הכיף הוא על הכיפאק

Last night I attended a concert in Tel Aviv that was a full decade in the making. Lets flash back to the late nineties for a moment. Yoyo's were at the height of popularity, while Pokemon were just making a splash. Everyone knew how to dance the Macarena. People the world over were panicked by the Y2K bug, except in the U.S. where everyone was more concerned with whether or not the President got a blow job in the oval office. And back home, I was holed up in my bedroom listening to Kaveret, Tipex, and a groundbreaking Israeli hip hop group called Shabak Samech. My fascination with Israeli culture would grow and diversify as the years passed, culminating in this 9 month sabbatical here in Haifa. Last night, I met Eli and his roommate Daniel in north Tel Aviv to see Shabak Samech in concert, performing live as a group for only the second time since 2000.

Me and my ticket stub.

Their music style is silly, bordering on ridiculous at times. One of their most famous songs has only one line: שום דבר לא כבד מדי בשביל הפיל שלי. Literally, it means "nothing is too heavy for my elephant." I'm sure its some kind of inside joke with the band and they think it is hilarious to hear a concert hall full of people chanting it along with them. Because of the general goofiness of the act, the crowd tended to skew young. If not for this one eminently creepy 30 something guy who was trying to dance with a group of teenage girls, I might have felt like the oldest guy in the house.

Clearly we were excited to be at the show.

In spite of the predominantly teenage crowd, the show was phenomenal. They were on stage for nearly 3 full hours, and played just about every known song they have from the last 15 years. They especially brought the house down with one of Mook E's solo songs,
.כולם מדברים על שלום, אף אחד מדבר על צדק

Shabak Samech

We generally avoided the pit area in front of the stage, because we had jackets with us that we wanted to put down, and because it was a good 15 degrees hotter crammed into the crowd. Even so, I couldn't resist the allure to spend some time jumping, dancing and screaming with the rest of the lunatics. For your viewing pleasure, here is a clip from last nights concert. It really captures what a lot of the show was like.


Dropping the bomb.

That night the three of us crashed at Daniel's parent's house in a small, wealthy neighborhood called צהלה, just outside of Tel Aviv. This morning I woke up first and had tea with Daniel's parents before the other gentleman rose. Around 12:30, I said my goodbyes and hopped on a bus bound for the Arlozoroff train station, where I would catch my train back to Haifa. Here is where the madness began. I'm not terrificly familiar with Tel Aviv, and the bus I was on took a very roundabout route, actually going out west through Ramat Gan before coming back into the city. Because of my poor knowledge of the city, I badly missed my stop and got off in south Tel Aviv, by the Azrieli towers. From there I was able to find the Hashalom train station.

Closing out the concert.

I was cursing my luck at this point, even though I was relieved to have located a train station. The runaround cost me a half hour, which is a problem on a Friday afternoon when the buses in Haifa stop running shortly after 3. I quickly lost the sourpuss look though, when one of our madrichim, Or, came running up to me on the platform! Only in Israel does this happen. Apparently he was hanging out with friends the night before in Tel Aviv and was headed back to Haifa also. We chilled and talked the whole way north. Of course my concerns regarding the bus schedule turned out to be rooted in harsh reality. I had missed the last 46 bus, the only line that runs directly from the central bus station in Haifa up to campus. I hopped a 131 up to the Horev Center, and then transferred to the 24 which took me home. Israeli public transit is frustrating sometimes, but I was too tired to worry much about it. I headed back to my room to shower and get changed, and now I'm ready for Shabbat dinner and then some quality time with friends afterwards. Classes finally resume next week. Shabbat shalom.

The Return Of Moadon Bishul

We're back, and it feels so good! After a long intersession where our dinners were usually limited to 3 or 4 people, we've moved the day of the cooking club to Tuesday and made the effort to invite a lot of the new international students tonight. It paid off, big time. Because it was a cold and rainy night, we decided to make a big pot of chili. We ended up with 11 people at dinner, maybe our biggest since we began this whole thing. People meshed and the conversation flowed seamlessly, the food was hearty and tasty, and everyone went home happy. I think we're on to something good.

Now for something totally different. Last night I was sitting in the lobby of the dorms at my computer, talking to Elliot Gordon, another new American student. He told me he was from Woodmere, NY. I know a girl from Woodmere, Sheryl Gordon, who I went on Ramah Seminar with many summers back. I rolled the Jewish Geography dice and asked him if he knew her. His response was classic: "She's only my older sister! You're Eddie from Chicago..... You were at my house!" And indeed, I was. I was quite surprised although I probably shouldn't have been. This stuff just has a way of happening. It is a small, small Jewish world.

Getting My Shit Together

Today was one of those days for doing all the unpleasant things that need doing. I woke up around 9 and the mood to be productive came over me. I've learned from experience that if I ignore that feeling, it could be a long time before I feel it again. First step was gathering all the clothing that littered the floor of my bedroom into my laundry bag and hauling it up to the laundry room. Once my clothes were in the wash, I tackled the filth that has been accumulating in my bedroom. I gave the room the complete treatment: Garbage was thrown out, the multitude of unnecessary papers and read magazines were gathered and removed, dust bunnies were ruthlessly swept up and tossed out as well. I washed the floor, I cleaned my entire bathroom, and I reorganized the rest of my things.

I picked up my clean and now dry laundry and put it all away nicely. I'm especially looking forward to having clean sheets to sleep on tonight. My productivity mood had mostly faded by now, but I had one more big errand to run. I've been running dangerously low on food for days. The pantry was empty and the fridge was almost empty. I headed to the Super-Sal and stocked up on everything I could need. I'm now set for 2 weeks on perishables, and I've got canned and dry food for a month. It wasn't fun transporting everything home on a bus, but there is no satisfaction quite like looking up at a full pantry!

Barbara's Birthday

Barbara's birthday was yesterday and we took her out for dinner. Everyone met in the German Colony at the Faces cafe, which we first ate at the day we walked from Mercaz HaCarmel to downtown. The food was fabulous as usual. We ordered several salads and entrees to share, and wrapped everything up with this unbelievable cake. Lina brought sparkler candles and Barbara made her wish and blew out her candles.

29 candles go out.

The dinner was a lot of fun, and a little outrageous as well. Nate, Lina and I serenaded Barbara for her birthday. It drew some funny looks, both from other people at our table and people at other tables. There is a reason I've been told I have chutzpa. No one here had more than a glass of wine, so this was just us!



After dinner, we came back and continued the celebration at the dorms. We threw a dance party at Nate's flat and got everyone in the right frame of mind with the powerful mix of nargilah, Turkish coffee and wine. I went to bed at 3 A.M. Barbara is going home in a week so it was a nice chance to throw one final party with her. Changes are coming to the international school once again. Shabbat shalom.

(Left to right) Sebastian, Barbara, Shoaq, Nate, Lina, and lil' old me.

The Mossad "Allegedly" Gets Their Man

Imad Mughniyeh, arch terrorist and a zealot who helped to found Hizballah in the early 80's was blown straight to hell Monday night in a car bombing in Damascus. My condolences to his loved ones. Predictably enough, the Mossad has refused to accept credit for the assassination, but they are still high fiving each other up front and behind the back. Knesset member and former head of Mossad Danny Yatom had this to say about the assassination: ""Mughniyah was one of the most dangerous and cruel terrorists of all time. There are numerous intelligence agencies and countries that have been pursuing him, and the one that was successful in reaching him [has proven itself] - to have a high intelligence and operational capability." I can almost picture him snickering as he said this, patting himself and his coworkers on the back for a job well done.

In a response just as predictable as Israel's, Hezballah, Hamas, Syria and Iran have pointed the finger squarely at Israel and issued their tired, stereotyped responses to the "Zionist crimes" and swore bloody revenge. Maintaining their strict policy of tight lipped plausible deniability, the office of the Prime Minister released this statement: “Israel rejects the attempt by terrorist elements to ascribe to it any involvement whatsoever in this incident.” I'm not entirely certain, but I believe that this statement, when translated into Farsi reads "fuck ya'll!!!!!!"

Pitchers And Catchers Report

Every religion has their festivals, many of which are long and unnecesarily drawn out. Jews have 8 long days of cholesterol and matza induced constipation. Christians get 6 weeks of bad music and bogus "War on Christmas" stories on Fox News. Muslims have the pleasure of skipping lunch for an entire month. For Cubs fans, the protracted holiday season begins today: pitchers and catchers have reported to Mesa! Glory, glory hallelujah!

Of course today is ultimately little more than an embellished landmark on the road from the darkness of the offseason to the sublimity of baseball's rebirth. If opening day is Christmas, than today is a mere Black Friday. "But Eddie", you'll protest, "this is a broken analogy! Baseball isn't a religious experience!" Tell that to these whackos: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ib8s3Ozgccc

So today, on this the holiest day of the month of February, we pray that the baseball gods will deliver us swiftly to the regular season, devoid of any hot tub or fungo bat related injuries, and perhaps they will see fit to nominate a sucker to take Jason Marquis off our hands. Amen.

(I get the distinct impression I'll be atoning for this post on Yom Kippur.)

Haifus - Interruptus

Last night was supposed to be the long awaited rematch between Maccabi Haifa and Beitar Jerusalem, following this 0-0 debacle at Kiryat Eliezer stadium in early November. Omri and I joined a score of Israelis in the dorm moadon to watch the game. Everything started off the way I figured it would - fans cheering and taunting each other, players going for each others throats etc... Then without warning, the power at Tedy stadium in Jerusalem failed. The field and stands went dark and thousands of cell phones were immediately lit. At first the fans took this as a sign to up their baiting to deafening levels, but after it became apparent that the game wasn't going to start up again any time soon, everyone quieted down and just stood waiting. The power company tried to kick start the generator, but when black smoke started billowing out onto the field, they gave up. The game was canceled and will need to be rescheduled. In the meantime, this just reinforces in my mind that everything in Jerusalem is shitty and falling apart. אם אשכחך ירושלים תשכח ימיני... Riiiigggghhhhtttt.