Posts
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“And the LORD had respect unto Abel and to his offering. But unto Cain and to his offering he had not respect. And Cain was very wroth…;” (Genesis 4:4-5).
“And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?”
(Genesis 4:9)
Okay, time for some brutal honesty:
When I was 5 years old I … repeated kindergarten.
But I was not alone—my twin brother also repeated kindergarten.
(sigh)
Oh, sweet Lord forgive me!
That paste was so tasty I had to eat it for another year!
(ahem)
Naturally, after that I developed soul-crushing self-doubts about my intelligence, which is toetully ridikooluss.
(Me likey skissors)
No no. Actually, these doubts were all in my head and completely unfounded.
I was always among the top 30 in my class (And the lady in the trailer on cinder blocks said I read super good, long time).
All that being said— when I turned 13, something changed.
I had my Bar-Mitzvah ceremony, a Jewish rite of passage. So that Friday, the day before my big BM (what?), my father took me aside and quietly said, “Aaron, you’re old enough now to know the truth. When you and your brother finished your first year of kindergarten, the teachers told us that one of you could possibly move on to 1st grade, but the other kid definitely needed to repeat kindergarten… Aaron, YOU were the kid who could’ve moved on to 1st grade.”
I couldn’t believe it.
My father continued, “But we felt it would’ve damaged the relationship between you and your brother, being identical twins and all. And we were told it was better for you to stay behind at the age of 5, rather than struggle to catch up for the rest of elementary school.”
I was shocked.
“But don’t tell your brother, it’ll just make him upset. You can be the bigger man, can’t you, Aaron?”
I assured my father that I could be the bigger man.
And I was.
… for a few hours.
Then my brother and I started arguing over which songs the DJ would play at our Bar Mitzvah party/record hop/ice cream buffet, which would occur the next evening.
My Brother: “That song from ‘Grease’ sucks!”
Me: “Y’know what—YOU suck!”
Brother: “Oh, brilliant comeback.”
Me: “Ha! What do YOU know about brilliant—YOU were the reason we repeated kindergarten!”
My brother looked confused. I felt bad, but I also really wanted the DJ to play ‘Summer Lovin’”—so I continued.
“Yeah, Dad told me that I could’ve gone to 1st grade, but you HAD to be held back, so they held BOTH of us back.”
Then there was a pause, my brother’s eyes got wide and suddenly he shouted, “Dad told ME that YOU had to be held back and that I was the one who could’ve gone to 1st grade!”
What????
Son of a bee sting!
The old man had done it again.
To this day we don’t know which one of us HAD to be held back for that second year of kindergarten… maybe both… maybe neither.
But we do know one thing—
our father
… is a liar.
And blood is thicker than paste.
“For I say,… to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think. …”
-- Romans 12:3
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Wednesday, April 7
Sunday, April 4
Cave of wonders
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"And Moses lifted up his hand, and with his rod he smote the rock twice: and the water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their beasts also."
--Numbers 20:10
I have been away from my computer for a few days.
Why?
I was in Petra, Jordan.
What a ride.
What's there to see in Petra?
Well, if you've seen the end of "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade", you know.
There is a monastery (technically dubbed "Treasury") carved into the side of a mountain.
The exterior is used in Indy 3.
It's where Indy found the holy grail!
("We named the DOG 'Indiana'"
"You were named after the dog?! Ha ha ha!")
But apparently it's more than just a set piece. It's real!
And that's only a small part of what they have in Petra.
There are also camels! and donkeys! and loud hairy men trying to sell crappy jewelery and small, annoying children trying to sell postcards.
A magical place.
My wife bought a blue topaz necklace from one fellow. It was only 1 dinar (or $1.50)! What a deal!
Last night she was wearing it as we walked through the streets of Jerusalem. After 15 minutes I noticed something odd.
"Um, honey," I said. "You're bosoms are blue."
Sure enough, he perspiration had caused the blue coloring from the super cheap necklace to rub off onto her chest, giving her a medical condition I dubbed "Avatartits." She thought it looked like Papa Smurf had done something disgusting on her.
My wife! So traveler tip: don't buy jewelery for less than 2 bucks in Petra.
Anyway, we explored the caves of Jordan and learned stuff, too.
And the sandstone rocks in Petra contain zinc oxide, so the ancient Nabataeans (who lived there) would use it as rouge, eye shadow, as well as antibiotic ointment-- all good for the skin.
Cool!
Experts also say Petra was inhabited as far back as 1500 BCE!
Why?
Well, according to Wikipedia (my exhaustive dedication to research is unparalleled), "the Nabataeans controlled flash floods by the use of dams, cisterns and water conduits. These innovations stored water for prolonged periods of drought, and enabled the city to prosper from its sale."
The flash floods came from Wadi Musa, which translated to mean "The Valley of Moses."
Y'see, tradition says that Petra was the site for Moses' impatient rock-hitting, which ticked off God, who then forbade Moses from entering the Promised Land.
"...therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them"
-- Numbers 20:12
Bummer.
Physical violence isn't the answer.
Whether you're throwing chairs at women praying by the Western Wall, or punching your brother in the nose because you feel guilty about the genocide in Rwanda, or if you're Moses and God tells you "speak ye unto the rock before their eyes; and it shall give forth his water"
(Numbers 20:8).
Use your words!
Even if those words are, "Hey, rock! Gimme some water!"
It's an important lesson-- the most advanced creation by humans is language. And when you stop using language... you stop... y'know... doin' stuff... that is good... to do.
Yup.
"Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent."
-- Isaac Asimov, from his novel "Federation"
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"And Moses lifted up his hand, and with his rod he smote the rock twice: and the water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their beasts also."
--Numbers 20:10
I have been away from my computer for a few days.
Why?
I was in Petra, Jordan.
What a ride.
What's there to see in Petra?
Well, if you've seen the end of "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade", you know.
There is a monastery (technically dubbed "Treasury") carved into the side of a mountain.
The exterior is used in Indy 3.
It's where Indy found the holy grail!
("We named the DOG 'Indiana'"
"You were named after the dog?! Ha ha ha!")
But apparently it's more than just a set piece. It's real!
And that's only a small part of what they have in Petra.
There are also camels! and donkeys! and loud hairy men trying to sell crappy jewelery and small, annoying children trying to sell postcards.
A magical place.
My wife bought a blue topaz necklace from one fellow. It was only 1 dinar (or $1.50)! What a deal!
Last night she was wearing it as we walked through the streets of Jerusalem. After 15 minutes I noticed something odd.
"Um, honey," I said. "You're bosoms are blue."
Sure enough, he perspiration had caused the blue coloring from the super cheap necklace to rub off onto her chest, giving her a medical condition I dubbed "Avatartits." She thought it looked like Papa Smurf had done something disgusting on her.
My wife! So traveler tip: don't buy jewelery for less than 2 bucks in Petra.
Anyway, we explored the caves of Jordan and learned stuff, too.
And the sandstone rocks in Petra contain zinc oxide, so the ancient Nabataeans (who lived there) would use it as rouge, eye shadow, as well as antibiotic ointment-- all good for the skin.
Cool!
Experts also say Petra was inhabited as far back as 1500 BCE!
Why?
Well, according to Wikipedia (my exhaustive dedication to research is unparalleled), "the Nabataeans controlled flash floods by the use of dams, cisterns and water conduits. These innovations stored water for prolonged periods of drought, and enabled the city to prosper from its sale."
The flash floods came from Wadi Musa, which translated to mean "The Valley of Moses."
Y'see, tradition says that Petra was the site for Moses' impatient rock-hitting, which ticked off God, who then forbade Moses from entering the Promised Land.
"...therefore ye shall not bring this congregation into the land which I have given them"
-- Numbers 20:12
Bummer.
Physical violence isn't the answer.
Whether you're throwing chairs at women praying by the Western Wall, or punching your brother in the nose because you feel guilty about the genocide in Rwanda, or if you're Moses and God tells you "speak ye unto the rock before their eyes; and it shall give forth his water"
(Numbers 20:8).
Use your words!
Even if those words are, "Hey, rock! Gimme some water!"
It's an important lesson-- the most advanced creation by humans is language. And when you stop using language... you stop... y'know... doin' stuff... that is good... to do.
Yup.
"Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent."
-- Isaac Asimov, from his novel "Federation"
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Tuesday, March 30
Passover Mobile-- the flat bread truck
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"And ye shall observe the feast of unleavened bread; for in this selfsame day have I brought your armies out of the land of Egypt: therefore shall ye observe this day in your generations by an ordinance for ever."
- Exodus 12:17
"And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body."
- Matthew 26:26
Wow, Jesus. You taste kinda bland.
Could we get a mesquite-flavored lord?
If a communion wafer reminds anyone of matzah, that makes sense, since the Last Supper took place during Passover.
"Now the first day of the feast of unleavened bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying unto him, Where wilt thou that we prepare for thee to eat the passover?"
- Matthew 26:17
Of course, Da Vinci painted bread on the table... yet another mistake of his (the other two: the Vetruvian man actually was wearing a banana hammock and Mona Lisa had six-fingered on her left hand... and killed Inigo Montoya's dad... that bitch).
In America, you folks pay about 75 cents a box. They GIVE away 5 pound boxes at the supermarket.
Ironically, in Israel this is not the case.
$5.75 for a pound of matzah.
I know.
So-- Christians and Jews, connected through stale flatbread.
And yet-- whenever Jews bring in a box of matzah to their places of business, their non-Jewish co-workers go wild.
Why?
Why do non-Jews love matzah so much?
My theory—
Christians have their little Jesus cracker, little sip of wine (we Jews have similar nosh, we just save ours till after services, but tomato-potato).
Christians must see matzah and go, “Damn! Look at the size of that thing. Your god must be HUGE!”
The body of Jesus and all they get is a little saltine?
They’re still paying retail when it comes to religious snack food.
We Jews have the Costco version of the communion wafer.
They have cracker envy, plain and simple.
.
"And ye shall observe the feast of unleavened bread; for in this selfsame day have I brought your armies out of the land of Egypt: therefore shall ye observe this day in your generations by an ordinance for ever."
- Exodus 12:17
"And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body."
- Matthew 26:26
Wow, Jesus. You taste kinda bland.
Could we get a mesquite-flavored lord?
If a communion wafer reminds anyone of matzah, that makes sense, since the Last Supper took place during Passover.
"Now the first day of the feast of unleavened bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying unto him, Where wilt thou that we prepare for thee to eat the passover?"
- Matthew 26:17
Of course, Da Vinci painted bread on the table... yet another mistake of his (the other two: the Vetruvian man actually was wearing a banana hammock and Mona Lisa had six-fingered on her left hand... and killed Inigo Montoya's dad... that bitch).
In America, you folks pay about 75 cents a box. They GIVE away 5 pound boxes at the supermarket.
Ironically, in Israel this is not the case.
$5.75 for a pound of matzah.
I know.
So-- Christians and Jews, connected through stale flatbread.
And yet-- whenever Jews bring in a box of matzah to their places of business, their non-Jewish co-workers go wild.
Why?
Why do non-Jews love matzah so much?
My theory—
Christians have their little Jesus cracker, little sip of wine (we Jews have similar nosh, we just save ours till after services, but tomato-potato).
Christians must see matzah and go, “Damn! Look at the size of that thing. Your god must be HUGE!”
The body of Jesus and all they get is a little saltine?
They’re still paying retail when it comes to religious snack food.
We Jews have the Costco version of the communion wafer.
They have cracker envy, plain and simple.
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Monday, March 29
Passover! Jews & Gentiles
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"And the Jews’ passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem"
-- John 2:13
What is the meaning of Passover?
Here is an exchange between a Christian and a Jewish boy, comparing their respective Spring holidays:
"We go to church... maybe."
"We go to synagogue... maybe."
"Cool. I have to wear a tie and shiny shoes."
"Me too."
"Really? We have my relatives over.
"Me too!"
"Cool! And of course, there's the bunny!"
"Me t—… Say what?"
"The Easter Bunny. The Giant Rabbit that symbolizes Easter… along with pastel eggs"
"Riiiiight."
"You don't have any animals for Passover?"
“Um… we have frogs!”
“Cool! And do they sing and play the banjo?”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Well, are they cute frogs?”
“They WOULD be… if they weren’t preceded by a river of blood and followed by 8 more plagues.”
“Any other Passover animals?”
"Well… we have a song about one little goat."
"Great! And is he a happy, healthy goat?"
"At first… but then he gets eaten by a cat”
“When does that happen in the song?”
“The second verse.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, but that's okay, because the cat that ate the goat gets bitten by a dog, and they hit the dog with a stick, and later there's a cow who is killed and a butcher who is killed and the Angel of Death… it's a song for children! Yeesh!"
"Well… my mom makes glazed ham, candied yams, delicious!”
“We eat matzah… which is like cardboard that makes you irregular.”
“We eat chocolate eggs, chocolate rabbits, chocolate candy of all kinds!”
“We eat… chocolate-covered… matzah! Jesus.”
“I’ll trade you my chocolate eggs for your matzah.”
“Really??? Sure… Wow, what a schmuck. Jesus!”
“Where?”
(The mystery isn't who hid the Afikoman or why the Christian God has a Hispanic name, it's the fact that Gentiles love matzah— go figure!)
Happy Passover!
May none of your four questions include- "Whose bra is this?"
.javascript:void(0)
"And the Jews’ passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem"
-- John 2:13
What is the meaning of Passover?
Here is an exchange between a Christian and a Jewish boy, comparing their respective Spring holidays:
"We go to church... maybe."
"We go to synagogue... maybe."
"Cool. I have to wear a tie and shiny shoes."
"Me too."
"Really? We have my relatives over.
"Me too!"
"Cool! And of course, there's the bunny!"
"Me t—… Say what?"
"The Easter Bunny. The Giant Rabbit that symbolizes Easter… along with pastel eggs"
"Riiiiight."
"You don't have any animals for Passover?"
“Um… we have frogs!”
“Cool! And do they sing and play the banjo?”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Well, are they cute frogs?”
“They WOULD be… if they weren’t preceded by a river of blood and followed by 8 more plagues.”
“Any other Passover animals?”
"Well… we have a song about one little goat."
"Great! And is he a happy, healthy goat?"
"At first… but then he gets eaten by a cat”
“When does that happen in the song?”
“The second verse.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, but that's okay, because the cat that ate the goat gets bitten by a dog, and they hit the dog with a stick, and later there's a cow who is killed and a butcher who is killed and the Angel of Death… it's a song for children! Yeesh!"
"Well… my mom makes glazed ham, candied yams, delicious!”
“We eat matzah… which is like cardboard that makes you irregular.”
“We eat chocolate eggs, chocolate rabbits, chocolate candy of all kinds!”
“We eat… chocolate-covered… matzah! Jesus.”
“I’ll trade you my chocolate eggs for your matzah.”
“Really??? Sure… Wow, what a schmuck. Jesus!”
“Where?”
(The mystery isn't who hid the Afikoman or why the Christian God has a Hispanic name, it's the fact that Gentiles love matzah— go figure!)
Happy Passover!
May none of your four questions include- "Whose bra is this?"
.javascript:void(0)
I Know You Want to Cleave Me...
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“For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife”
-- Mark 10:7 (based on Genesis 2:24)
How unique is my wife?
When I came home this afternoon, I started checking my e-mail on my wife’s computer.
Here is what I found:
In the DVD player:
“Star Trek, Next Generation, Season 6”
Google word search?
“Fluffy matzah balls”
Youtube video search?
“How to cut your man’s hair”
Moral:
My wife had two things in her hands today—
Scissors and balls.
ahem.
She boldly goes where no one has gone before
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“For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife”
-- Mark 10:7 (based on Genesis 2:24)
How unique is my wife?
When I came home this afternoon, I started checking my e-mail on my wife’s computer.
Here is what I found:
In the DVD player:
“Star Trek, Next Generation, Season 6”
Google word search?
“Fluffy matzah balls”
Youtube video search?
“How to cut your man’s hair”
Moral:
My wife had two things in her hands today—
Scissors and balls.
ahem.
She boldly goes where no one has gone before
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Sunday, March 28
Jewman Trafficking
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“Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently… fret not… Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the LORD, they shall inherit the earth.”
-- Psalms 37:7-9
What is the worst thing about Israel?
Time’s up.
Answer:
Traffic.
I was reading last year’s Frommer’s guide, which says:
“Terrorism has become a problem everywhere in the world…. Despite the news of the past few years, the chance is actually greater that you’ll be involved in a traffic mishap while in Israel.”
--- (Robert Ullian, p.73)
Hooray!
Yahoo for school!
Yeah, that’s a relief for all you tourists, but that doesn’t bode well for me!
And trust me, I must bode well (if I bode at all, and with my sciatica, I don’t bode too frequently… is this horse dead yet?).
Jerusalem is like Time’s Square combined with Boston rush hour and y’know those crazy cab drivers in Manhattan? Well, that’s how ALL Israelis drive!
Generalization? Sure. But close to the truth.
Running through the streets of Jerusalem, I am privy to some of the most terrifying traffic known to man. Everyone feels entitled: the buses, the taxis, the pedestrians—you can see a 2 ton bus filled with 30 people brought to a stand-still when a 23-year old Orthodox mom, pushing a stroller with twins and carrying 15 pounds of rugelach, bumps into a friend and decides to catch up on old times… in the middle of the street.
You know how docile most Jews are? Well, not here! In Israel the Jews all have guns by the time they’re 18.
So most Jews opt to walk in Jerusalem.
And why not?
That's how we got here in the first place.
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..."
-- Psalm 23:4
(or was it Coolio?)
(or maybe Weird Al)
“Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently… fret not… Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the LORD, they shall inherit the earth.”
-- Psalms 37:7-9
What is the worst thing about Israel?
Time’s up.
Answer:
Traffic.
I was reading last year’s Frommer’s guide, which says:
“Terrorism has become a problem everywhere in the world…. Despite the news of the past few years, the chance is actually greater that you’ll be involved in a traffic mishap while in Israel.”
--- (Robert Ullian, p.73)
Hooray!
Yahoo for school!
Yeah, that’s a relief for all you tourists, but that doesn’t bode well for me!
And trust me, I must bode well (if I bode at all, and with my sciatica, I don’t bode too frequently… is this horse dead yet?).
Jerusalem is like Time’s Square combined with Boston rush hour and y’know those crazy cab drivers in Manhattan? Well, that’s how ALL Israelis drive!
Generalization? Sure. But close to the truth.
Running through the streets of Jerusalem, I am privy to some of the most terrifying traffic known to man. Everyone feels entitled: the buses, the taxis, the pedestrians—you can see a 2 ton bus filled with 30 people brought to a stand-still when a 23-year old Orthodox mom, pushing a stroller with twins and carrying 15 pounds of rugelach, bumps into a friend and decides to catch up on old times… in the middle of the street.
You know how docile most Jews are? Well, not here! In Israel the Jews all have guns by the time they’re 18.
So most Jews opt to walk in Jerusalem.
And why not?
That's how we got here in the first place.
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil..."
-- Psalm 23:4
(or was it Coolio?)
(or maybe Weird Al)
Saturday, March 27
Bro's
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"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."
- Proverbs 17:17
Amen, Proverbs. Amen.
I remember the summer I turned 15.
My older brother and I were swimming in the ocean off the Jersey Shore (motto: “Now with less corpses than the Hudson”).
We were splashing around, having a gay ol’ time (it was fabulous), when suddenly my brother screamed.
Don’t panic.
It wasn’t a blood-curdling scream (if his blood were yogurt, it would still be fresh). But he was definitely in pain.
He quickly swam back to shore, and I followed.
He lay on the sand and that’s when I saw his left leg— was tinted pink with red pustules.
“Jellyfish,” he said, betwixt expletives.
He winced, I fretted and began helping him walk back home from the beach.
But he was in too much pain.
Something had to be done.
And so I snapped into action.
And some of you already know what’s coming.
We had heard rumors that uric acid neutralizes the stinging of jellyfish .
Well, rumors are good enough for me!
(as it turns out, that only works for stings from sea urchins... oh well)
We climbed a dune, stood behind a bush, and I did my brotherly duty (that’s d-u-t-y… I just went #1).
Why did I do it?
Because I love my brother.
And did it help?
It helped me… I really had to go.
But that’s what brother’s do for one another.
They laugh together.
They cry together.
And when the time comes,
they piss on each other.
.
"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."
- Proverbs 17:17
Amen, Proverbs. Amen.
I remember the summer I turned 15.
My older brother and I were swimming in the ocean off the Jersey Shore (motto: “Now with less corpses than the Hudson”).
We were splashing around, having a gay ol’ time (it was fabulous), when suddenly my brother screamed.
Don’t panic.
It wasn’t a blood-curdling scream (if his blood were yogurt, it would still be fresh). But he was definitely in pain.
He quickly swam back to shore, and I followed.
He lay on the sand and that’s when I saw his left leg— was tinted pink with red pustules.
“Jellyfish,” he said, betwixt expletives.
He winced, I fretted and began helping him walk back home from the beach.
But he was in too much pain.
Something had to be done.
And so I snapped into action.
And some of you already know what’s coming.
We had heard rumors that uric acid neutralizes the stinging of jellyfish .
Well, rumors are good enough for me!
(as it turns out, that only works for stings from sea urchins... oh well)
We climbed a dune, stood behind a bush, and I did my brotherly duty (that’s d-u-t-y… I just went #1).
Why did I do it?
Because I love my brother.
And did it help?
It helped me… I really had to go.
But that’s what brother’s do for one another.
They laugh together.
They cry together.
And when the time comes,
they piss on each other.
.
Friday, March 26
“ Don’t Stop Believin’ ”-- Journey
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Living here in Israel, my lovely wife and I get homesick for the United States.
And the best way to feel at home?
Watch DVDs! My best friends in the whole wide world!
I own many DVDs of many varieties: drama, sports, comedy, action, TV series, Pixar, home movies…
Impressed?
Of course.
My wife owns many DVDs, as well.
Eighty percent of which are “Star Trek” episodes.
Every single episode of “The Next Generation,” 129 hours, 49 DVDs.
Ahem.
But she’s a girl… so you can’t make jokes about how she’ll never get a girlfriend (ooh, that would be hot, though--- right?).
My wife often forces me to watch the intergalactic escapades of the Star Trek gang—including Geordi la Forge and Worf (the only brothers on TNG, one of them’s blind and the other has a skull shaped like the Agrocrag from Nickelodean’s “Guts”)
But here’s a gem of an exchange between the android, Data, and Lal, his “daughter,” another android:
Lal:
Then why do you still try to emulate humans? What purpose does it serve except to remind you that you are incomplete?
Lt. Cmdr. Data:
I have asked myself that many times, as I have struggled to be more human. Until I realized it is the struggle itself that is most important. We must strive to be more than we are, Lal. It does not matter that we will never reach our ultimate goal. The effort yields its own rewards.
-- (TNG, Season 3, ep. 16, "The Offspring,” written by René Echevarria)
Oh, Data, you so crazy…
That wisdom could’ve come from the mouth of Jesus, Obi wan… or a fortune cookie.
That’s good, profound stuff.
Essentially-- it’s the Journey, not the Destination.
A trite saying, but still true.
And ‘tis the season for a journey!
The holiday of Passover begins this Monday evening, commemorating the Israelites’ exodus from slavery in Egypt. Then they wandered in the desert for 40 years, finally making it to Canaan… later dubbed Israel, and all their problems came to an end.
But the Journey is more important than the destination.
Most Jews have been on a journey.
We’re a nomadic people.
Most Jews have lived OUTSIDE of Israel for most of world history, unsure where to call “home.”
Heck, it even takes the Israelites all 5 books of the Torah just to get to Israel.
And once they’re there… stuff gets complicated.
Y’see, as a nomadic people—sure life sucks, but it’s simple.
You live somewhere. The natives try to kill you… you pack up your stuff and go some place else.
Jules: I'll just walk the earth.
Vincent: What'cha mean walk the earth?
Jules: You know, walk the earth, meet people... get into adventures. Like Caine from "Kung Fu."
-- “Pulp Fiction”, 1994, screenplay by Quentin Tarantino
Amen, Jules.
It’s all about the journey.
Especially when it comes to women and romance.
A night of love starts with dinner—
Sure, dessert is the best part of the meal, but you gotta do some foreplay with the salad and soup before shoving that hot, tasty slice of cherry pie in your face, with whip cream running down your— and the pie might be too hot, you burn your tongue—oh god, the crust is in my hair…
ahem.
… and that’s not good for anybody.
Food-sex Analogy—nailed it.
But I will miss that pie (no no, literal pie) next week, when Passover starts. Observant Jews refrain from eating bread and bread products for a week. Why?
“And Moses said unto the people, Remember this day, in which ye came out from Egypt, out of the house of bondage; for by strength of hand the LORD brought you out from this place: there shall no leavened bread be eaten.”
-- Exodus 13:3
“Logic doesn’t really work with Passover.”
-- My lovely wife, earlier today
Amen, Wife.
It’s impossible to truly know what it was like to be a slave in Egypt, but we can limit our diets for one week, suffering a little bit… like slaves.
And really- is it THAT big a deal, to go all “Atkins” for a week?
… hell yes!
But it’s a journey.
A seven-day constipated journey.
.
Living here in Israel, my lovely wife and I get homesick for the United States.
And the best way to feel at home?
Watch DVDs! My best friends in the whole wide world!
I own many DVDs of many varieties: drama, sports, comedy, action, TV series, Pixar, home movies…
Impressed?
Of course.
My wife owns many DVDs, as well.
Eighty percent of which are “Star Trek” episodes.
Every single episode of “The Next Generation,” 129 hours, 49 DVDs.
Ahem.
But she’s a girl… so you can’t make jokes about how she’ll never get a girlfriend (ooh, that would be hot, though--- right?).
My wife often forces me to watch the intergalactic escapades of the Star Trek gang—including Geordi la Forge and Worf (the only brothers on TNG, one of them’s blind and the other has a skull shaped like the Agrocrag from Nickelodean’s “Guts”)
But here’s a gem of an exchange between the android, Data, and Lal, his “daughter,” another android:
Lal:
Then why do you still try to emulate humans? What purpose does it serve except to remind you that you are incomplete?
Lt. Cmdr. Data:
I have asked myself that many times, as I have struggled to be more human. Until I realized it is the struggle itself that is most important. We must strive to be more than we are, Lal. It does not matter that we will never reach our ultimate goal. The effort yields its own rewards.
-- (TNG, Season 3, ep. 16, "The Offspring,” written by René Echevarria)
Oh, Data, you so crazy…
That wisdom could’ve come from the mouth of Jesus, Obi wan… or a fortune cookie.
That’s good, profound stuff.
Essentially-- it’s the Journey, not the Destination.
A trite saying, but still true.
And ‘tis the season for a journey!
The holiday of Passover begins this Monday evening, commemorating the Israelites’ exodus from slavery in Egypt. Then they wandered in the desert for 40 years, finally making it to Canaan… later dubbed Israel, and all their problems came to an end.
But the Journey is more important than the destination.
Most Jews have been on a journey.
We’re a nomadic people.
Most Jews have lived OUTSIDE of Israel for most of world history, unsure where to call “home.”
Heck, it even takes the Israelites all 5 books of the Torah just to get to Israel.
And once they’re there… stuff gets complicated.
Y’see, as a nomadic people—sure life sucks, but it’s simple.
You live somewhere. The natives try to kill you… you pack up your stuff and go some place else.
Jules: I'll just walk the earth.
Vincent: What'cha mean walk the earth?
Jules: You know, walk the earth, meet people... get into adventures. Like Caine from "Kung Fu."
-- “Pulp Fiction”, 1994, screenplay by Quentin Tarantino
Amen, Jules.
It’s all about the journey.
Especially when it comes to women and romance.
A night of love starts with dinner—
Sure, dessert is the best part of the meal, but you gotta do some foreplay with the salad and soup before shoving that hot, tasty slice of cherry pie in your face, with whip cream running down your— and the pie might be too hot, you burn your tongue—oh god, the crust is in my hair…
ahem.
… and that’s not good for anybody.
Food-sex Analogy—nailed it.
But I will miss that pie (no no, literal pie) next week, when Passover starts. Observant Jews refrain from eating bread and bread products for a week. Why?
“And Moses said unto the people, Remember this day, in which ye came out from Egypt, out of the house of bondage; for by strength of hand the LORD brought you out from this place: there shall no leavened bread be eaten.”
-- Exodus 13:3
“Logic doesn’t really work with Passover.”
-- My lovely wife, earlier today
Amen, Wife.
It’s impossible to truly know what it was like to be a slave in Egypt, but we can limit our diets for one week, suffering a little bit… like slaves.
And really- is it THAT big a deal, to go all “Atkins” for a week?
… hell yes!
But it’s a journey.
A seven-day constipated journey.
.
Thursday, March 25
Say The Magic Word
.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger."
-- Proverbs 15:1
Saying the right thing at the right time, can save you.
We’ve all been in situations where we said the exact, right thing and BAM—it feels great!
Jesus did that a lot.
Abraham Lincoln always seemed to have a response.
And any character in an Aaron Sorkin show—great lines.
Cyrano de Bergerac had the right idea.
Clever quips, poignant asides, great advice in times of need—- it's what we try for.
I remember two years ago, my dad was in the hospital for some spinal surgery.
My father was a figure of power and strength for my most of my childhood— he lifted anything and everything— huge planks of wood, tons of bricks, bags of cement, and on several occasions, my brothers and myself.
Then, in 2008, he had some minor surgery on his spine and neck. Minor, sure, but it’s still surgery.
The day we took him home from the hospital (it was only overnight), he was a bit upset-- ornery, if you will. He felt weak, he felt feeble, he was in the first stages of recovery. He could barely turn his head and needed to use a cane when walking (he’s much more mobile now).
But my dad was stubborn.
“I don’t want the damn cane.”
My mother insisted (as did the physical therapist), “Take the cane.”
“No.”
Back and forth, they went.
Finally my dad, fed up, shouted, “Leave the cane!”
I quietly chimed in, “Take the cannoli.”
(à la “The Godfather”)
There was a beat.
And then… laughter.
My dad laughed.
It cut the tension into itty bitty pieces.
Was that the funniest, cleverest thing I’ve ever said.
Of course not!
I am a comedic genius! I can think of much funnier stuff at any given moment
(example: Uh… monkey?… diarrhea sandwich?... oh, to hell with it)
But saying the right thing, at the right time, diffusing a tense situation…
Priceless.
That might have been the most rewarding laugh of my life.
Of course, I learned by watching my old man.
Just one night earlier, a few hours before his surgery, my brothers and I were visiting my dad in his hospital room.
“Aaron,” he said, “Could you unplug my heating pad? It’s the blue extension chord in the wall.”
I stooped down beside the bed, there were several plugs and wires in the wall outlet, connected to his IV drip, heart/pulse monitor, etc. No life support or anything.
I double-checked the wire of the heating pad, a blue extension chord and my dad assured me (“Yeah, the blue one”).
I should’ve expected what happened next…
I yanked out the blue chord and immediately— I heard my Dad yelp, “Oh god!”
I looked up, one hand gripping his chest, the other hand flailing about.
“Jesus Christ!”
And then, immediately— laughter.
First from my father and then my brothers. Raucous, belly laughter.
Not from me, so much. But they enjoyed it.
“Oh, you should’ve seen yourself,” my dad has said many times since, laughing at my abject terror, “Oh man. All the color left your face, you thought you’d killed me. It was great.”
Timing is everything.
.
"A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger."
-- Proverbs 15:1
Saying the right thing at the right time, can save you.
We’ve all been in situations where we said the exact, right thing and BAM—it feels great!
Jesus did that a lot.
Abraham Lincoln always seemed to have a response.
And any character in an Aaron Sorkin show—great lines.
Cyrano de Bergerac had the right idea.
Clever quips, poignant asides, great advice in times of need—- it's what we try for.
I remember two years ago, my dad was in the hospital for some spinal surgery.
My father was a figure of power and strength for my most of my childhood— he lifted anything and everything— huge planks of wood, tons of bricks, bags of cement, and on several occasions, my brothers and myself.
Then, in 2008, he had some minor surgery on his spine and neck. Minor, sure, but it’s still surgery.
The day we took him home from the hospital (it was only overnight), he was a bit upset-- ornery, if you will. He felt weak, he felt feeble, he was in the first stages of recovery. He could barely turn his head and needed to use a cane when walking (he’s much more mobile now).
But my dad was stubborn.
“I don’t want the damn cane.”
My mother insisted (as did the physical therapist), “Take the cane.”
“No.”
Back and forth, they went.
Finally my dad, fed up, shouted, “Leave the cane!”
I quietly chimed in, “Take the cannoli.”
(à la “The Godfather”)
There was a beat.
And then… laughter.
My dad laughed.
It cut the tension into itty bitty pieces.
Was that the funniest, cleverest thing I’ve ever said.
Of course not!
I am a comedic genius! I can think of much funnier stuff at any given moment
(example: Uh… monkey?… diarrhea sandwich?... oh, to hell with it)
But saying the right thing, at the right time, diffusing a tense situation…
Priceless.
That might have been the most rewarding laugh of my life.
Of course, I learned by watching my old man.
Just one night earlier, a few hours before his surgery, my brothers and I were visiting my dad in his hospital room.
“Aaron,” he said, “Could you unplug my heating pad? It’s the blue extension chord in the wall.”
I stooped down beside the bed, there were several plugs and wires in the wall outlet, connected to his IV drip, heart/pulse monitor, etc. No life support or anything.
I double-checked the wire of the heating pad, a blue extension chord and my dad assured me (“Yeah, the blue one”).
I should’ve expected what happened next…
I yanked out the blue chord and immediately— I heard my Dad yelp, “Oh god!”
I looked up, one hand gripping his chest, the other hand flailing about.
“Jesus Christ!”
And then, immediately— laughter.
First from my father and then my brothers. Raucous, belly laughter.
Not from me, so much. But they enjoyed it.
“Oh, you should’ve seen yourself,” my dad has said many times since, laughing at my abject terror, “Oh man. All the color left your face, you thought you’d killed me. It was great.”
Timing is everything.
.
Wednesday, March 24
“Let he among us without sin be the first to condemn/ La vie boheme” - Rent
.
“Jesus went unto the mount of Olives….
He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”
-- John 8:1,8
I was jogging through Jerusalem, as I am wont to do (why am I wont to do something? Because I want to do it. Won’t you? … ahem… so who’s on first?).
I ran by a sign with an arrow that read “Har ha-Zeytim.”
That means, literally, “Mountain of Olives.”
Coincidence—last night I was watching the film “Cloudy With a chance of meatballs”… and here was a mountain of olives?!
Point of Fact—that film, in Israel is translated as “Rain of Falafel.”
Know your audience.
(I think "Alice in Wonderland" is called “Shiksa Trips Balls on Hashish”)
Actually, Mount Olives (located in East Jerusalem) is fairly well-known.
First mention in 2nd Samuel 15:30, when King David flees the murderous Absalom (ironic name: “Father of Peace”)
Even Jesus hung out there a lot. According to the infallible word of Wikipedia, “Jesus is said to have spent time on the mount, teaching and prophesying to his disciples.”
So if Jesus is Zack Morris, Mt. Olives is “The Max.”
Completely inoffensive analogy, right?
After all, Zack Morris WAS like Jesus ca. 1991:
Zack Morris could stop—looking at the camera and saying, “Time out!”
He didn’t cure lepers, but he could make Screech cool (I’m sure that must’ve been an episode)
He healed the sick -- helped Jessi kick that nasty caffeine pill addiction; “I’m so excited, I’m so excited, I’m so— (say it with me) SCARED.”
And Zack Morris had his own Mary Magdalane.
He turned the whorish Kelly Kopowski into… less of a whore? Right? They got married in Hawaii or something.
OKAY!
Back to Jesus!
And Mount Olives!
Why did Jesus make that famous proclamation about the person without sin can cast the first stone?
Because the people “brought unto him a woman taken in adultery.” The people point out to Jesus, “Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?”
In other words, kid to the baby-sitter: “My dad lets me eat jellybeans for dinner! He does!”
And Jesus says that oh-so-famous phrase.
The people shut up, leave the room, and leave the woman and Jesus alone. He tells her, get outta here and quite fornicatin’ with married dudes (not in so many words)
(John 8:1-11).
Amen.
So—don’t cast a stone! We’ve all made mistakes.
Say it with me:
Pobody’s Nerfect.
Michael Jordan missed shots.
Tom Hanks has made crappy movies.
Some of Hemingway’s stories sucked.
So don’t beat yourself up over everything.
But that also means you gotta cut other people some slack, too.
When you point a finger at someone... you're pointing three at yourself.
... and the thumb... well, the thumb doesn't do a damn thing.
“All of you lied. Should you have asterisks behind your names? All of you have said something wrong. All of you have dirt. When your closet’s clean, then clean somebody else’s. But clean yours first.”
-- Barry Bonds, from the 2008 documentary “Bigger, Stronger, Faster*”
“Moses was a hero, but Moses was a heel, he didn’t get into the promised land, didn’t do what God told him to do.
David was a hero, but David was heel. He chased every woman in a skirt or toga or whatever they wore back then.
Every man is fallible and even the people who were the prime examples of how to run your life in the Bible-- screwed up. They all screwed up.
People need to get off their self-righteous soap boxes and start lovin’ each other."
-- the father of the filmmaker, Chris Bell, from the same film
.
“Jesus went unto the mount of Olives….
He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.”
-- John 8:1,8
I was jogging through Jerusalem, as I am wont to do (why am I wont to do something? Because I want to do it. Won’t you? … ahem… so who’s on first?).
I ran by a sign with an arrow that read “Har ha-Zeytim.”
That means, literally, “Mountain of Olives.”
Coincidence—last night I was watching the film “Cloudy With a chance of meatballs”… and here was a mountain of olives?!
Point of Fact—that film, in Israel is translated as “Rain of Falafel.”
Know your audience.
(I think "Alice in Wonderland" is called “Shiksa Trips Balls on Hashish”)
Actually, Mount Olives (located in East Jerusalem) is fairly well-known.
First mention in 2nd Samuel 15:30, when King David flees the murderous Absalom (ironic name: “Father of Peace”)
Even Jesus hung out there a lot. According to the infallible word of Wikipedia, “Jesus is said to have spent time on the mount, teaching and prophesying to his disciples.”
So if Jesus is Zack Morris, Mt. Olives is “The Max.”
Completely inoffensive analogy, right?
After all, Zack Morris WAS like Jesus ca. 1991:
Zack Morris could stop—looking at the camera and saying, “Time out!”
He didn’t cure lepers, but he could make Screech cool (I’m sure that must’ve been an episode)
He healed the sick -- helped Jessi kick that nasty caffeine pill addiction; “I’m so excited, I’m so excited, I’m so— (say it with me) SCARED.”
And Zack Morris had his own Mary Magdalane.
He turned the whorish Kelly Kopowski into… less of a whore? Right? They got married in Hawaii or something.
OKAY!
Back to Jesus!
And Mount Olives!
Why did Jesus make that famous proclamation about the person without sin can cast the first stone?
Because the people “brought unto him a woman taken in adultery.” The people point out to Jesus, “Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?”
In other words, kid to the baby-sitter: “My dad lets me eat jellybeans for dinner! He does!”
And Jesus says that oh-so-famous phrase.
The people shut up, leave the room, and leave the woman and Jesus alone. He tells her, get outta here and quite fornicatin’ with married dudes (not in so many words)
(John 8:1-11).
Amen.
So—don’t cast a stone! We’ve all made mistakes.
Say it with me:
Pobody’s Nerfect.
Michael Jordan missed shots.
Tom Hanks has made crappy movies.
Some of Hemingway’s stories sucked.
So don’t beat yourself up over everything.
But that also means you gotta cut other people some slack, too.
When you point a finger at someone... you're pointing three at yourself.
... and the thumb... well, the thumb doesn't do a damn thing.
“All of you lied. Should you have asterisks behind your names? All of you have said something wrong. All of you have dirt. When your closet’s clean, then clean somebody else’s. But clean yours first.”
-- Barry Bonds, from the 2008 documentary “Bigger, Stronger, Faster*”
“Moses was a hero, but Moses was a heel, he didn’t get into the promised land, didn’t do what God told him to do.
David was a hero, but David was heel. He chased every woman in a skirt or toga or whatever they wore back then.
Every man is fallible and even the people who were the prime examples of how to run your life in the Bible-- screwed up. They all screwed up.
People need to get off their self-righteous soap boxes and start lovin’ each other."
-- the father of the filmmaker, Chris Bell, from the same film
.
Tuesday, March 23
Brother from... the same mother
.
"And when her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold, there were twins in her womb.... And the first... and they called his name Esau. 25:26 And after that came his brother... Jacob."
-- Genesis 24:24-26
As usual I was googling homosexuals on the web.
whoa, whoa, whoa...
like you don't?
Okay, as the husband of a rabbi-in-training, when I introduce myself to people I say, "I'm married to a future rabbi... I'm not gay... but I AM open to suggestion (wink)."
Because a lot people are traditional and do not know that women can be rabbis... and I can come off as being very FABULOUS!
I was speaking with a fellow husband of a female rabbi-to-be, and-- naturally-- we were discussing homosexuals.
We arrived on the King of Kings himself...
Liberace! Whose full name was... Wladziu Valentino Liberace.
Born in ... (wait for it)... Wisconsin!
Really.
But guess what-- Liberace had a stillborn twin brother!
And I remembered, so did Elvis! (whose middle name was Aaron, btw! Rep-a-zent!)
And who else had a stillborn twin?
I almost did.
I have an older brother named Jacob.
I have an identical twin brother named Esau.
No, no-- his name is Zack.
I was born first, 15 minutes before him. So I am technically older (not that it makes a difference-- I didn't do anything constructive with the time. I didn't boil some rice or finish a Sudoku).
But y'see, my brother was coming out backwards (out my mother's ass).
He was coming out feet first. So the doctors had to do a C-section on my mom, slicing her open like a Thanksgiving turkey (except there was no stuffing... just my brother... although the amniotic fluid WAS gravy... repulsed yet?).
Actually, the doctors saved his life, because the umbilical chord was wrapped around his neck (don't know how THAT happened-- wink).
Anyhoo, I very nearly DIDN'T have a twin brother.
And that would've... sucked.
Siblings are in your life for three major reasons:
to keep you humble ("Nobel Prize, Shmobel Prize. Remember the time you barfed on grandma?")
to bond/identify with someone about relatives ("Dad thinks the mailman is stealing the newspaper again")
and to have an all-purpose confidant.
To have someone help cover up your obvious marijuana-induced high-ness before your parents see you.
To have someone help hide pornography before your parents find it ("Son, what's this 'Donkey and Co-eds' magazine?")
To have someone help you through the tough times in life.
To tell you all women are she-devils when one breaks your heart.
To tell you when you can do better.
To tell you, "Indiana... Let it go, Indiana."
And to have someone who resents the fame of Mary-Kate and Ashley as much as you do.
"Seek always to do some good, somewhere. Every man has to seek in his own way to realize his true worth. You must give some time to your fellow man. For remember, you don't live in a world all your own. Your brothers are here too."
-- Albert Schweitzer
.
"And when her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold, there were twins in her womb.... And the first... and they called his name Esau. 25:26 And after that came his brother... Jacob."
-- Genesis 24:24-26
As usual I was googling homosexuals on the web.
whoa, whoa, whoa...
like you don't?
Okay, as the husband of a rabbi-in-training, when I introduce myself to people I say, "I'm married to a future rabbi... I'm not gay... but I AM open to suggestion (wink)."
Because a lot people are traditional and do not know that women can be rabbis... and I can come off as being very FABULOUS!
I was speaking with a fellow husband of a female rabbi-to-be, and-- naturally-- we were discussing homosexuals.
We arrived on the King of Kings himself...
Liberace! Whose full name was... Wladziu Valentino Liberace.
Born in ... (wait for it)... Wisconsin!
Really.
But guess what-- Liberace had a stillborn twin brother!
And I remembered, so did Elvis! (whose middle name was Aaron, btw! Rep-a-zent!)
And who else had a stillborn twin?
I almost did.
I have an older brother named Jacob.
I have an identical twin brother named Esau.
No, no-- his name is Zack.
I was born first, 15 minutes before him. So I am technically older (not that it makes a difference-- I didn't do anything constructive with the time. I didn't boil some rice or finish a Sudoku).
But y'see, my brother was coming out backwards (out my mother's ass).
He was coming out feet first. So the doctors had to do a C-section on my mom, slicing her open like a Thanksgiving turkey (except there was no stuffing... just my brother... although the amniotic fluid WAS gravy... repulsed yet?).
Actually, the doctors saved his life, because the umbilical chord was wrapped around his neck (don't know how THAT happened-- wink).
Anyhoo, I very nearly DIDN'T have a twin brother.
And that would've... sucked.
Siblings are in your life for three major reasons:
to keep you humble ("Nobel Prize, Shmobel Prize. Remember the time you barfed on grandma?")
to bond/identify with someone about relatives ("Dad thinks the mailman is stealing the newspaper again")
and to have an all-purpose confidant.
To have someone help cover up your obvious marijuana-induced high-ness before your parents see you.
To have someone help hide pornography before your parents find it ("Son, what's this 'Donkey and Co-eds' magazine?")
To have someone help you through the tough times in life.
To tell you all women are she-devils when one breaks your heart.
To tell you when you can do better.
To tell you, "Indiana... Let it go, Indiana."
And to have someone who resents the fame of Mary-Kate and Ashley as much as you do.
"Seek always to do some good, somewhere. Every man has to seek in his own way to realize his true worth. You must give some time to your fellow man. For remember, you don't live in a world all your own. Your brothers are here too."
-- Albert Schweitzer
.
Monday, March 22
I Got 99 Problems...
.
"It is better to dwell in the wilderness, Than with a contentious and an angry woman."
- Proverbs 21:19
This also the motto of Fire Island.
Kidding!
Today I was running through Jerusalem's version of Central Park: Gan Soccer (translation: Garden... Soccer-- okay, actually "Soccer Garden"... much better). Crazy thing, though: That's only how it's pronounced. It's spelled "Gan Sacher."
It's actually named after some dude named Harry Sacher, an English zionist-- pronounced "Soccer," but people coincidentally play a lot of soccer there (or "futball", with an umlaut)!
And they wear little beanies on their heads
And they also call french fries "chips"--
What a country!
(really)
Anyhoo, I was running through "Gan Sacher", down pathways, amongst the trees and dirt, up hills I didn't recognize, and when I emerged from the wooded area-- guess what!
There was Mr. Tumnus, telling me to follow him... into the back of his van (he promised me Turkish delights. He promised... Oh god! What have I done?!).
NO, actually, I left the park and found myself one block away from my lovely wife's school!
Kismet!
I felt like those three pets returning to their masters in Homeward Bound! (also because I lick myself)
I called my wife, she came outside and we embraced, like we hadn't seen each other since ... this morning. We walked and talked. Talking of course leads to... arguing!
But that's okay.
We bickered a little, but quickly reconciled-- that's the beauty of a long-term relationship (or marriage)-- fights can escalate-- but they resolve themselves a lot faster than they used to.
Why?
Because you got each other's back. You got a permanent cheer leader. Someone in your corner. And that's the greatest.
That's love.
"Baby, you're the greatest!"
-- Ralph Kramden, to wife Alice (when he wasn't threatening her with physical violence)
Why am I telling you this?
So you resent me!
And because I just heard a D'var Torah (a sermon based on the weekly Torah portion) that advised me: Don't pass up opportunities to tell people how much they mean to you. Call a friend, relative, teacher, etc.
Let people know how you feel. What have you got to lose?
With the interwebs and cellular telephone machines, it's easier than ever to contact people. Trust me, I am incredibly lazy, so if I'M saying it... well then.
Touch base.
Reconnect.
And for god sakes-- stay out of Mr. Tumnus' van! (he made me his "Princess Caspian")
.
"It is better to dwell in the wilderness, Than with a contentious and an angry woman."
- Proverbs 21:19
This also the motto of Fire Island.
Kidding!
Today I was running through Jerusalem's version of Central Park: Gan Soccer (translation: Garden... Soccer-- okay, actually "Soccer Garden"... much better). Crazy thing, though: That's only how it's pronounced. It's spelled "Gan Sacher."
It's actually named after some dude named Harry Sacher, an English zionist-- pronounced "Soccer," but people coincidentally play a lot of soccer there (or "futball", with an umlaut)!
And they wear little beanies on their heads
And they also call french fries "chips"--
What a country!
(really)
Anyhoo, I was running through "Gan Sacher", down pathways, amongst the trees and dirt, up hills I didn't recognize, and when I emerged from the wooded area-- guess what!
There was Mr. Tumnus, telling me to follow him... into the back of his van (he promised me Turkish delights. He promised... Oh god! What have I done?!).
NO, actually, I left the park and found myself one block away from my lovely wife's school!
Kismet!
I felt like those three pets returning to their masters in Homeward Bound! (also because I lick myself)
I called my wife, she came outside and we embraced, like we hadn't seen each other since ... this morning. We walked and talked. Talking of course leads to... arguing!
But that's okay.
We bickered a little, but quickly reconciled-- that's the beauty of a long-term relationship (or marriage)-- fights can escalate-- but they resolve themselves a lot faster than they used to.
Why?
Because you got each other's back. You got a permanent cheer leader. Someone in your corner. And that's the greatest.
That's love.
"Baby, you're the greatest!"
-- Ralph Kramden, to wife Alice (when he wasn't threatening her with physical violence)
Why am I telling you this?
So you resent me!
And because I just heard a D'var Torah (a sermon based on the weekly Torah portion) that advised me: Don't pass up opportunities to tell people how much they mean to you. Call a friend, relative, teacher, etc.
Let people know how you feel. What have you got to lose?
With the interwebs and cellular telephone machines, it's easier than ever to contact people. Trust me, I am incredibly lazy, so if I'M saying it... well then.
Touch base.
Reconnect.
And for god sakes-- stay out of Mr. Tumnus' van! (he made me his "Princess Caspian")
.
Sunday, March 21
Say What???
.
“Day unto day uttereth speech…
There is no speech nor language…
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD..."
-- Psalm 19:14
I was buying some food in the shuk last week.
“What is the shuk?” I hear you ask hypothetically!
It is an open-air market in the heart of Jerusalem.
Istanbul has one.
Cairo has one.
Many cities in the Middle East have one.
And, from my experience, they all suck!
Haggling, not a pleasant experience.
It’s like buying a car, but one egg at a time. One orange at a time. One piece of pita at a time.
It’s like trench warfare, fighting and scraping for every meter of land/shekel of food.
So, last week, in the shuk, I had gone running, even though it was quite chilly (“Grrr! Yeah! I’m like a less masculine G.I. Jane!”).
I bought some cheese and started chatting with the cheese salesman, in my mediocre Hebrew.
Here is a translation of our conversation:
“You’re wearing shorts?” he asked.
“Yes” I responded, “I run here. I go run.”
“But it’s cold!”
“Yes” I said.
“Well, good for you.”
(then I try to be funny… and something was lost in translation)
“Yes," I continue, "but I wear shorts, no matter to me, because I am groom."
[silence from the cheese salesman, so I continue]
“… I be married, so no matter to me. I do not use my body parts down there…because I married.”
“What?” asks the cheese man.
“Because I have wife, so I have nothing to do, I have no… eggs. I can’t use my eggs for I married now. My wife took them.”
“You want to buy a dozen eggs?”
“No no… An expression... I don’t have… I can’t… my wife… [sigh] It’s a joke.”
“Oh” he said… then he walked away.
And I took my cheese and ran home.
In my shorts.
With no eggs.
To my loving, patient wife.
who speaks English, thank God.
.
“Day unto day uttereth speech…
There is no speech nor language…
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD..."
-- Psalm 19:14
I was buying some food in the shuk last week.
“What is the shuk?” I hear you ask hypothetically!
It is an open-air market in the heart of Jerusalem.
Istanbul has one.
Cairo has one.
Many cities in the Middle East have one.
And, from my experience, they all suck!
Haggling, not a pleasant experience.
It’s like buying a car, but one egg at a time. One orange at a time. One piece of pita at a time.
It’s like trench warfare, fighting and scraping for every meter of land/shekel of food.
So, last week, in the shuk, I had gone running, even though it was quite chilly (“Grrr! Yeah! I’m like a less masculine G.I. Jane!”).
I bought some cheese and started chatting with the cheese salesman, in my mediocre Hebrew.
Here is a translation of our conversation:
“You’re wearing shorts?” he asked.
“Yes” I responded, “I run here. I go run.”
“But it’s cold!”
“Yes” I said.
“Well, good for you.”
(then I try to be funny… and something was lost in translation)
“Yes," I continue, "but I wear shorts, no matter to me, because I am groom."
[silence from the cheese salesman, so I continue]
“… I be married, so no matter to me. I do not use my body parts down there…because I married.”
“What?” asks the cheese man.
“Because I have wife, so I have nothing to do, I have no… eggs. I can’t use my eggs for I married now. My wife took them.”
“You want to buy a dozen eggs?”
“No no… An expression... I don’t have… I can’t… my wife… [sigh] It’s a joke.”
“Oh” he said… then he walked away.
And I took my cheese and ran home.
In my shorts.
With no eggs.
To my loving, patient wife.
who speaks English, thank God.
.
Kindness of Strangers
.
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
-- Hebrew 13:2
Living in a foreign country has forced me to do certain things.
There are many moments in your life when you’re forced to swallow something—
Your first day in the prison laundry room,
smuggling baggies of crack in through the airport
—or living in a foreign country.
The latter has forced me to swallow my pride…
and ask for help and directions
…in a foreign language.
Last Tuesday I was meeting up with my lovely bride on Ben Yehuda Street (the Jerusalem equivalent of Times Square… but much smaller, and more… Jewey).
And BAM!
My cell phone dies!
Oh no!
And I’m supposed to meet my wife SOMEWHERE soon!
These are the only situations where I marvel at life from ten years ago, before cell phones were as ubiquitous as reality shows and … y’know… other things that are everywhere.
(sigh… analogies are not my forte)
But ten years ago—how the devil did people meet up with each other before they could call each other twelve times in a thirty-minute time span?
I was stuck in downtown Jerusalem with no phone.
And all the payphones in Jerusalem rely on phone cards.
What are those?
Who the hell knows???
Not me!
Nor do I know how to purchase one!
I asked for help at a makolet (which is Hebrew for a “bodega”)
(which is Spanish for a “Kwik-E-Mart”)
(which is “Simpsons”-ese for a “convenience store”).
I said, in broken Hebrew:
“Sorry, I have problem. My phone has no working and I need to call my girl partner. If I purchase something, may I use your telephone machine?”
The owner of the makolet responded, “Of course. But you don’t have to buy anything. What? You think you’re in America? No, this is Israel. Just use the phone.”
Hm.
That’s Israel. Hospitable and selfless when you least expect it.
But try to buy a loaf of bread for less than $5 and prepare for haggling!
Later I bothered a pet supply store owner, and she, too, let me use the phone.
Also, with an attitude of "Of course, go ahead! Don't be silly!"
Israel is a country a kind people, who will gladly lend a hand, help out a stranger… and who will run you over with their cars if you impede their journey even half-a-second.
I suppose that’s the case with most lands, most peoples.
Everybody has their moments.
“We're all heroes if you catch us at the right moment.”
-- John Bubber (Andy Garcia), “Hero”, screenplay by David Webb Peoples
.
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”
-- Hebrew 13:2
Living in a foreign country has forced me to do certain things.
There are many moments in your life when you’re forced to swallow something—
Your first day in the prison laundry room,
smuggling baggies of crack in through the airport
—or living in a foreign country.
The latter has forced me to swallow my pride…
and ask for help and directions
…in a foreign language.
Last Tuesday I was meeting up with my lovely bride on Ben Yehuda Street (the Jerusalem equivalent of Times Square… but much smaller, and more… Jewey).
And BAM!
My cell phone dies!
Oh no!
And I’m supposed to meet my wife SOMEWHERE soon!
These are the only situations where I marvel at life from ten years ago, before cell phones were as ubiquitous as reality shows and … y’know… other things that are everywhere.
(sigh… analogies are not my forte)
But ten years ago—how the devil did people meet up with each other before they could call each other twelve times in a thirty-minute time span?
I was stuck in downtown Jerusalem with no phone.
And all the payphones in Jerusalem rely on phone cards.
What are those?
Who the hell knows???
Not me!
Nor do I know how to purchase one!
I asked for help at a makolet (which is Hebrew for a “bodega”)
(which is Spanish for a “Kwik-E-Mart”)
(which is “Simpsons”-ese for a “convenience store”).
I said, in broken Hebrew:
“Sorry, I have problem. My phone has no working and I need to call my girl partner. If I purchase something, may I use your telephone machine?”
The owner of the makolet responded, “Of course. But you don’t have to buy anything. What? You think you’re in America? No, this is Israel. Just use the phone.”
Hm.
That’s Israel. Hospitable and selfless when you least expect it.
But try to buy a loaf of bread for less than $5 and prepare for haggling!
Later I bothered a pet supply store owner, and she, too, let me use the phone.
Also, with an attitude of "Of course, go ahead! Don't be silly!"
Israel is a country a kind people, who will gladly lend a hand, help out a stranger… and who will run you over with their cars if you impede their journey even half-a-second.
I suppose that’s the case with most lands, most peoples.
Everybody has their moments.
“We're all heroes if you catch us at the right moment.”
-- John Bubber (Andy Garcia), “Hero”, screenplay by David Webb Peoples
.
Saturday, March 20
Wall-E (a pun! how marvelous!)
.
"And Ezra the priest brought the law before the congregation both of men and women, and all that could hear with understanding, upon the first day of the seventh month."
-- Nehemiah 8:2
This past Monday my wife prayed the Shacharit (morning) service.
So what?
She's done that literally HUNDREDS of times in her life.
Well, on Monday she did so at the Western Wall, with other female rabbinical students.
And chairs were thrown at them.
http://www.jta.org/news/article/2010/03/16/1011145/chairs-thrown-at-women-of-the-wall
Let me essplain... no, there is no time... Let me sum up:
First, a short history of The Wall (not Pink Floyd's)
The Western Wall (a.k.a., the Wailing Wall and in Hebrew dubbed simply "the wall"-- ha'Kotel) is nearly 200 feet long, located on the western side of the Temple Mount in Ancient Jerusalem... a place with NO CONTROVERSY WHATSOEVER.
It is the last remaining part of the Temple of Solomon... which it ain't. It's actually the outer wall that surrounded the Second Temple (built around 516 BCE), expanded by King Herod (around 19 BCE), which stood until the Roman Empire invaded and destroyed it (in 70 C.E.)
Above the Western Wall is the golden-domed "Dome of the Rock"-- what's that? Now it's a mosque that houses "The Foundation Stone." And what's THAT?
Oh nothing... except 3 big deals:
1-- The holiest spot in the Temple of Solomon (creatively dubbed "The Holy of Holies", where the High Priest could go only once a year, on Yom Kippur, where the Ten Commandments were kept.
2-- The spot of Mount Moriah where Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac
3-- the spot where Mohammed stepped and rose to the heavens to receive a message from Allah. It is the third-holiest place for Muslims.
Yikes! Why not spread it around?!
I had the same feeling the first time I heard about the human reproductive organs ("You mean we use the same body parts to expel waste AND make babies? Gross...")
You gotta admit, that's a lot of action in one focused area!
Why not have a temple in Lebanon! Or genitalia on your elbow!
... air-tight logic, I know.
Now whenever Jews pray anywhere in the world they face the direction of the wall.
But that's not it.
Because the ultra-Orthodox and traditional Jews pray there very frequently, they kinda call the shots, so there is a mechitzah separating the Men's side of the wall, from the women's side, since traditional Orthodox men and women pray separately.
Even so, when women DO pray and sing at the Wall many, Ortho guys get upset and... ahem... throw metal folding chairs at them.
Yup.
So, on Monday, my wife led Hallel services (special prayer recited on the first of the Month/holidays) and carried the Torah. Big honor! She did great and I am very proud of her.
Yay!
Then, once she and several other women (some who were rabbinical students, some not) went to pray by the Western Wall, on the women's side, a collection of Orthodox, irate, male Jews (like a bunch of silver back gorillas), who clearly loved God and exemplified the dictum "Love Thy Neighbor"... started throwing chairs.
In the words of Jesus, "Forgive them, God, for they are a bunch of douches."
Jesus H. Crackers!
First of all, no one was hurt and my wife and her lady prayer-group were not near the actual chairs.
But still!
What the hell??!!
Is it any wonder that peace in the Middle East eludes us... when Jews are fighting other Jews.
"And I said unto the nobles, and to the rulers, and to the rest of the people, The work is great and large, and we are separated upon the wall, one far from another."
--Nehemiah 4:19
.
"And Ezra the priest brought the law before the congregation both of men and women, and all that could hear with understanding, upon the first day of the seventh month."
-- Nehemiah 8:2
This past Monday my wife prayed the Shacharit (morning) service.
So what?
She's done that literally HUNDREDS of times in her life.
Well, on Monday she did so at the Western Wall, with other female rabbinical students.
And chairs were thrown at them.
http://www.jta.org/news/article/2010/03/16/1011145/chairs-thrown-at-women-of-the-wall
Let me essplain... no, there is no time... Let me sum up:
First, a short history of The Wall (not Pink Floyd's)
The Western Wall (a.k.a., the Wailing Wall and in Hebrew dubbed simply "the wall"-- ha'Kotel) is nearly 200 feet long, located on the western side of the Temple Mount in Ancient Jerusalem... a place with NO CONTROVERSY WHATSOEVER.
It is the last remaining part of the Temple of Solomon... which it ain't. It's actually the outer wall that surrounded the Second Temple (built around 516 BCE), expanded by King Herod (around 19 BCE), which stood until the Roman Empire invaded and destroyed it (in 70 C.E.)
Above the Western Wall is the golden-domed "Dome of the Rock"-- what's that? Now it's a mosque that houses "The Foundation Stone." And what's THAT?
Oh nothing... except 3 big deals:
1-- The holiest spot in the Temple of Solomon (creatively dubbed "The Holy of Holies", where the High Priest could go only once a year, on Yom Kippur, where the Ten Commandments were kept.
2-- The spot of Mount Moriah where Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac
3-- the spot where Mohammed stepped and rose to the heavens to receive a message from Allah. It is the third-holiest place for Muslims.
Yikes! Why not spread it around?!
I had the same feeling the first time I heard about the human reproductive organs ("You mean we use the same body parts to expel waste AND make babies? Gross...")
You gotta admit, that's a lot of action in one focused area!
Why not have a temple in Lebanon! Or genitalia on your elbow!
... air-tight logic, I know.
Now whenever Jews pray anywhere in the world they face the direction of the wall.
But that's not it.
Because the ultra-Orthodox and traditional Jews pray there very frequently, they kinda call the shots, so there is a mechitzah separating the Men's side of the wall, from the women's side, since traditional Orthodox men and women pray separately.
Even so, when women DO pray and sing at the Wall many, Ortho guys get upset and... ahem... throw metal folding chairs at them.
Yup.
So, on Monday, my wife led Hallel services (special prayer recited on the first of the Month/holidays) and carried the Torah. Big honor! She did great and I am very proud of her.
Yay!
Then, once she and several other women (some who were rabbinical students, some not) went to pray by the Western Wall, on the women's side, a collection of Orthodox, irate, male Jews (like a bunch of silver back gorillas), who clearly loved God and exemplified the dictum "Love Thy Neighbor"... started throwing chairs.
In the words of Jesus, "Forgive them, God, for they are a bunch of douches."
Jesus H. Crackers!
First of all, no one was hurt and my wife and her lady prayer-group were not near the actual chairs.
But still!
What the hell??!!
Is it any wonder that peace in the Middle East eludes us... when Jews are fighting other Jews.
"And I said unto the nobles, and to the rulers, and to the rest of the people, The work is great and large, and we are separated upon the wall, one far from another."
--Nehemiah 4:19
.
Thursday, March 18
Runnin' on Empty
.
"I just felt like running."
-- Forrest Gump, celebrity, legend, exemplary retard
“And he was there with the LORD forty days and forty nights; he did neither eat bread, nor drink water. And he wrote upon the tables the words of the covenant, the ten commandments.”
-- Exodus 34:28
Today I ran a half-marathon through the streets of Jerusalem.
21.1 kilometers, 13 miles, one goal: to not lose control of my bowels.
Misson accomplished.
Rabbi Yehuda haLevi, Called “Judah the Prince” because his knowledge was so reknowned, was kind of a racist.
He believed that Jews were superior to all other peoples.
And the basis for his argument?
While on Mount Sinai, getting the Ten Commandments, Moses went 40 days and 40 nights without food or water.
Has anyone else ever done that?
Nope.
Erego, Jews are the best!
The logic is air-tight.
Truth be told, Jews are superior to other nations because we are prodigious love-makers, blue jean-makers, and we can greenlight a movie faster than anyone else.
So there.
Okay, so while the Rabbi’s reasoning is highly suspect, Moses going nearly 6 weeks with no food or water… that’s impressive.
The lesson here?
… Gandhi was a wuss!
No no no.
Maybe.
The message:
Moses really dedicated himself to God, to the Law and to the Israelites, (and showed how INSANE he was).
In order to succeed at anything in life, you gotta have dedication.
I was coincidentally listening to an interview with Movie Producer Art Linson (Fight Club, Heat, Into the Wild, Fast Times at Ridgemont High)
He said:
The ones who are really gonna survive are the ones who say, ‘I don’t care what you say, I’m doing it.’…. You have to be truly, unafraid to fail.”
“Never trust anybody that didn’t walk the last 35 feet.”
-- Buddy Hackett
I forget who said it, but:
“I’m not one of the all-time greats. I may not even be one of the all-time goods. But I AM one of the all-time survivors”.
.
"I just felt like running."
-- Forrest Gump, celebrity, legend, exemplary retard
“And he was there with the LORD forty days and forty nights; he did neither eat bread, nor drink water. And he wrote upon the tables the words of the covenant, the ten commandments.”
-- Exodus 34:28
Today I ran a half-marathon through the streets of Jerusalem.
21.1 kilometers, 13 miles, one goal: to not lose control of my bowels.
Misson accomplished.
Rabbi Yehuda haLevi, Called “Judah the Prince” because his knowledge was so reknowned, was kind of a racist.
He believed that Jews were superior to all other peoples.
And the basis for his argument?
While on Mount Sinai, getting the Ten Commandments, Moses went 40 days and 40 nights without food or water.
Has anyone else ever done that?
Nope.
Erego, Jews are the best!
The logic is air-tight.
Truth be told, Jews are superior to other nations because we are prodigious love-makers, blue jean-makers, and we can greenlight a movie faster than anyone else.
So there.
Okay, so while the Rabbi’s reasoning is highly suspect, Moses going nearly 6 weeks with no food or water… that’s impressive.
The lesson here?
… Gandhi was a wuss!
No no no.
Maybe.
The message:
Moses really dedicated himself to God, to the Law and to the Israelites, (and showed how INSANE he was).
In order to succeed at anything in life, you gotta have dedication.
I was coincidentally listening to an interview with Movie Producer Art Linson (Fight Club, Heat, Into the Wild, Fast Times at Ridgemont High)
He said:
The ones who are really gonna survive are the ones who say, ‘I don’t care what you say, I’m doing it.’…. You have to be truly, unafraid to fail.”
“Never trust anybody that didn’t walk the last 35 feet.”
-- Buddy Hackett
I forget who said it, but:
“I’m not one of the all-time greats. I may not even be one of the all-time goods. But I AM one of the all-time survivors”.
.
Tuesday, March 16
This Land is Whose Land?
.
I woke up at 6:30 this morning.
Not on purpose.
But since I couldn't go back to sleep I decided to go running through the streets of Jerusalem.
I explored some areas I didn't recognize, including a very quiet, grassy hill near the Goldman Promenade: Jerusalem's Tolerance Park and Monument (a big, broken column with an olive tree in the middle).
Looking for it on Google, I found this, from yesterday on
Haaretz.com--
"Work begins on Jerusalem Museum of Tolerance, despite protests"
"The Simon Wiesenthal Center said Monday it hopes to start building its Museum of Tolerance in Jerusalem in the coming months despite a petition to the United Nations to stop construction because the site was once a medieval Muslim cemetery."
-- by the Associated Press
Irony Personified!!!
But really-- whose land is this anyway?
The idea of OWNING land is ridiculous, when you think about it.
That's why Native Americans "sold" parts of the U.S. to the white man for marbles and Bubble Yum, because they logically believed you CAN'T own land, it's the EARTH! We're just renting space.
Temporary guests.
[As a pilgrim, talking to Native Americans]
"Sorry we were so brusque when we first arrived, we didn't realize you OWN the entire country... But you have no system of ownership? Interesting. Hmmm."
-- Eddie Izzard, "Dress to Kill"
But Israel?
Jerusalem?
It belongs to the Jews, right?
It ALWAYS has?
(ahem)
Not quite.
In fact, not at all.
First, an oft-quoted verse-- but you may have overlooked the last part of it :
"And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them ... unto a land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites."
- Exodus 3:8
and
"Thou art the LORD the God, who didst choose... Abraham; And foundest his heart faithful before thee, and madest a covenant with him to give the land of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Jebusites, and the Girgashites, to give it, I say, to his seed, and hast performed thy words; for thou art righteous."
- Nehemiah 9:7-8
"...Which covenant he made with Abraham... and to Israel for an everlasting covenant:
Saying, Unto thee will I give the land of Canaan, the lot of your inheritance:
When they were but a few men in number..."
- Psalm 105
Wow.
The more things change... the less they change!
So the Jews are ENTITLED to the land, because God made a deal with Abraham.
I see.
(ahem)
I pity and envy those Canaanites.
They lost this swatch of sand thousands of years ago, but at least they avoided all the huge headaches that would follow.
Hm.
... still, the produce here is good.
Shalom.
I woke up at 6:30 this morning.
Not on purpose.
But since I couldn't go back to sleep I decided to go running through the streets of Jerusalem.
I explored some areas I didn't recognize, including a very quiet, grassy hill near the Goldman Promenade: Jerusalem's Tolerance Park and Monument (a big, broken column with an olive tree in the middle).
Looking for it on Google, I found this, from yesterday on
Haaretz.com--
"Work begins on Jerusalem Museum of Tolerance, despite protests"
"The Simon Wiesenthal Center said Monday it hopes to start building its Museum of Tolerance in Jerusalem in the coming months despite a petition to the United Nations to stop construction because the site was once a medieval Muslim cemetery."
-- by the Associated Press
Irony Personified!!!
But really-- whose land is this anyway?
The idea of OWNING land is ridiculous, when you think about it.
That's why Native Americans "sold" parts of the U.S. to the white man for marbles and Bubble Yum, because they logically believed you CAN'T own land, it's the EARTH! We're just renting space.
Temporary guests.
[As a pilgrim, talking to Native Americans]
"Sorry we were so brusque when we first arrived, we didn't realize you OWN the entire country... But you have no system of ownership? Interesting. Hmmm."
-- Eddie Izzard, "Dress to Kill"
But Israel?
Jerusalem?
It belongs to the Jews, right?
It ALWAYS has?
(ahem)
Not quite.
In fact, not at all.
First, an oft-quoted verse-- but you may have overlooked the last part of it :
"And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them ... unto a land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites."
- Exodus 3:8
and
"Thou art the LORD the God, who didst choose... Abraham; And foundest his heart faithful before thee, and madest a covenant with him to give the land of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Jebusites, and the Girgashites, to give it, I say, to his seed, and hast performed thy words; for thou art righteous."
- Nehemiah 9:7-8
"...Which covenant he made with Abraham... and to Israel for an everlasting covenant:
Saying, Unto thee will I give the land of Canaan, the lot of your inheritance:
When they were but a few men in number..."
- Psalm 105
Wow.
The more things change... the less they change!
So the Jews are ENTITLED to the land, because God made a deal with Abraham.
I see.
(ahem)
I pity and envy those Canaanites.
They lost this swatch of sand thousands of years ago, but at least they avoided all the huge headaches that would follow.
Hm.
... still, the produce here is good.
Shalom.
Turning Tricks
.
“For by means of a whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread.”
-- Proverbs 6:26
Last month I was in Venice for a Shabbat.
That Friday evening I ate dinner with the Chabad. This is a savvy organization comprised of traditional, black-hat-sportin’ Orthodox Jews, who try to appeal to 20-something non-Orthodox Jews. They also serve whiskey!
L’chayim!
While I was there I chatted with a fellow “non-Ortho” guy named Scott who was from Seattle. Scott informed me that he was globe-trotting and just came from Spain.
While in Spain he encountered numerous prostitutes!
L’chayim again!
Scott said that Espagna is teeming with women of ill repute, particularly in Barcelona.
(Lonely Planet… not in Barcelona, apparently)
The women would just walk up to him, put one hand on his groin and say a number.
“You mean, they ranked you, like 3 out of 4 stars?” I asked.
No, he said, they’d say a price.
“Oh, like a contractor gives you an estimate.”
Um, I guess, he said.
“In Spanish?”
Of course.
“Well… as long as the price was between 1 and 10, I would understand.”
Thank you, Sesame Street.
Speaking of which, you didn’t see many hookers strutting down Sesame Street.
“Hey sailor, that sure is a big… bird.”
i also think “C” would not be for “cookie.”
Good enough for me.
(Bert and Ernie? Something tells me they’re not interested).
.
“For by means of a whorish woman a man is brought to a piece of bread.”
-- Proverbs 6:26
Last month I was in Venice for a Shabbat.
That Friday evening I ate dinner with the Chabad. This is a savvy organization comprised of traditional, black-hat-sportin’ Orthodox Jews, who try to appeal to 20-something non-Orthodox Jews. They also serve whiskey!
L’chayim!
While I was there I chatted with a fellow “non-Ortho” guy named Scott who was from Seattle. Scott informed me that he was globe-trotting and just came from Spain.
While in Spain he encountered numerous prostitutes!
L’chayim again!
Scott said that Espagna is teeming with women of ill repute, particularly in Barcelona.
(Lonely Planet… not in Barcelona, apparently)
The women would just walk up to him, put one hand on his groin and say a number.
“You mean, they ranked you, like 3 out of 4 stars?” I asked.
No, he said, they’d say a price.
“Oh, like a contractor gives you an estimate.”
Um, I guess, he said.
“In Spanish?”
Of course.
“Well… as long as the price was between 1 and 10, I would understand.”
Thank you, Sesame Street.
Speaking of which, you didn’t see many hookers strutting down Sesame Street.
“Hey sailor, that sure is a big… bird.”
i also think “C” would not be for “cookie.”
Good enough for me.
(Bert and Ernie? Something tells me they’re not interested).
.
Monday, March 15
1,2,3
.
"and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey..."
-- Exodus 3:8
Sitting in our apartment here in lovely Jerusalem, the wife and I celebrated the Ides of March like any happy couple: We just watched the 2009 film "The Taking of Pelham 1,2,3" with John Travolta and Denzel Washington.
The four of us had a fine time (fyi: Travolta loved Raisinets).
The film follows a several terrorists, lead by Travolta, who hijack a New York City subway train, and Denzel has to stop them.
I turned to my wife and said,
"Thank goodness we're living in a country with NO subway! That way, there are no terrorists or guns. God bless Jerusalem!"
The Land flowing with Milk and Irony!
.
"and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey..."
-- Exodus 3:8
Sitting in our apartment here in lovely Jerusalem, the wife and I celebrated the Ides of March like any happy couple: We just watched the 2009 film "The Taking of Pelham 1,2,3" with John Travolta and Denzel Washington.
The four of us had a fine time (fyi: Travolta loved Raisinets).
The film follows a several terrorists, lead by Travolta, who hijack a New York City subway train, and Denzel has to stop them.
I turned to my wife and said,
"Thank goodness we're living in a country with NO subway! That way, there are no terrorists or guns. God bless Jerusalem!"
The Land flowing with Milk and Irony!
.
Friday, March 12
Happy Accidents
.
"... neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbour: I am the LORD."
-- Leviticus 19:16
Usually this is translated to mean "do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor."
I got married 9 months ago.
My wife and I came to live in Israel 5 months ago.
It's treacherous.
I can't walk down the street without worrying.
I am paranoid. I am neurotic.
Too much Larry David and "Final Destination" movies.
I'm afraid of traffic.
I see a cars speeding, cars backing out of a drive-way, a lady on a bike, a dad pushing a stroller, a cat underneath a parked car... like a video game of potential tragedy... so many things that can go wrong.
I know what you're thinking:
"C'mon, think of things as glass half full"
Sure, half full... of bloody, severed fingers!
... of a concert pianist!!!
Bottom line: tragedies and accidents occur all the time.
And sometimes... they don't.
I often go running through the streets of Jerusalem.
Just like dudes from the Bible: David, Solomon and Jesus did... when they were kids... probably.
Yesterday I was running along somewhere, got a phone call from my new wife, it turned into different kind of run-- errand!
Yay!
So I turned around and started heading home along Derekh Beyt Lekhem (in English: Way of Bread House... or Bethlehem).
Then I passed a gas station-- and slip!-- an old man fell down.
He slipped and landed on his side, in front of a car that was about to pull out of the station.
I moseyed on over and helped the fellow to his feet.
"Are you all right?" I asked him, but in Hebrew (so it's literally, "You in order? All good?")
He responded in English.
We returned to the sidewalk, started talking-- he's American, moved to Israel 35 years ago.
"I was just coming from a Shiva call. I usually walk on the other side of the street... now I know why."
He chuckled. I smiled.
"You never know what's gonna happen."
I agreed.
We chatted and walked together for another 10 minutes.
He told me his condensed life story-- focusing on how he met his wife.
"We've been married 54 years. I'm 82. She's 7 years younger than me. Maybe 8 years. I dunno. I think she's 75. Anyway I'll tell ya something-- she's the best looking 75-year old I've ever seen."
Once we got to Emek Refa'im, he gave me his address and told me to swing by any Shabbat afternoon.
"We're old, so if you knock and nobody answers, give it a minute. We move slow."
We shook hands and parted ways.
I called my wife, told her I was on my way.
I walked the rest of the way home.
Not worrying about traffic.
Sometimes nothing goes wrong.
.
"... neither shalt thou stand against the blood of thy neighbour: I am the LORD."
-- Leviticus 19:16
Usually this is translated to mean "do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor."
I got married 9 months ago.
My wife and I came to live in Israel 5 months ago.
It's treacherous.
I can't walk down the street without worrying.
I am paranoid. I am neurotic.
Too much Larry David and "Final Destination" movies.
I'm afraid of traffic.
I see a cars speeding, cars backing out of a drive-way, a lady on a bike, a dad pushing a stroller, a cat underneath a parked car... like a video game of potential tragedy... so many things that can go wrong.
I know what you're thinking:
"C'mon, think of things as glass half full"
Sure, half full... of bloody, severed fingers!
... of a concert pianist!!!
Bottom line: tragedies and accidents occur all the time.
And sometimes... they don't.
I often go running through the streets of Jerusalem.
Just like dudes from the Bible: David, Solomon and Jesus did... when they were kids... probably.
Yesterday I was running along somewhere, got a phone call from my new wife, it turned into different kind of run-- errand!
Yay!
So I turned around and started heading home along Derekh Beyt Lekhem (in English: Way of Bread House... or Bethlehem).
Then I passed a gas station-- and slip!-- an old man fell down.
He slipped and landed on his side, in front of a car that was about to pull out of the station.
I moseyed on over and helped the fellow to his feet.
"Are you all right?" I asked him, but in Hebrew (so it's literally, "You in order? All good?")
He responded in English.
We returned to the sidewalk, started talking-- he's American, moved to Israel 35 years ago.
"I was just coming from a Shiva call. I usually walk on the other side of the street... now I know why."
He chuckled. I smiled.
"You never know what's gonna happen."
I agreed.
We chatted and walked together for another 10 minutes.
He told me his condensed life story-- focusing on how he met his wife.
"We've been married 54 years. I'm 82. She's 7 years younger than me. Maybe 8 years. I dunno. I think she's 75. Anyway I'll tell ya something-- she's the best looking 75-year old I've ever seen."
Once we got to Emek Refa'im, he gave me his address and told me to swing by any Shabbat afternoon.
"We're old, so if you knock and nobody answers, give it a minute. We move slow."
We shook hands and parted ways.
I called my wife, told her I was on my way.
I walked the rest of the way home.
Not worrying about traffic.
Sometimes nothing goes wrong.
.
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