seriously having one of the best vacations and it will all have to end soon. Snif snif. Yes, I hope to come back and maybe even in the future, and maybe someday make my stay a touch more permanent but as for this trip, my time is running out. I succumbed to my neuroses and set up clothes for tomorrow, Shabbat and Sunday because that's when this will all be a low carb wrap.

To sum up: Yoni is going to take drum lessons, Eyal is on the road to film stardom, Avital will be a famous singer, Rafi will make cookies and build a computer out of them (your cookies have a computer). Eli will drive a truck and Nava will handle the PR. (side stories about Nava...she was a waitered an event last night and has decided that waitering is not for her. Tonight she went to a silent disco which she thought was 18+ and she was going to have to sneak in. It turned out it was 18- and she spent the evening getting hit on by 13 year olds. That last detail may not be entirely true. But maybe.) Anyway, the six of them are like the Partridge family, but talented.

Ori came by. Hi Ori! I ate pretzels and we prepared for the evening's skating excursion.We got onto a 7 bus at 5:15 and headed to First Station and the local rink for the Jerusalem On Ice festival or something like that. The First Station looked much livelier and less abandoned once people were there and it wasn't abandoned. There was a bouncy house, but many of the kids were priced out of it and had to use the bouncy apartment. We got into the rink and saw that an ice hockey session was still on the ice. So we lined up to get our skates. Apparently, 10.5 in base UK is 44 so I got some 44's. All the skates were hockey skates (which I have never used before) so, no toe pick.

Skating is tough and tiring. Did you know that guys and gals who play hockey have to skate the whole time and not fall down? Crazy, right? Gone are the days when I could skate passably for hours, come off the ice for a bagel, and then skate some more. Now, I skate haltingly and when I'm done, I am so done. But watching the kids was neat. Avital and Eyal went from fearful to fearless, Yoni worked on helping others in a very altruistic ways and Eli and Rafi skated like pros. I guess the secret training in the IDF is ice skating. I did feel like the skates had not been sharpened in ever, and the ice surface wasn't cleaned and resurfaced after the hockey session so that's why I wasn't an expert. I blame the tools. In the rink it wasn't nearly as cold as I feared it would be. It was refreshingly cool, like me!

Some things are international -- at the rink there were many people of all ages, many beginners (small kids who have never seen ice and knots of pre-teens and teens, and senior citizens). There were parents with kids of all ages, and the one figure skater doing spins in the center. Plus there were the skate bums -- the 9 year olds who skate better than most everyone else and the twenty-somethings who were weaving in and out of traffic and freaking out the lesser skaters with hockey stops and showing off. Ther was also one wobbly 54 year old tourist trying not to embarrass himself. I left the ice after 35 just to sit and enjoy the coolth. Sure, those guys can skate but can they provide the scansion of a poem? That's my jam and is an equally useful life skill IMHO.

My ankles hurt. I already HAD them on ice and that's why they hurt. I think I think that I should put skating on ice. Much like on the streets there were people of all cultures, colors, religions and levels of religiosity. If I had taken a picture of the assembled masses, you would be shocked, shocked I say. Chasidim, non-Jews and everything in between. And many of them could skate.

For dinner, David took Eli, Rafi, Yoni and Avital to Captain, while Nomi and I took Eyal to Fioro (Fresh Pasta and Pizza Bar). Eyal got a salad (huh?) and a fettuccine in a pink sauce. I toyed with getting a pizza but opted for two appetizers (eggpplant parmesan and fried risotto balls) while Nomi got the creamy risotto. The eggplant dish was hot and delicious. The risotto balls were crunchy on the outside and creamy inside, quote good. Nothing had an inventive or revolutionary  flavor -- it was homey and comforting. The place was busy but still well maintained and run. But as a side note, the pizza looked really good.

We had taken the 7 bus there but took the 18 back, but because of a stuck bus, heavy traffic and a new set of roues in order to create more pedestrian-only streets, it turned into a 7 mid trip. That's called science, kids.

Back at home and I listened to Eli, Rafi, Nava and Ori chat in a mix of Hebrew and English and I soaked it all in. It was a good day.

A Slice of Heaven

I am not one for birthdays. Don't like 'em. I don't celebrate mine and don't expend many brain cells remembering anyone else's. Why do we focus on one day to celebrate someone, especially someone who did nothing to deserve it and just laid there screaming when it happened? If people want to know when to be nice to me, I suggest that they just be a little nicer everyday and don't hide behind the birthday concept to justify being a jerk on any other day.

I also feel that way about secular "days." Why live by the man's rules and sit in the box with you sheep, waiting until the calendar tells me it is OK to thank a veteran or be proud of who you are. I work to recognize all that is around me everyday and make each day special. With that in mind I decided to focus today on pizza. I really, really like pizza.

Before I started on my pizza hop (like a bunny hop but replace carrots with garlic powder) I wanted to find that book store that was recommended to me by that other bookstore. If you didn't read yesterday's blog in which I mentioned the bookstore, go back and read it. It mentions a bookstore and another bookstore. It's like you were actually there, right? I found it and went inside. The proprietor was honestly confused as to why his store was recommended because he doesn't deal with sidddurim but he did say that I could check in a bin in the basement. In it I found some really neat books that would have been too heavy to get back to the US. The guy asked for my phone number which I felt was a bit forward, having just met, and when I told him that mine was a US number he backed off. I knew he wasn't serious about me, so I left empty handed but happy because bookstore. 

David had recommended that I start  at a pizza place near the Great Synagogue (star of "It's the Great Synagogue, Charlie Brown!") called Gvina v'Agvaniyah (Cheese and Tomato). It was open, as evidenced by my ability to walk into it. It lacked any people, though. This was noon, and all good people know that noon is a wonderful time for pizza, assuming you have finished with your 10AM and 11AM pizzas. A man emerged and I asked about pizza. There was none, but if I waited 10 minutes, he would have some. I told him that I would try to come back (but heck, time is pizza). I then officially tried but my feet insisted that they beat a path to the otherwise. So in sum, my review: very low calorie but lacking in flavor.

On my walk back towards Ben Yehuda, an Israeli couple (you can just tell) asked me for directions in Hebrew. Joke's on them because I'm an idiot. I feel doubly sad for them; bad enough they think I know Hebrew, but to rely on me for anything related to geography is a really bad idea. Based on what I told them in English, they are currently walking to Tel Aviv. They made their choice.

I passed a store called "Dead Sea Wonders" so I figure that they sell salt and the ability to float.

After a failure at the book store and the pizza place, I finally hit pay-pizza. I found the Pizza Hut (I'm against shacks, but I'm open to the idea of huts). I knew the sauce would be sweet but for the experience, I wanted to try it. While I was hoping to establish a standard purchase, this store only had a thick crust medium sized pizza so I used that. The crust was fluffy and not really crispy and the sauce was, indeed, sweet. But it is a reasonable slice if you have never had pizza before. And today, I hadn't. Also, you might be concerned about my slating today for the pizza hop because I did have the meat pizza at dinner last night, but I'm in Jerusalem so, in accordance with Jewish law, the day begins in the evening before so, yeah. On the side, I got a COKE Zero because after getting 1 (count 'em, 1) hour of sleep, caffeine is my friend. Until it isn't but that's a later-me problem. Later me is typing this up, cursing then-me. Why can't we all just get along?

My review of this pizza: my reaction might be clouded by the lingering flavor of toothpaste and insomnia in my mouth. It was 12:30 and the store was still empty. One slice was 12NIS and the soda was 9.90. The ardboard was cool looking, with the Pizza Hut name and logo on it. It was shaped somewhat like a slice of pizza (in Israel, you don't get a plate, you get a piece of cardboard on which to hold your slice because in the middle east, trees grow different).

Next up, I found a place called "Pizza Kim'at Chinam" (apparently affectionately known as "Kim'at Pizza"). While there were two guys working there, they were doing nothing related to the production of pizza. So far, I was 1 for 3 which is an inauspicious way to start. Do people not eat pizza until 1PM here? That's so very wrong. Another place called "Craft" listed pizza on the window but it looked like one of those upscale places that gives you artisinal napkins and thinks you can call a foccacia "pizza" and that makes it so. I kept walking.

I made it to the bottom of Yafo and turned to head back up, finding Pizza Mamila almost immediately. The cardboard here is just a simple rectangle and the crust looks store bought and is wicked sweet. It has potential but it never truly lives up to its potential. Maybe if it tried harder or did more homework. And somehow my pizza got confused with every parent teacher conference my parents ever went to to discuss my middling existence. The cheese (on the pizza...we're back to the pizza now) was so-so and the sauce was mostly missing. And the guy served it to me cold and never volunteered to heat it up. I chose not to say anything because I knew that if I was able to communicate the idea of "oven, hot pizza" to him, I would lose valuable righteous indignation points. He should have known to ask. So there. The slice was 10NIS (maybe heat was extra) and the most appealing qualityies were that it had pizza available before 1PM and had a great view of the old city walls. (once you left the store).

Anthony's Pizza caught my eye from a distance and I figured if it's called Anthony's Pizza it probably has pizza. That's called a "tell." These are more "authentic" pizzas. Authentic pizzas are not really round -- more blob shaped, like me so I felt seen. They have basil leaves on them and just scream "rustic." The young woman behind the counter sounded American and asked me if I wanted the slice heated up. Two points for Pizza-dor. The "slice" was a rectangle but to compensate, she put it next to the cardboard and not on it. 16 NIS. It was a good decision not to put it on the cardboard because it was a thinner and flimsier than it should be. The slice was tangy and fancy. The cheese had a buttery aftertaste and a rectangular fancy slice can't be folded easily until there is almost none left. Sauce here also was very understated, more seen than heard and the basil asserted itself at odd moments. I ate with a knife and fork (had to make a shehechyanu on that).

Rony's Pizza was next. 12 NIS and they give you 1 napkin. Most places didn't have any so there's that. The slice looked like a regular slice but it was WAY too sweet. I didn't order a dessert pizza fella. It was hard to assess individual flavors because of the sweetness which is a pity because it looked like it should be good. On a scale of one to ten I would weigh a lot. Side note -- I really gotta get me one of them electric scooters. Half the world is uphill at any given time and having an electric scooter would level the playing field.  Back to the pizza, the cardboard was the standard white rectangle (SWR in singles ads) and was much better at being pizza than the pizza was.

Then off to Big Apple Pizza. 15 NIS (plus I got a water). Very thin crust and not sweet at all. More pronounced salty notes, and almost a half whole-wheat vibe thing going on. The closest so far to a slice I would recognize in the US of Pizza. To clarify, the slice is not especially big, nor is it made with apples, big or otherwise. It is weird to say but after my slices, the one with the best crust and overall flavor was the meat one from last night with big Apple coming in second. The Big Apple slice was accompanied by a SWR but the napkins read "Big Apple Pizza" on them so, ohh la la. As I reached the edge of my slice, I bit into something unpleasantly spicy. I called a 2 minute minor for "spicening". It was not fancy, but BAP is the old reliable for we furriners.

By this time I had had my fill. It was 1:40 and I had downed about 5 slices so I headed back. That much pizza on an Ashkenazic stomach is like playing Russian Roulette with a pizza. And the pizza goes first.. Best safety lies in a bed and access to indoor plumbing. AS I walked back, I feared seeing another pizza place as I would have felt obligated to try it out and that would not have ended well for, well, anyone. I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eyes and I knew that closing my eyes and blundering forth was not an option so made sure not to make eye contact and turned to walk the other way. I cut through the shuk hoping that, on the one path I took, I would not come across any pizza paces. The shuk was busy but negotiable. Inside it was so vibrant alive and colorful. They had every possible color of Gummi Worm. So exotic.

I returned to find Yoni had returned from his trip to the US. I asked him for an update on my country tis of it and he explained that it was hot. Parsing that report should take me ost of the night. I decided to sleep on it. After my nap, I spent time with the family and Nomi and I worked on the Social Security issue. With Judah H's help we got in touch with a passport office and a nice woman gave us some new avenues towards resolution. Huzzah! The system works as long as you call in favors and ask no questions.

For dinner we were to have pizza. David was making from scratch and it was this decision that prompted the day's walk. I wanted to be able to assess his in the light of all the others I had tried. So I did and I must say, his wins by a wide margin. The edge of the crust had risen and was crusty and crunchy. The cheese was really good and the sauce just tasted "right" y'know? Also, there was corn meal on the bottom, so points for authenticity. I scarfed down a few slices, pronounced him the victor (and Nomi the Victoria?) and startred thinking about when I should begin not sleeping.

I might still go to another place or two tomorrow (second day of Yom Tov because I'm an American only here on vacation). Or I might not. This is the essence of free will. I have no idea what I'm doing until I read about what I did.

I'm Like Israeli weather now:

 Clear and hot and not a cloud in this guy. Boo? Yeah.

Eyal shared some pretzels with me and that was a good lunch. We discussed the similarities between pretzels and Oreos. One is a sandwich and the other can go on a sandwich. One is salty, the other sweet. And Eyal concluded with "you can't kill an Oreo with a pretzel gun." Wise, wise words.

I had arranged with the Oshins for a 6:15 reservation at Mojo's, a 20 minute walk away, so I left the house at 5PM. That is a bit later than I would normally leave but I'm on vacation.

Sometimes the familiar is shaken up by the smallest of changes. Tiny choices which seem inconsequential make a huge difference. On my walk, I decided to cross the street later than I usually do and walk on the other side. I also decided to walk on one block over for a short time. Because of that, I saw shops I haven't ever seen. I discovered a bookstore I heretofore was unaware of. I am still looking to find a specific old siddur so i walked in to ask. The proprietor was very friendly, set up a hotspot so I could download the picture I have to show him and when he was unfamiliar with it, recommended another shop where I might have more success. Really nice of him. I know what I'm doing tomorrow. Eating pizza. But also going to a different bookstore.

He heard from my lack-cent that I was American and he asked "Where are you from?" I am finding that question harder and harder to answer these days. Where AM I from? Where do I belong? What does the question even mean? Not sure but I hope the answer involves pizza.

I crossed over to Ben Yehuda to continue my deliberate stroll. This is the essence of vacation -- walking slowly and just celebrating being here or anywhere I happen to be. I stopped to watch a really religious looking giuy absolutely shred on his electric guitar (took a video but accidentally erased it and I don't know how to recover a trashed video). I watched as cars didn't really move out of the way of an ambulance that had its lights and sirens on. A couple moved aside but most sped up, trying to stay ahead of the ambulance, expecting everyone in front to move out of the way.

Even without a data connection, I found my way to ShlomTziyon Hamalka. On the map, sometimes complicated and distant routes are actually short and easy and sometimes, places that seem right next to each other require a heckuva walk to get to and from each other. Mojo's is next to Harvey's Burger Shack. I am glad that I am not to be eating in a shack. Sounds dreadful I arrived at 5:52 so I sat and basked. It isn't that there is an inordinate or especially unusual number of flies in Jerusalem. It is that the ones who live there are unnaturally obsessed with me. Sure, it is flattering, but ultimately annoying. There are a bunch of other restaurants in the same block (Noya, Kadosh, Yam Suf etc). All are kosher and all are on this one little section of a fairly small street. Turn a corner and 5 more appear. That's pretty cool. After all my visits, I'm still finding new alleys, and new places to try.

At 6:15 the Oshins appeared and huzzah, the Oshins appeared! We walked in and went up the up stair case to sit. There was a conference on the mound and we decided to forego appetizers and order three items from the rest of the menu, so we were planning on a meat pizza, a main, and a set of wagyu sliders. Then the waitress (a former Frisch student! Shoutout to the Shatzkes family!) told us it was taco Tuesday so we shifted from sliders to tacos. Plus we got a pizza called "Thee Animal" (with, according to the menu, "animal onions") and a serving of KFC (Korean Fried Chicken). The tacos were a bit spicy but delish and the spice was at just the right level. The pizza was fantastic, with a great crust and tasty toppings. The chicken was good but what really sold it to me was the rice. It wasn't fancy but do you know the last time I had any rice? I don't, so please send the information to me. Sharon and Jeff has small tastings of 3 beers and then made their choices (1 IPA, 1 Pils) and I had a Sprite Zero. I should be a spokesman for Sprite Zero. He, Sprite Zero people, I love your product. Please send me some free stuff and I will influence myself to drink more.

The food was good and the conversation and company were great. We traded stories about our kids, got caught up on lives and just relaxed. You should go, and on a Tuesday. And with the Oshins! Normally, meal would end there because I am gun shy as it applies to Israeli desserts. Somehow they put nuts in everything. But Mojo's is very allergen aware and the waitresses really know their business and can get answers they don't have at the ready. I was assured that there were no nuts in the Hot Chocolate Souffle. So I got that and it was nice to be able to eat a dessert. The Oshins got lemon curd with pistachios on it. I was told that I could get it without the pistachios but I kept looking at the description and was unable to find the word "chocolate" in it. Also, "curd"? Thanks no thanks.

Then a cool and relaxing slow stroll back here, another choice I recommend.

Meat, Eli

Eli is my nephew. We'll get back to him later.

I am writing this the next day which has not been my schedule but we learn to learn so tomorrow is now.

Nomi and I had a day. And what a glorious day it was. First stop was first station. We took the 78 bus. That's a lot of bus but she is a seasoned traveler so there's that. We got there before noon so the place was empty. After twelve there are people but I'm not a rule follower. And I don't like people. The first store was a tourist trap. Nomi had to unstick me from the glue and I didn't get any cheese. I did see a shirt there that said "I am a happy meal" and considered buying it for someone, but for 189 NIS? I don't like anyone that much. My steak dinner was 188 and was a happy meal.

Pro tip -- if you need wifi at first station, try to connect to the various wifis using the password 10203040. But if you connect to the wifi from a meat restaurant you have to wait six hours before you connect to one from a dairy place. We went into an Organic Food store to enjoy the organic air conditioning. I bought some stuff made from bamboo and from sugar so if I am attacked by a panda, dude's getting diabetes. Back outside. We played the game "the floor is lava" because that's what it felt like. It was warm out. Did I mention that?

Eventually, after walking up and down and seeing all the nothing, we went to Captain Burger. You can make all the "captain" jokes you want. I'm not doing the work here. Anyway, I chose this restaurant because they have smash burgers and I am a fan of food based violence and violence based food. I got a triple burger with stuff on it, and a Sprite Zero. Nomi got a double with less stuff and a water on the side. All in all it cost less than a tourist shirt and the shirt promised no violence. Peace sells, but who's buying? (h/t Megadeth). As in many eaterias the ordering is done at an electronic kiosk and then they give you food that really isn't what you asked for but you can't complain to an electronic kiosk so this really streamlines the annoyance. The food was yummy but where were my onion rings? I guess we'll never know. We ordered mixed fries (misfrynation?) which was ostensibly a combination of crinkle cut sweet potato fries and steak fries. Instead they gave us shoestring fries. Between bites we grumbled. I didn't realize anything was missing or wrong until I was almost done so it would have been wrong to try and get any sort of discount or revenge. Bottom line: smash burgers, they aren't not for breakfast anymore. As burgers go (which is "into my mouth and down into my stomach") this meal went very nicely. This place apparently sells 3-D printed meat but I usually get full after 2 D's and a B so I stuck with the stuff made from a once alive cow and left the technology for the next guy.

Pro fact I just made up -- there are so many restaurants at First station that all you do is chew, chew.

We walked down the tracks and turned left to Kinyon Hadar in Talpiyot (there is no fish restaurant there called Tilapiyot but there should be). We had no real need to shop but the promise of air conditioning is seductive. Did I mention it was warm?

We found a store called "Flying Tiger" and I bought tchochkes from Denmark which is exactly what the name indicated I could buy there. In the mall there is an ingrown toenail center which I find to be a really niche specialty. I mean, not everyone has toes. There was also a store called Mazi Paris which I very much misread. Why would you have a store called "Mazi Haris." Crazy, right?

Once I was thinking of Germany, I wondered how fast German supersonic jet fighters travel. I figured that they go Mach Schnell. The mall has between 2 and 6 floors of clothing stores, fruit smoothie stores, eyeglass huts and ingrown toenail clinics. I can see why it is such a hit with tourists. I came for the A/C but stayed for the A/C. I bought a large bottle of water and a box of Oreos that were labeled Parve. I think I will save them and show them off when I return to the US.

Outside to the 34 bus, which is less than half the 78 as buses go (which is into my mouth and...forget that). Two stops and we were in Emek Refa'im where I changed some dollars into shekels (poof!) and considered making them disappear. We looked into shops and walked through Bell Park. If anything ever happens to Philadelphia there is a backup bell there. We saw Jerry the Dragon. He was breathing fire to cool down. Did I mention it was warm? I saw the King David hotel, and we made small talk with a guy in an art store. He was making much bigger talk ($6,800 for a painting I liked but he said he would ship it for free. What a deal, right?) Time to head home.

As we got to the top of Bezalel, Eli (he's my nephew) called and needed us to pick something up from the apothecaryist. We turned back and went to 2 different Superpharms and a perfumeria but we emerged victorious with saline eye drops and spongy Super Floss. If a worker in Israel says that a product doesn't actually exist, go to another store. It exists. Trust me. WE made it back home without any further phone calls and I saw Eli. He's my nephew and he's a truck driver in the army. You thought the trucks drove themselves? They might I guess. But he's a truck driver.

Eli and I decided to go to the shuk. He is a burgeoning expert in mac and cheese and exactly the kind of guide I needed at the moment. I happen to be on a quest to find a good mac and cheese so this was fortuitous. I know that Wacky Mac is the gold standard (orange, really, but I know so few standard oranges) but I'm looking for a solid second choice when I'm aweigh from home. Aweigh means "without weight" and is the term for not being on a diet while on vacation. If a restaurant were to open in the shuk and serve Wacky Mac it would sell out every day. At Pasta Basta (which is Italian for Pasta Basta) I ordered the 4 cheese dish. I added on mozzarella balls and it came with a packet of parmesan cheese for me to add. I'm unclear as to whether that made it a 5 or six cheese dish or simply a 4 cheese dish with reinforcements.  It was ok but not as thick and creamy as I had dreamt it would be. I had added eggplant and mushrooms so it was basically health food. Eli got gnocchi with a red sauce (his review was "ok") and he also helped me finish my food. Wash it down with a San Miguel beer. 167NIS.

Next, to a bar (called Barbara). I have been to an actual bar once in my life and that was on an earlier trip to Israel. If you order a drink, you ask for a chaser even though it is the first thing you drink. I think it is actually pronounced חסר because it is really small.. I tried their fanciest vodka ("Beluga").  Meh. Next to Beer Bazaar for a Black Jack stout and better vodka. We struck up a conversation with an air force major named Asaf. He lived in many places, including England so he had a lot of cool accents but between them and the blaring music, I couldn't understand much of what he said. He recommended I try something called Grappa and something called Cha Cha (it's Georgian for rotgut). He prefers Irish Whiskeys (for peat's sake).

Then to Zalman's for a corn dog. They were out of corn dogs so they must have been good. Eli (that's my nephew) told me that there was another Zalman's in town so off we went towards Yaffo. They had corn dogs so we ate them. A little sweet but very nice and the stick came in handy when I needed something to break. Then to Mike's place. My previous visits were confined to the upstairs and the middle level where they hide the bathroom and washing station. Tonight we descended the remainder of the stairs and sat at the bar. It was hopping (though it might have only felt that way because of the previous drinks). They had a gluten free Stoli so I had to try that, and a Guinness because, Guinness. It was packed and still not as loud as the shuk places. Live music was a guy with a guitar singing songs I vaguely knew. I had to explain to the barkeep (a woman named Shira who spoke English with no accent because she was from New York; I never actually heard her speak any Hebrew so for all I know, she can't speak Hebrew) what a Vodka Collins is and then she made one for me. A soccer match (Maccabi Tel Aviv vs. Maccabi Petach Tikvah) was on. Israeli game. Israeli coverage but the jerseys had names in English. Weird. It is both harder and easier to watch soccer after watching 3 seasons of Ted Lasso. I know what to look for but I couldn't find Roy Kent. He is supposed to be EVERYWHERE. You know you have had the right amount to drink when watching soccer is interesting. So I drank more.

Reportedly, we made it home. Tonight is my dinner with the Oshins (forward to which I am looking) and meanwhile I shall nurse the hangover with more care than I nursed the drinks.

Sunday Funday

Breakfast is a strange thing -- not in general, but to me, because I never eat it, the entire concept and the choices around it are strange. Today, one of my goals was to eat breakfast and by golly, I was gonna make sure to do it. I slept but little last night so I'm as fresh as I usually am. I felt that it was too early for pizza (blasphemy to certain of you, no doubt), but I wanted to be dairy because I didn't know what my lunch options would be. I wanted something of substance, not just a pastry. I don't even LIKE psatry. What the heck is a pastry, anyway? And don't get me started on Danishes. Sneaky little buggers.

I also didn't want to go to Sam's Bagels again; it is yummy but I need to spread the love around and there must be many options. I was wrong about that. I know what I don't want but I'm not sure what I do want. Short story short I chose to go back to Gan Sipor because:

I enjoyed it so much the last time I was there. We shall never speak of the kalamata incident again.

It close to Nomi and David's.

I love the cobalt blue water bottles.

The walk there is almost all downhill. Cut me some slack. I didn't sleep much and the prospect of walking uphill on an empty stomach didn't sit well with me.

I came in to the restaurant and was immediately ignored, as is the local custom. I was asked if I had a reservation (the place was near empty) and when I said "no" I was told, "OK, one moment." And then they ghosted me for a few minutes until I repeated this dance with another hostess. I was shown to my table and told I had until 11:45. It was 10. I should be good. You know what would have been good for breakfast? Dunkin, that's what.

I was asked my allergies by my server, which was a new one to me. Then she asked for a urine sample and my mother's maiden name and I requested that she keep it all business for the moment. I couldn't get her to understand the idea of a cup of no-sugar-no-lemon-no-outside-flavor iced tea. The menu says that they have fresh made iced tea but when I asked for just ice and cold, she kept asking "what kind?" When I asked for a tea bag in water but cold, she indicated that such a thing simply could not be done. I gave up on tea and tried to describe an iced coffee without using the words "ice coffee" because I have learned that if I say that in Israel,  I would get some sort of horrible slushie. Gross. I convinced her to bring me a cup of black coffee and a separate cup of ice -- like a fancy, deconstructed iced coffee which I assemble at the table with, no doubt, IKEA like directions.

She returned to tell me that my appetizer (a cheesy bread with dipping sauces) is made in a factory that uses nuts. I pulled out my Benadryl and slapped it on the table like I was raising and going all in. She also said that the black bread had nuts in it so I opted for the whiter bread with my main (a frittata - neither free nor a tata. Discuss). When I told her my order, she confirmed that I knew that a frittata is a ________ [something in Hebrew]. I felt like saying, "ma'am, I'm clearly American and am using the English menu. What makes you think that you will clear up my comprehension of a word by giving me the Hebrew equivalent? If I knew it in Hebrew, don't you think I have said something? So anyway, white bread but I mental promise to think depressing thoughts while I ate it.

Also, I'm getting regular coffee. It isn't that I don't fear what the caffeine will do to me but I sense that I would have had no success explaining "decaf". And it is morning and I have no place not to be so caution to the wind, I say. A coffee! Assemble!

The cheesy bread was good and the three sauces were yummy but ony one approached "tangy" or "tingly." None was spicy in any meaningful sense. Did I need both an appetizer and a main for breakfast? Yes. Yes I did.

And the service was really good. At one point, the waitress came over and took the dirtied napkin that I had on my lap and gave me a new one so I wouldn't be uncomfortable (her word). I don't know what she meant and wouldn't think to be uncomfortable because I wiped my face on a napkin but now she has me worried that I should be uncomfortable. All in all, a really delicious meal. I can tell it was good because I didn't miss dessert when I skipped it and, though I was stuffed, I still eyed every plate that came out thinking, "Darn! I could have gotten that!" Roll me home, Jeeves. 118 NIS plus a well-deserved tip.

I walked back to the house. The temp was in the upper 80's (that's 28ish in centipede). There was a comfy breeze and I had a goofy grin on my face as I enjoyed the meal and the weather and the day. People stared at me because I was the smiling idiot wearing the long sleeve shirt. They aren't used to seeing me smile.

I got back and decided to try to take a nap and watch Reels instead. There are, by my count, only 3 recipes on the internet at any one time. For each one there are 16 million reaction videos in which people don't believe the recipe works so they make comments as they watch an earlier video and then try it themselves and react. Then someone reacts to that. It is all very cannibalistic, but that's how science looks to any sufficiently undeveloped culture. Half an hour of that and a young man's fancy turns to lunch. One cannot take one's foot off of the gustatory pedal. Eating everything requires constant vigilance. David and I took off to "Tommy's" on KKL. The walk there was uphill both ways even though we only went one way. That's the prime example of faith and I have it in spades. I ordered crsipy chicken nuggets and a Sprite Zero (no lemonade on the menu). David got wings and a burger and we shared onion rings. 176 NIS.

I noted that religion is so engrained in public life that it is part of the secular world's natural mode of expression. Popular songs use religious language if not entire verses. Motivational speeches quote from the Jewish texts. I noticed the guy behind the counter (long beard and kippah on different parts of his head) said to a customer (no kippah at all, tatoos etc) "Hashem should bless you" and the other guy smiled and said "amen.' There was no acrimony, no judgment, no offense given or taken. No one felt pressured or threatened.

We took the road more easily traveled on the way back. It was time for an afternoon's relaxing by watching videos and not sleeping. Then Natasha Batsheva came over with her youngest (cha cha or chooch, not Tzippy the pin head...yet) to say hi and pick up stuff I transported into the holy land for her. This was my first time meeting the bebe. Lovely girl and so is the baby. We caught up between episodes of child watching. During the meet, I set up my dinner with the Lauderdales at an Asian restaurant. How exotic.

The restaurant is "Super Mizrachi" which is exactly what I would call a fancy Asian place (narrowly beating out 'Awesome Orient'). From the outside you see a little Asian bodega (do those have a different name?) which you walk into and, if you don't squeeze in properly, you get an imprint of rice flakes and seaweed candy on your back. There is another door at the back and it leads into another dimension of lights, opulence and air conditioning.  Man, those Asians know what they are doing. I ate with the Lauderdales and Marci.

Senja got a poke bowl with intense flavors of mango, beets and Asian bamboo. There was seasonal fruit and raw salmon -- reportedly, the proportions were good. Aunt Marci got "Avocato" which is an avocado roll with sweet potato in it. Its protein was cooked salmon and there was nothing in it she didn't like. Huzzah!

Steve and I wore our entrecotes proudly -- his a medium rare and mine the more common simple medium. The plates were on platforms, like a cake plate. I didn't think it necessary because the steak was tall enough already, but ego and vanity ruled the day. For dessert, Steve had Musi Musi, a boldly chocolate mousse with brownies and sprinkled with something which, I have bo doubt, would send me to the shelter of my little pink pills. It was all topped with olive oil (RIP Shelly Duvall) and served in a plate that looks like I made in camp. When I was 8. And drunk.

The conversation, about life, kids, memories and memories yet to be made was warm, funny and really appreciated. Kudos to you kiddos and thanks for the evening out. Senja drove me back and here I am, ready to fail at sleeping again.

The Rest of the Day

A peaceful Shabbat has ended. I'll catch you all up.

We began with davening at Kol Rina, the shul administered by the Swidler family (Rafi davened Friday night and David did most everything else). Then back for dinner. Guests were Ori, a friend of Nava's and a former student of mine, and a lovely couple from Australia. There was much discussion during the meal (a delicious chicken, veggies, potatoes and a sweet potato bread from another planet, cinnamon pastries, chocolate pastries and home made chocolate chip oatmeal cookies for dessert) and regardless of my opinion about the gentleman's opinion, I couldn't argue with his accent. I just listened so I would be immersed in the outback experience but without the spiders the size of my head. Also, they have winter now which is, I believe, a very shrewd scheduling mood. Why have winter when it is already cold. They have it now, when it is really hot so that it isn't hot. Good on you. Put another Ken on the Barbie or whatever is you people do.

After dinner, Rafi and I went to walk around Gan Sacher.  The evening was warm and the time was midnight plus. The park was full of people of all cultures and all ages doing all sorts of things. We watched a cricket game (they totally make the rules up as they go), some soccer, kids on bikes and scooters, families eating entire meals, a playground full of children on swings and slides, and so on. It was 12:30AM and the place was full of activity and children playing as if it was 12:30 in the afternoon. It was crazy to watch. 

Watching people brought up a question of Jewish law for which I don't have an answer. In general, guns fall under a category of "don't mess with it on shabbat." I mean, we all know that in an emergency, one may run to the comfort of the ol' peacemaker but if it isn't an emergency, I was taught that guns are a no go on the sabbath. I also know that soldiers who are required to carry guns when they are out and about are allowed to carry guns, and I'm ok with this. However, it seems to me that carrying a gun outside should be an exception invoked when one has to go somewhere. So if there is no emergency, I don't need to go anywhere -- a realization which would keep me from moving a gun unnecessarily. As I understand it, when exceptions are made, we are not supposed to exploit them. Sure you can drive to the hospital, but don't turn on the radio. So it would seem to me that the average soldier at home would need his gun when he went to synagogue because there is the religious obligation to pray with a quorum if one is available. But a post midnight stroll with a sweetie? That seems like a choice, not any sort of Shabbos obligation. So to choose to take a late night walkie-walk which would then require that one carries his gun seems like an exploitation of the exception. I'm not saying that the soldiers have to stay locked in their houses -- if their food is elsewhere and they have to walk to have a meal then I guess that works. But a purely optional walkabout? Seems excessive. I'm no religious expert but this made me wonder.

Also, while I was out, a couple of people at different times asked me things. In Hebrew. Sure, I'm flattered that they think I speak Hebrew, but I pity anyone who comes to me for information in ANY language. There isn't a language in the world in which I can be especially helpful or know what I'm talking about.

I slept late in the morning so I missed shul but I got up and tried to join the human race before lunch. Today's guests included Ateret and her 2 kids (Moosh and Shmoosh, I believe I was told). Lovely time -- tuna steaks, 3 (at least) different quiches, sweet potatoes with other potatoes in it, home made challah and who knows what else. Then a choice of ice creams and sorbets for dessert. Between the delicious food and the wonderful conversation the cost of the lunch was "priceless." Then for the afternoon, I sat with Nomi and looked through old pictures, realizing how few people I know and how many facts I am unaware of. Did you know that my dad's hat size was 7 and an eighth? I didn't. Now you know -- awesome feeling, right?

Trigger warning -- the next joke may seem rather dark to people but I thought it was funny:

There were a few mosquitoes around and I hate being bitten by skeeters. I was reminded of what my grandfather used to say to do -- bite them back. I guess this would make the mosquitoes feel what I'm feeling. But the more efficient way for them to reach that level of empathy would be if I sprayed them with bug spray so that they will hate themselves and not want to be around themselves for the rest of the day.

I had a really nice time being with family, sharing memories, explaining things to kids, joking about, well everything and then some. Mincha and maariv at Kol Rina also (I got an aliyah!) and then back to the house. Tomorrow begins a new week and I'm looking forward to eating more food!

In brevitas veritas

 A quick pre shabbos note. Today I took a vacation from my vacation from my vacation. There was little sleep had last night and the day promised a temperature of a million and six so I decided t shirt and sweats while I sit around and schmooze with family. Had some cereal, had a cookie, drank some cold water, spoke to my kids and did a crossword. Guests at dinner tonight will be the unknown Australians and tomorrow's people include Violet and Her Girls (who are also doing a residency at MSG).

Stay peaceful all. See you on the flip side. 

Walking the Walk, Talking the truck

Last night, I got to sleep at about 10:45 and was up at 2:47. Then, awake til 3:30, and back to sleep (with various short breaks) until 9:30! Not too shabby. That benadryl does good work. Buy stock in that, people.

I had an actual "bright side" thought. This proves that I'm on vacation. So here's the thought -- going bald means that I don't have to pack a comb. Imagine how over-weight my bags would have been otherwise!

Rafi and I jaywalked to the 15 bus and got honked at only once. The neat part was that the honker didn't really slow down or anything. The bus was 6 NIS -- thanks for the Rav Kav, Mads! I overheard a completely representative Hebrew conversation:

Person 1: מה עניינים?

Person 2: מה המצב?

Person 1: מה קורה?

Person 2: ואיתך?

exeunt

That was an actual conversation that I heard on the bus. Tell the NY Times. That's a real Metro Life kind of thing.

I woke and started getting ready and here's the joke I wrote: I just walked in from Jerusalem and boy do my calves hurt.

Maybe it isn't so much of a joke but all day, I found that when I sat for a bit, my calves seized up. Huzzah.

We made our way to 22 Kovshei Katamon which is a building on a street near the bus we took. I have no more details except that there is a door and a staircase. Get the picture? I delivered some letters from students to someone who will, we hope, get them to the army peoples to show support. Also, I slipped a couple of ungraded papers in there so I hope the soldiers, y'know, scratch my back, and grade them for me. After the bus ride, it struck me that if we called it "traffique" it would seems so much more exotic and no one would mind it.

The streets in Jerusalem seem to have been laid out at a time before there were people. Not before there were people there, but before the idea of people was created.  We took the 13 bus back to King George, but the only thing crazier than the road layout is the bus drivers. Those streets and the corners are really small and the drivers are gods of the ridiculous and negotiate the turns with a minimum of casualties. we were on this street and there was a left turn only land. It wasn't the left lane. It was the middle lane and you couldn't turn left from the left lane. Unpack that one, Doc.

We went to Sam's Bagels for lunch. Each of us (Rafi and I) got bagels with stuff on them and a drink. 98 Shekels. I remembered how much I like a good lemonade. This was a good lemonade. I did learn the truism that "grammar is for immigrants" as I heard native speakers use constructions that would have (and probably did) get me low grades in Hebrew class. I discovered that I still had my roaming data on so there goes another 10 bucks. I figured I would exploit it since I was already paying for the use.

A note about the heat -- I recall that post-partum women make a goal of a single thing to do each day. I approahed it the same way. My goal is to stay in bed.

Rafi and I went into a few jewelry stores, and some book stores, and then we found a street bazaar. I looked for old American coins and found that there was a guy selling coins for 1 shekel each. He had pennies in there, but they were from the 80's and later. Those pennies are barely worth more than $.02 and he wanted the equivalent of 30 cents for them. I did find older pennies but they were in a fancy book so I'm sure he wanted more than they were worth. Rafi tried to fish out all the Euros and buy them for a shekel each and then resell them as actual Euros which would get him more in return. The guy didn't like that and chased us away with some unkind words. Not many of the jewelry store had heard or valued the brand name "Tiffany & Co." The things we think of as being valuable are so only because of brand name recognition. Take the name value away and people offer you next to nothing for a piece of jewelry that sells for hundreds of dollars.

We continued through the shuk just for fun and maybe to find another jeweler who would insult us with a low bid. We found Rafi's work and I bought a water there so that he would earn money. I'm good like that and also it was a million degrees outside. As we continued walking Rafi asked questions I have always had. The first was about the multiplicity of certain types of stores in close proximity. Opening a spice place next to a spice place or a hardware store next to a hardware store just seems like a sure fire way to make both stores go out of business. The other question was about those stores that never seemed to have any customers. How do they survive?

I might have spoken of this before, but because of twist, hilly roads and the lack of parking, it seems like people only shop for a day or two. I buy for the week, but I can drive there, park and drive home with no concern about finding a spot. In Jerusalem, a few people had granny carts but others had to suck it up and carry everything while they shopped.

I decided to give Power Coffeeworks another chance because the 12 year old wasn't working. A nice lady took my order and talked about coffee with me. She explained a long vs. a short and explained why one would prefer one over the other. I got a "longer" and it was fantastic.

Back to the house to get ready for the Food Truck Festival. I intend to eat lots of carbs (carburetors). I hope they have monster trucks but, come to think of it, I don't know what Monster Truck Food is, or even Truck monster food. But I bet it is good. Nava brought home a friend (Ori) who was also a student of mine so we chatted. And she got another student on the phone and he said he would meet us at the festival. So Ben Kohn, here's to you for coming out to the festival!

While this is all going on, Naomi and I are still trying to unpack a bit of my parents' estate. Nomi's house was owned by my parents and they filled out whatever forms they did using their passport numbers (as they had no Israeli ID number). But now to transfer the deed, the govt wants proof that the people listed by passport number are the same people separately identified with a social security number. They believe that there is a single document that has both numbers on it. And they seem to think that that document is a social security card. It isn't. So I spent much time on our walk and bus ride to the trucks of the food variety on the phone with the social security admin.  The bus was the number 7 with extra pastrami (thanks Mad!)and we took it to Beit Sefer Hamesorati. From there we walked to the אוטו אוכל at the Walter and Elise Promenade. I left my number for a call back and eventually, they got through to me (it took a few tries) and the nice lady told me that this could only be handled by my local office. So I called my local office. 30 rings later, the recorded messages and hold music began and continued until they hung up on me.

The truck festival had a dessert level and a main course level. There were about 7 or 8 van/trucks. You scan the QR code, choose the restaurant,  place your order and pay online and then you watch a fancy screen by your food truck of choice. It tells you when your order is up. Sounds nice, right? Meh. Mine was still in the "waiting" list and Nomi got a text saying it was ready. She picked it up while I was still watching the waiting list. I got 3 corndogs (which had more of a tempura batter than a good cornmeal coating but which were yummy) and fries (all-in, 50 NIS). I was certainly allergic to some of the desserts so my quest to eat everything was thwarted. Again.

The food ordering was not too horrible but the volume of people and music were both higher than my tolerance level. I got a soda (the drink purchasing required to fight to the front of the bar and then shout your order and try not to get dead. I am really bad at demanding attention so I was getting ignored until Nomi explained to the guy that I was a pathetic tourist so he should help me out. I asked for the soda and gave him 20 NIS. He gave me the soda and not the change. I was in no mood to get his attention again and ask for the 8 shekels he owed me. Nomi was not so timid and he gave me my change. Later, I was given a coupon for a free beer (I got a Carlsburg and drank a little of it before giving it to Rafi). I tried calling Hackensack again and this time, eventually a human (or maybe not, but she seemed human so who am I to judge?) answered and told me to file a Freedom of Information Act request to get the cards. She sent me to a website. I am SO glad I waited on hold for so much time. Try the internet. Brilliant!

We hopped a seven bus (thanks Mad!) and hoofed it back to the house. Now thge young people have gone out to party, or to bed or whatever else they do and I'm going to go work on a crossword puzzle and hope that I can get some sort of night's sleep. I don't know if I will update before shabbat or afterwards. Stay tuned!

A Hot Take(s)

I slept from 9.30PM to 2.45 in the morning and then I watched reels and did a crossword puzzle. Then more reels. When it was a respectable time to be awake, I showered and joined everyone else. Rafi volunteered to take me to Katamon to deliver some letters but then David volunteered to take me to the cemetery. And who can say no to a free trip to the cemetery? Not this guy, that's for sure. We drove over, under around and through and made it to the cemetery in what was probably record time. Next came the elevator trip down. An elevator in a cemetery is strange. I don't think that my parents moved their eternal resting place but somehow it wasn't where I remember it being. it never is. But we found it on level two, I spoke my peace to the dear ol' parents and we returned home in what was no doubt record time.

I decided to walk to Power Coffee Works. The hero takes a fall -- not me, the coffee place. I have always had fine experiences there and was hoping for another, so I went up to the window to ask for my standard cup of decaf. The 12 year old working today seemed unfamiliar with a whole lotta stuff. I asked if he had cold decaf and he said "Yeah, What kind." I was lost. 10 something in the morning and I'm done in by a barista. What do you mean "what kind?" He said I could have any of the various coffee drinks and I said "no, just coffee." Now he was confused. "No water?" he asked. I couldn't tell if he was being silly, spiteful or just plain dumb. Anyway, he made a shot of espresso and then added sink water and handed it to. An ugly Americano indeed. I drank it and it tasted like water. No mixing, no finesse. I was disappointed. While I was there, though, I did see a pigeon slip on the tile floor. That's what you get for not flying, jerk.

I'm trying to save money by only using my phone when it is in wifi range. Otherwise, I get charged 10 bucks a day and after like 1 day, it begins to add up. The free Jeruslaem wifi was a bust so I figured I would just sit and appreciate my surroundings. My surroundings were basically cigarette smoke and flies, so, um, yay?

A note -- I can read and even understand Hebrew to some degree, and if you know Hebrew, you know that modern Hebrew is usually written without vowel points. This is made more complex by the arbitrary use of transliterations into Hebrew from English. So I saw a sign promoting הצ׳ולנט של פרלינ׳ס which I figured said "the chulent of pralines." It wasn't; it was the chulent with the brand name Perlin's. I heard a lot of English being spoken so I left. I can get that at home.

I walked down Yafo until I turned onto King George and then down Ben Yehuda to 1 Ben Yehuda, Pull and Bear. Maddie wanted jeans because my genes aren't good enough. So I played the stupid American dad and got some lady to have pity on me and help me out. But I had to turn on my mobile data to show her the items Maddie had sent to me so the pants didn't just cost me a bajillion dollars, but a bajillion and 10 dollars. I sat to recover by the public piano at the confluence of Yafo and Ben Yehuda. I wandered up Ben Yehuda to Moshikos. Fresh, hot falafel in a fresh, hot pita with pickles, Israeli salad (made with fresh, hot Israelis), some spicy, and fries in there also. A Sprite Zero to wash it down. 34 NIS and DEEEELISH. I could have eaten another but I'm trying to pace myself.

Back to the house to soak my head and take a nap.

Up til now I haven't mentioned the war. I'm trying not to be political but I want to point something out for those of you who haven't spent time in Israel. In the US, when we say that something happens "in the south" we are talking about events that are multiple humdreds of miles away. David drove to Sderot which is right by Gaza. How far from here? An hour without traffic. Think about that. The incursion wasn't far away. It wasn't hours and hours away. It was an hour away from Jerusalem. That's not much and that's war. 

I woke up and decided to walk to the Kotel (I asked Eyal but he chose not to accompany me). I ran into the Sedek family (with a Jonas along for the ride) and they mentioned that there is a Tekes (a ceremony indicating the end of a stage of training in the army) which is inspirational to watch as long as you are in the shade. On the way I gave a little charity and saw a lots and a lots of soldiers and friends and families. The kotel was packed. I went into the inside part (Wilson's Arch). It was cooler in there and more serious. No families hugging and picnicking or lining up selfies. It was quiet and prayerfilled. I stayed for four or five minchas and just sat and thought.

Why were Jews excluded from the Western Wall for so long? In terms of square footage, this place isn't much and the Jews praying there pose little threat to anyone. But it bespeaks the crime of survival; it is a physical manifestation, a proof of identity and heritage and if you kill a connection to the past, you kill the future. We don't NEED a place -- God is everywhere, but a focal point is helpful. I can see ok but I see better with glasses. We all make pilgrimages to our secret shrines. Sometimes the path is inside, sometimes out.

On the way out of the Wilson's arch area, a bunch of dust and schmutz fell on my head. I looked up and didn't see any source for it. I have been noting God's presence in my life and this seemed like a divine moment. God wanted me to know that I can take the wall with me and that's a nice reminder. At the wall, I also saw Moshe Scoczylas and his son. His son was part of the Tekes (in the Kfir brigade) and I expressed my admiration. I also felt really, really old. Outside the Jaffa Gate, I saw a Levine and we chatted for a bit.

I walked out of the Kotel area and took a back way towards the Rambam Square. I wasn't worried about getting lost because what's the worst that could happen? I get lost and stay at the Kotel? Also, the path I took had a lot of shade and different views. But with all the tech, the start up nation could invent an elevator or an escalator to get to and from the Kotel. I used to be able to make the walk and climb the stairs and still feel much daisy-like. Now, I walk to the corner of this block and I'm sweating and am possessed of dry heaves and shin splints.

I walked back slowly and decided to visit Mike's Place. The last time I was at Mike's, I was joined by a weird character who regaled me with I don't know what and I never ended up ordering because I thought he would roofie my burger when I went to go wash. This time, I actually ordered (menu was via a QR code which is convenient but seems lazy). If, by the way, that weirdo reads this. I take it all back. Please don't roofie my anything.

I got a Mike's Big Burger with fries and a Beck's. The menu is really limited. I was expecting more options. But once I'm sitting, I'm not getting up. The fries were cold which on a day like today is quite a feat! That dinner cost 137 NIS (I also got a bottle of water). The walk back was very relaxing and the pedestrian area was really lively so I made sure to leave it quickly. Back to the N and D compound for some writing, some family schmooz and some (I hope...) sleep.

Tomorrow will include Katamon and food trucks. Ooooh, food trucks.

Down and safe

I like routine. I have probably said that before, but it makes me feel better to say it at regular intervals. I also don't like going places and doing things, so the welcome rut is the welcome rut. This means that I am generally averse to travel because that often happens outside and people are involved and those are my two least favorite things. But there is one exception. I like going to Israel. Actually, I like being in Israel. If I could do that without the going, that'd be neat. Like beaming technology or portals. More than that, I like going to Israel, staying with family and walking to all the places I have been before and looking at them again. That is comfort for me. Pushing the envelope in these cases means walking in a slightly different direction for a couple of hours and then making sure I end up exactly where I have already been.

With that in mind I present the first installment of what I'm doing on my vacation from summer vacation. I bought these tickets about 3 months ago, after poring over a calendar and finding a window between Rosh Chodesh and the 17th of Tammuz. I like to be home for the events...but anyway, I worked on holding off on packing until I was 2 weeks out (a new record) and I even thought about packing less. That didn't work out, but my intentions were pure. Ish. I was also limited in my departure time because 6 months ago, I scheduled a medical appointment for this morning. You know a doctor is busy if you regularly schedule 6 months out so I wasn't planning on cancelling this. So it was doctor at 8AM and then get back home, move my bags (which were packed and hermetically sealed yesterday (read: 2 days ago? I'm not sure because I'm still trying to figure out what day it is today) while I paced, looking to see what else had to be taken care of at the last minute. When you are as neurotic as I am (and trust me, you aren't) you prefer 2 weeks of low level anxiety to 2 days of crushing anxiety, so I have been making lists, turning lights off and emptying my fridge for a while now, but when I left, I had no second thoughts or concerns that I had forgotten anything.

Randy drove me to the airport. I got there by 9:40 and saw many people and MANY bags there already. I found out that this is the first of the 14 or so aliyah flights organized by Nefesh B'Nefesh for this summer. That is emotionally satisfying but practically frustrating. Families who make aliyah pack everything (and I mean everything) and often have many annoying little bebes who need strollers and love to exercise their lungs in my zip code. Carts overladen with children, guitars and probably clothes blocked up the entire area as I made my way to the pre-security security line. The photographer saw me and, realizing that I was simply a tourist and not a true believer in the power of aliyah smashed his camera in disgust. Many of these families with 17 bags and 18 children did not see fit to wrangle said youngsters, or have the young people do anything but stare at phones. It took some roberting and looming but I got to the line and I was interviewed by a nice gentleman. He asked about what shul I go to like he would recognize the name of every rabbi in New Jersey. No doubt he was less concerned with the content than with my delivery but I was flustered and didn't really sell my lines. I need to go back for another take. I think that if I have the right mindset, I could really make him believe that I ever go to shul.

After pre-security there is the checking of the bags. My luggabag was right at the proper weight (no, I refuse to fat shame my luggage).  But my carry on was ever so slightly double the allowed size. The woman said that if I transfered 4 or 5 kilograms (which is a thing, apparently -- I accused her of making the word up but she went online and proved that it exists..."kill-o-gram"...I still can't believe that's a unit of measure. Sounds like a mail order sevice which executes ancestors. But I progress) from my carry on to my big ol' bag, she could check my carry on for free. I'm not exactly sure why, if it was being checked in, I had to reapportion the goods, but I was actually hoping for a situation like this. I have never had anyone weigh my carry on but I have exercised the option to check it at the gate for free. This time, I intentionally packed nothing in it that I would need on the plane with the expectation that I would check it in at the gate. So I got to check it in for free early and huzzah -- I only had my personal item with me which sped things along. I certainly didn't want to be stuck behind one of those aliyah families and their brood on the security line as I feared I would get my shoes mixed with theirs and hilarity would ensue.

Off to gate 63 where the plane leaving for Minneapolis/St. Paul had not left yet.  To sum up, I was dropped off by 9:40 and was at the gate by 10:05. Except this might not be true because I later noticed that the clock at the gate was stuck at 10:05. So I might have been there at any other time. Whatever the details, by 11:35 (on my watch which I put on after I settled at the gate -- I had anticipatority put it in my bag so that I wouldn't have to remove it for security. Take that Mr. The Man.) I was a little hungry. [I just noticed that on my tablet, if I type in the word hungry, the symbol 🇭🇺 comes up. Weird. ] so I went to a concession stand (called that, because I had to make a concession and accept that I was 🇭🇺 ) and bought a Quest bar. Six dollars and thirty-nine cents. For that money, I could by other stuff were I not in the airport. But that's a lot for a Quest bar.

Then there was the announcement of the gate change to gate 62. This should not have come as a surprise because by the time I got there, there was an El Al plane sitting at 62. Why they announced 63 is a mystery. Probably to confuse the Soton. The plane was the Herzeliyah (not Kfar Saba -- sorry Ira). I know that I stand no chance of getting a seat upgrade so I decided to ask if I could fly the plane. They probably don't get asked that so much and, who know. You don't have a chance at a "yes" if you don't ask. I got a "we'll see" which sounded a whole lot like "ask your mother" and since I can't do that, it was pretty much a "no." But I tried.

While I waited, I watched the people at gate 61. That was Allegiant Air to Des Moines. That made 2 things I was unfamiliar with: Allegiant Air, and anyone wanting to go to Des Moines. A whole plane full of people wanted to go to Des Moines. Another plane had already gone to Appleton. I don't know where that is or why anyone would want to go there either. I didn't ask because I was afraid they would actually want me to fly the pane because I can't imagine that even the pilots want to go to Des Moines.

Also, it's in Iowa. Go figure.

Boarding with no real carry-on means I don't have to worry about rushing in to get an overhead bin, jockeying with the wigs and hats and oversized backpacks. So I actually waiting until they called "Zone C" (I have been called worse). I was in 35A, a window seat with no window, but with some good leg room so I stretched out repeatedly just to flex. There was no one in the middle seat (what? no one wants to pay an extra 100 bucks for a middle seat?) I did have to move my personal item to an overhead bin for takeoff and landing, but how often does that happen, really? They played the safety video(s) before we took off so that was a win. Then, up in the air. After 20 minutes I decided to have an X and X (which is an adult M and M), though I would prefer if they called them NC and NC.  I took the pill, put a blanket on my head, cranked up the Mozart and fell asleep.

I awoke 3 hours later to find that I had missed mincha and meal service. But the girl on the aisle (young woman, who knows. Had I asked her age, security would have escorted me off the flight at 39,000 feet) said she didn't want her meal so I ate it. It was a Regal meal but I hope that actual kings get something better. It wasn't bad and I feel more like I'm going to heaven. There was fancy rice (it wasn't wild rice but it didn't look like regular rice) and some sort of what might have been chicken. There was a green "salad" (a couple of slices of cuke, two cherry tomatoes and, yeah. That. There was also a mezonos roll and chumus, and a ridiculously delicious piece of chocolate cake (my fear of Israeli desserts didn't kick in because the meals on the way are from the US). Then I broke my earphones. I had to use the airplane headphones. Will the suffering ever cease?

I also lost my pillow. How does one lose a pillow on an airplane? I'm not sure but I did it. Yay me. Maybe that roll wasn't actually mezonos. Cranked up the Beethoven and fell asleep.

I awoke four or so hours later to daven ma'ariv (no one ever davens Ha'aretz). Two and a half hours left to the flight so I started working on crossword puzzles. Then breakfast was served and I was groggy and nauseated. But hey, breakfast.

I did notice that on El Al people feel emboldened and just walk into the galley and take what they want. Does this happen on other airlines? This, by the way, was a Boeing 787 Dreamliner and it didn't fall apart! We had zoomies at about 619 mph and flew at between 38,999 and 39,001 feet. Inclusive. Babies screamed. Parents walked them around me so that I could appreciate it. I sensed that the babies knew something which prompted the crying, but it might have just been a generalized existential dread. Or burps. Or both.

Breakfast (which was not regal) started with a pseudo bagel (but still hamotzi) which was hot and soft. I schmeared cream cheese on it. Yum. I also got an actual cup of coffee. I ate the omelet and it tasted like a sponge (yes I have eaten a sponge. No followups please). I sprinkled on some salt and pepper so it tasted like a sponge from the Dead Sea which had pepper on it. And this is the preferred way to serve Dead Sea Sponges (no follow ups please). There was a little container with cukes, cherry tomatoes and 3 baby carrots. There was also a container with 2 pieces of pineapple and 3 grapes. Party on Garth. I have eaten. You can turn the plane around. We're done here.

Neat fact -- the bathroom on the plane has a little silver cup for hand washing on a little chain! Yeah! [for reference, I also saw Marc Alain Weitzen and a girl-former student whom I recognized but whose name I cannot recall. Marc Weitzen told me his name so no favoritism here] There were 60-something people  making aliyah so there were a couple of short congratulatory speeches and lots of applause but the plane landed anyway,

On the whole, it was a fantastic flight. No turbulence, I slept a lot and the food was plentiful and edible. And I deplaned well ahead of the huddled immigrants (because I didn't want to wait behind them their spawn here either). No line at passport control so I was one fo the first to get to the baggage claim. This allowed me to secure a comfy spot to wait while my bag came off last. You know whose came out first? Crew? And they were still on the plane! I found my way to the train and dropped 19 NIS (the ticket booth is in a different place from last time; big shock). I love the train ride and the 3 different elevators you have to take upon arriving in Jeruslaem. I still felt freesh and clean as a whistle. Then I walked to Nomi and David's and my body provided me with a day and a half of back sweat. Not sweat on my back, but sweat in reserve. On the plus side, I didn't get lost.

I dropped my stuff off at N+D's, soaked my head repeatedly, davened and then went out to get pomegranate juice. I headed to the Etrog Man and he said he had no pomegranates. This makes no sense. Lawsuits will follow. I headed back to the top of Ben Yehudah and found a smoothie store. I asked the guy for a pomegranate juice and he tried to have me add guava. Stay in your lane, bruh. I paid my 28 NIS, now give me my juice. I tried to connect to the Jerusalem wifi but it said "no internet" so I glommed on to the free Clalit wifi (I'm trying to keep my phone on wifi-only to save money). I headed back to N+D and chatted with the children and their various friends. Then I dozed on a chair. It's a good thing.

I like being in Israel. I walked up to Ben Yehudah and I knew that no one was looking at me aslant because I had a kippah on and tzizit flying in the wind. Sure, maybe they were judging me for wearing a long sleeved shirt in 90+ degree weather (45% humidity so, no biggie), or maybe they were focused on how much I looked like a slob. But either way, I felt accepted in my religious attire. I heard various languages, saw people from many different countries, and none of them looked at me twice. Sure, it would be nice to be noticed, but you get used to it.

Dinner is in the planning stages (the most delicious of all stages besides the eating) and then I might even catch some sleep, but who knows? It is Tuesday but it feels like a Monday. It is 5:45 but it feels like 3:27. So go figure.