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.