Plane and Simple

So here I am. This, on any random day is probably true. But now, the here is not where the here sometimes is. I have jaunted and find myself in the Holy Land. So I will begin by catching you all up to speed. So on your marks, get set, and etc!

Six months of waiting culminated in my not being able to sleep on Sunday night because I knew that Monday, I was to get on an aeroplane and soar above the clouds and lose more sleep. After a few fitful hours, I got up and readied myself for the trip to Kennedy Airport. It used to be known as Idlewild Airport until someone said that that name was taken by La Guardia. For a while it was known as Lincoln Center but that was already taken. Eventually, they settled on Kennedy's name and we shall see if it escapes updating by our crouching tiger hidden president. Randy drove me and we followed Waze's recommendation that we drive in circles for half an hour, as that would still be faster than the Van Wyck. We arrived at terminal 4 and I wended my way through the various lines at which my bag was weighed, and counted and found the opposite of wanting. I was there early but not ridiculously so. I know this because my bag didn't come out last when I arrived!

Through the various levels of scrutiny and on my way to gate A4. I know that that particular detail doesn't matter to most people, but I write for the out-liers, the ones who know that details like "A4" make the story come alive. All you other slaggers can just deal with it. The plane (The Jerusalem of Gold) is a 787 of some sort but it looked little compared to some other jumbo jets. I caught a quick mincha in the terminal with other, likeminded Jews, and then I (as a proud member of Zone F) boarded the plane and found 35K (exit row, against the wall -- no real window to look through). The configuration was 3-3-3. I made sure, before take off to avail myself of part of a little pill that promised to knock me out for the duration of the flight. Spoiler alert, it did next to nothing. I did doze, but I was crazy cold (I think they closed the screen door, but left the actual door open to invite visitors at 40,000 feet). I used 2 blankets and had a jacket on, but I could not get cozy and warm. Add to that that "comfortable" was not in the lexicon of whoever designed the 787 and you have a recipe for a lot of sitting around and being anxious and annoyed. I did doze a bit, but on the whole, it was a wakey wakey eggs and subzero temps. Also, because this exit row was an exit row, there was a lot of extra space for me to wal around. Except I didn't want to walk around because I wanted to sleep. Fortunately, a few other families made use of the extra space to hold their constantly screaming and crying children. The kids took shifts, don't worry. The 2 year old would scream while the newborn slept, and the newborn would scream while the 2 year old was out getting smokes. Team work makes the dreams impossible.

We landed at Ben Gurion before I knew it, but after I knew it also. Xanax did have some effect. I got off at Ben Gurion and things moved nicely until I got to passport control. I arrived right at 7AM which is a shift change I think. As we waited on line, the people in the little kiosks who interview us and ask us for our social plans WHEN THEY DON'T EVEN WANT TO DATE YOU! left. New people showed up a little while later and the line had grown appreciably. I appreciated it because I didn't have to wait on it.

Then I followed signs to the train station. It was not where I left it. I had to walk out of the airport, walk down the sidewalk and then back in. The ticket cost 21 Shkalim (I had 32 in my pocket) in both English and Hebrew which I find highly suspicious. Twenty-something minutes later, I arrived at the Yirzchak Navon station (just rolls of the tongue, donit?) Then I walked to N+D's house. I schlepped my overweight baggage and my suitcase towards their house. Because of the ever changing construction, I had to use my standard method of dead reckoning, aiming at a general direction where I assumed I would find Korazin. Eventually, I found the right street and got to the house. I let myself in with the key that is hidden in the  fkjsdfh and the combination is 47267664 .  David came home a few minutes later and we chatted (I had had time to daven, don't worry). I was torn between two competing options: I could stay up, power through and make it until the evening so as to help my system to catch up, or I could take a nap which would, no doubt, further ruin my sleep patterns. So I made the obvious choice and took a nap. The nap was great but I woke up with the trifecta of confusion -- I didn't know where I was, when I was and why I was.

I went to sit in the sun which was really nice. I spoke with some local cats (not slang, for cool people...I just like talking to the strays wandering the streets. They have such a refreshing perspective. People walked by and a couple asked me (in Hebrew!) for directions. My ignorance knows no bounds so I made sure to give them the wrong information in a variety of languages that neither of us spoke.

Andi dropped by so I could transfer the Dunkin Donuts coffee and coffee mug that I transported on her behalf. Apparently, I was carrying it for a Frisch family (the Frankels?) so I can probably write the whole trip off as a business expense. If you think that that is wrong, keep it to yourself. You can't spell fraud without FU.

Yoni and I then went for a walk. He had to pick up his glasses (mishtkafreilach I think). We wandered back by way of Ben Yehuda and I stopped off at Moshikos (by law, I have to check in there within 36 hours of landing or I can be jailed I think). Dang their falafel is delicious, and it doesn't fall apart as you eat through it. But don't eat through it. It is mine. I am going to eat through it. Then, for Yoni, we went to Sam's Bagels so Yoni could explain the finer points of "mac and cheese" in Israel. I am now educated. Ask me something, I dare you.

"Mozzarella." Bam.

I saw another optical store, called "Optical Shesh Shesh". It seems to be the case that in Israel, no one cares if you have 20-20 vision. You have to have 6-6 vision. Their tests are hard.  We finished up at Sam's and headed back to the house because Yoni had to be elsewhere at elsetime. I saw Eyal briefly (he is now sitting on the couch, engrossed by a computer but hey, so am I), and then I realized it was 6:30 local time (they do time here in metric so you have to take the local time, multiply it by 2.2 and add 32. It is very complex, but that's how they do things in the second world.

The Hebrew word for students is studentim which sounds to me like Sudetenland. I don't know what to do with that realization, but there you go.

I presume that i will do little of significance this evening, but tomorrow, I will accompany Eyal as he looks at a school. Then I will return and get gussied up for the OSHIN WEDDING which is the primary reason that I felt empowered to come to Israel now.

More when more happens. Stay fresh, cheese bags.