"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.