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“Behold, God will not cast away a perfect man… till he fill thy mouth with laughing, and thy lips with rejoicing.”

- Job 8:20-21

Well, this will be my final entry from the Promised Land.
The wife and I pack up and head home to New York tomorrow.
Yes, Israel is still our homeland… but New York is our home.

Well, actually no… As my wife has said many times this week—
“You’re home, where you are—that’s my home.”

Awwwwww.

This reminds me of two of my favorite movies and their best lines:

“I’m 50 years old… there’s only one place I call home and it’s because you’re there.”
-- Armand to Albert in “The Birdcage”

“Please don't go away. Please? No one's ever stuck with me for so long before… I just, I remember things better with you… because when I look at you, I can feel it. And- and I look at you, and I... I'm home.”
-- Dory to Marlin in “Finding Nemo”


But back to Israel…

(sigh)

So many memories.
I made two more today.

And YES, they both involved me trying to speak Hebrew and then being emasculated in front of Israeli shop owners!

Naturally.

I picked up my wife’s tallit from the dry cleaners today.
I must’ve been holding close, clutching it and … petting it. Because the two old ladies standing behind the counter both asked, “Why are [verb]-ing the tallit in that way?”
I think she said “touching”… but it could’ve been “skeet-shooting,” for all I know.

I paused and I all I could say was “It’s not mine!”

Reverting back to primal… pre-adolescent instincts.
Then I added—“it’s my wife’s tallit.”
They both nodded their heads.
“Ohhhhhh.”

Right on! My wife wears a tallit!
Deal with it.
Actually, they did… that cleared it all up.

Then I went into the Old City of Jerusalem, to buy jewelery and t-shirts (naturally, just like my ancestors 2,000 years ago—Coca-Cola brand in Hebrew).
I started talking with a young man selling me a necklace. We chatted about the difference between Israelis and Americans.
I said Americans were fat.
He replied, “But you’re not fat—you exercise?”
“I do, I run. I ran the Tel Aviv marathon last month.”
“Oh, why!” (not a question—instead of “wow”, Israelis say “Why”… it’s still weird to hear… like a Spanish rooster says “koo-koo-ree-koo” instead of “cock-a-doodle-doo,” and instead of “meow” a Russian cat will say, “meow- where’s- my- vodka?”)

The shop owner was impressed.
“Good job! Very hard.”
“So I ran a marathon” I continued, “but the guy who finished right in front of me was 69 years old.”
That’s true!
“It was only one marathon…” I am not sure what I meant by this… my Hebrew is limited… but I know the words “only” and “one.”

My wife overheard our conversation and interjected—
“He is humble,” she talked about me like I wasn’t two feet away from her.
“He ran a marathon. He did big thing, but he does not think it big thing.”

I saw an opportunity!
“Yes, everything with me is big thing! Of course in my pants!”

The store owner laughed…
Trust me, it sounded funnier in Hebrew.

Connections!

Between me, my wife… and the patient store owners throughout Israel, who’ve listened to me butcher their language in many attempts to make sexual innuendos... and I finally did one!
Yes!

Oh, I was also able to give a truck driver directions in Hebrew yesterday!
Sure, he wanted directions to MY street, and he was one block away when he asked… but I still gave it to him!

Connections!

I’ll miss this place.
It's been my home for the last 9 months

But home is where the heart is.
And my heart belongs to my wife.

I hope that you figure out where your heart is.

So Shalom ... for now.

I'm going home.
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