Well, It Was Fun While It Lasted...Get Ready, I'm About to Get Serious Again

Any of my long-time readers notice the serious amount of posts over the last month? Let's just say that I've had a fair amount of time on my hands. April officially became my most prolific month of writing last week and with a few more good days, the previous record of 21 posts in December was going to be left behind like a piece of half-eaten shnitzel at closing time. (I don't know what it means either, I'm riffing, baby!)

Much as it pains me to make fun of this wonderful country less than the current pace (especially after hitting 'refresh' on my statcounter every 3.4 seconds since March), be prepared, it's about to happen. For a good cause.

Anyone who knows me knows that my connection to this country comes from many years of involvement in Young Judaea, both as a kid and as a professional. (Ech omrim "product placement"? I should really get paid for these plugs. "I sure do love blogging! And when I'm done, nothing hits the spot like a big-ass bag of bissli grill! Those salty corkscrewed critters go crunch! and remind me what it means to be Israeli. So head on down to your local makolet today and remember who sentcha!" cha-CHING! 10 shekels)

This just paid for my arnona.

In the past few months, I've done a few different jobs to "pay the bills" as we say while watching some other really amazing things materialize in my spare time (like the recent Ynet article for example, if you didn't already receive it from me on email, Facebook, Twitter, Friendster, MySpace, postal mail, carrier pigeon, Morse code...)

However, all the exciting stuff hasn't changed the fact that something's not right in my life. Life ain't easy as an oleh chadash and anyone who's ever done it knows what I'm talking about. I'm not going to go into detail but there are ups and downs. One of my personal stumbling blocks to my complete surprise has turned out to be Hebrew. A year and a half ago, I was flying, learning left and right and actually noticing improvement on a daily basis. Yeah, that changed. For a number of reasons, I think my Hebrew has stayed the same and truthfully even gotten worse since this time last year. Any desire I had to make flash cards, translate hip-hop songs into Hebrew (I was singing the chorus of "Ice Ice Baby" to my friend Ziv back in high school), and call my friends fun and inappropriate words has sadly dwindled into nothing. Not being able to communicate is one of the most frustrating feelings I experience and drives me batty. Making a decent salary and making people laugh at arsim just isn't enough...something's missing.

What do you mean "Kerach Kerach Tinok" isn't the correct translation?

Drastic times call for drastic measures. I simply am unable to work for the man, just as I wasn't able to back in the day before I made the big switch to the Jewish world. Good bye, decent pay and short commute. Hello, new job! Tomorrow I begin my working for Israel Experience, the tour operator within the Jewish Agency for Israel. I'll be doing the exact opposite of what I did in New York for Young Judaea: convincing families not to come to Israel for the experience of a lifetime.

(Did anyone believe that? If so, please stop reading.)

Instead of marketing youth programs, I'll be handling the other side of the coin, actually building the programs from this side of the ocean. One of my biggest clients will be birthright israel and I'll be picking hostels, tour guides, hikes, speakers, etc. and making sure the group's needs are being met when they're here. It should be incredibly rewarding and fulfilling and I'll eventually be reporting to someone I've worked with before, the former director of YJ's national summer camp in New York, Camp Tel Yehudah. (Isn't "camp" a weird first name? His parents were hippies. Ok, did anyone believe that? I am losing new readers by the paragraph.)

The work will be great, the environment will be a HEBREW-speaking one, and I think I'm going to love it. As for the daily posts? Well, it was fun while it lasted.

At least I left my last job laughing. I'm sorry, there's nothing funnier than an Israeli singing "Spi-dehr-peeg? Spi-dehr-peeg!" in a heavy Middle Eastern accent. I really need a hidden camera.

This is Why I Created the "Benji's Getting Serious" Category

We interrupt this program for me to break character for a minute. When I started this blog, it was the classic traveler’s journal for family and friends about my life, expectations, experiences, etc. It didn’t take long for me to find my voice and start making fun of everything here (because if you don’t as an immigrant, you might go insane). Rare is the occasion that I share too much about myself, thoughts, feelings, etc. This would be the good time to make the requisite April Fool’s joke about deciding to stop writing this blog out of some ideological reason but I’m a day late and lo ba li (I don’t feel like it).

I just wanted to share the feeling last night I had of being really PUMPED UP. B’kitzur, my friends know I first did stand-up comedy over 10 years ago, on and off for the next several years, more off than on, with years completely off at times. Finally, after numerous efforts over the years to dedicate myself (which truthfully never even got off the ground nor became more than meaningless declarations), I decided before last summer that it was time, and this time I meant it. A series of experiences were enough to “flip the switch” inside me, so to speak. Since September, I have been on a mission, performing at open mic nights in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, paid gigs here and there, private shows for groups, even dragging my butt literally out of bed on Erev Rosh Hashana to the open mic down the street which began past 12:30 AM if memory serves because the voice in my head was yelling at me again and I couldn’t stand to hear it any longer (I was literally lying in bed going to sleep, I didn’t literally drag my butt…is that possible?) It only took a couple of months for me to discern real significant improvement and it’s continued since then with great feedback throughout.

Many Tuesday nights I go to the open mic night at the Camel Comedy Club in Tel Aviv, one of the few comedy clubs in Israel (and I’m talking less than five…another example of how America is the land of everything and lots of it. And by the way, can we do something about that name? This country’s diplomats and shlichim are paid to teach the world that we have thriving cities, cutting-edge technology, and beautiful culture…can we stop giving the American teenagers camel rides when they come here?)

I hate riding my camel in Tel Aviv. Impossible to find parking.

Except for a couple of times, I have been the only American there and I spend my five minutes performing in English for an Israeli crowd who may or may not understand what the heck I’m talking about although to my surprise, the mostly teenage crowd does get most of it (I do however have to change some words here and there and throw in a gratuitous F-word which makes them laugh. "Ha, hu amar ‘fahk’! Ha ha!" People often ask me if I perform in Hebrew and while the answer is no, I have realized that not doing so keeps certain doors closed which I haven’t spent much time worrying about. (There are plenty of opportunities to perform here for English-speakers and plain and simple, my Hebrew ain’t even CLOSE to being good enough…and did I mention that life is busy as an oleh chadash? I have about 485 more important things to worry about like when I’m going to get my Israeli drivers license, buying furniture, and whatever else is always on my to do list. Switching over to Hebrew? One day…)

What am I saying? That although I usually do well at the Camel, there are never any guarantees when I am NOT SPEAKING THE NATIVE LANGUAGE OF THE PAYING AUDIENCE. (Yes, I have spent some time thinking about the complete insanity of this.) I have always believed that as long as I perform in English with the inherent risk that some or a significant percentage of the audience on any given night just won’t get it, I would not be asked by the management to move up and perform another night of the week in a higher-level show. And despite regularly getting one of the better receptions on Tuesday nights, no one has talked to me about moving up.

Until last night. As I was on my way out the door, one of the guys working who I’d not met before called me into his office. I probably didn’t catch every word and don’t even remember what he did say aside from the words “mitkadem” (advance) and “Yom Revi’i” (Wednesday). In this area of my life, I’ve taken most things in stride over the past few months. I am happy to admit that this to me was a beeg deel and it was hard for me to control my excitement as he was talking to me. I took the guy’s number, told him I’d call him, and expect to be on stage there next Wednesday. Five minutes later, I was outside breaking the news to my friends Etan and Amos and an Israeli comic Eyal. After my explaining that this was “a real show!”, Eyal brought me down to earth by saying “well, it’s not exactly a real show”. Ha ha…G-d forbid anything is better than just b’seder in this country. Ok, you know what? I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if the crowd is bigger, it’s not a paying gig, I probably get a few more minutes, I know before hand that I’m going on because it’s a set lineup and not an open mic, and that’s what I know, not to mention that they should be asking me to move up because of the reception I’ve gotten. But I don’t care. I moved to another country, am doing stand-up comedy, and am making people laugh IN ANOTHER BLEEPING LANGUAGE. In a place where olim chadashim often spend their time feeling like idiots, freirs, inadequate, and occasionally wanting to pull their hair out of their head, this is an victory. (Nefesh B'Nefesh is going to put a hit on me if I keep scaring away Diaspora Jews. If I disappear, you know who did it.) I may look back in two weeks and say “what was I talking about?” This is no different from what I was doing before and almost certainly my goals will continue to change, making Thursday nights the beeg deal.

But for now, even for a short time, I’m appreciating this and tooting my own horn. Because wanting something, working hard for it, and getting it is what life’s all about. Or something like that. And the day I perform just five minutes in broken Hebrew and get even one laugh? I won’t even know how to describe that.

Whew…

Update: I just talked to my friend Tal who also performs on Wednesdays. Remember SAT analogies? Tuesday is to Wednesday...as Wednesday is to Thursday. It’s basically the next level, no big surprise. You do that for who knows how long and if you’re good enough, they move you to the next night, a more professional show. Tal confirmed that of course you get more time on Wednesday (8 minutes maybe?) and the quality of performers is higher although the crowds recently have not been as big as Tuesdays. And perhaps the best thing is that it’s more stage time. I can still go on Tuesdays to practice and work stuff out and then treat Wednesday like more of a performance. And everyone in stand-up knows that the #1, #2, and #3 most important things in stand-up is to find a way to get onstage.

Purim in Sderot (Better Late than Never)

Is it too late to talk about Purim? Because of camera issues, I didn't have my pictures till now but I don't want to let it go by without at least a quick recap. (Usually when I preface an email with "in short", I proceed to write a 75 page thesis but this will probably be quick. For some nice, emotional gobbledygook about Purim in Israel, see last year's recap.)

(Two more quick things:
1) Gobbledygook is in Wikipedia and would you believe there's more than just a sentence? YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TO SCROLL DOWN TO READ IT ALL. WHO IS TAKING THE TIME TO ENTER THIS CONTENT???

2) Ech omrim "gobbledygook"?)

What does a cat on a tustus have to do with gobbledygook?

Nothing. So let's move on.

Holidays rule in this country. Thursday night I went to a party at a bar thrown by the organization of birthright alumni. I am the first to brag about my history of great costumes. This year did not add to the list. I am playing the "I was busy" card; only a couple of days before Erev Purim, I started to brainstorm. Sadly, those around me didn't share my vision. I was discouraged into saving "slutty separation fence" for another year.

At the 11th hour, I was running around Dizengoff Center begging the cashier at Home Center to lend me her red overall uniform to no avail. I couldn't find a Pizza Meter nearby to get one of their delivery uniforms and my El Al flight attendant friend didn't get back to me. Sigh, here we go.

One sheet of construction paper...check.
One cardboard box out of a dumpster...check.
Scissors....check.
String...check.
Marker...check.

And voila!

Hamantaschen Post-Iran.


Don't worry, nobody at the party got it either.

Five corners? Nuclear radiation? Never mind. Perhaps "nuclear Hamantaschen" or "Dimona Hamantaschen" would have made more sense....or maybe not. Hey, you take chances...they can't all be winners. I WILL NOT DUMB DOWN MY COSTUMES FOR THE MASSES!!!

(Ok, I'm over it.)

Friday morning, rather than go to any of the big outdoor festivals, I did something much more important to me: drive to Sderot. I've wanted to go for a couple of months and was never able to make it happen. If you don't know what Sderot is, I don't know where to tell you to begin. Here are a few links.

Before things quieted down a little following the incursion into Gaza, people in this country were just so angry and fed up with the situation there and the government's failure to do anything. It's strange for me to be here while it's happening. During the last intifada and especially while recruiting for Young Judaea Israel Programs, I was so frustrated by the way the vast majority of the American Jewish community just completely stopped visiting. I feel like those Israelis who have channeled their emotions into an actual visit are few and far between. I was fortunate enough to be able to come on a Federation solidarity mission in 2003 and there was no way I wasn't going to get to Sderot at some point.

So Friday morning, I awoke at 7 AM to drive with my friend Tal. On the way to meet him, I picked up a couple of oznei Haman (Hamantaschen) to give him as mishloach manot. According to a wise, Jewish man I know (let's call him The Internet), there are four mitzvot to fulfill during Purim.

1) Hearing the Megillah
2) Giving to the poor
3) Giving mishloach manot
4) Listening to Milli Vanilli's "Girl You Know It's True"

Just making sure you're paying attention. #4 is eat at a seuda (festive meal).

Tal and I with our Milli Vanilli costume starter kit.

I was hoping to do all four this year until I was told that, "Sorry, moron, the Megillah's only on Thursday night." Who can keep track with Shushan Purim and Purim Meshulash? (By the way, if you didn't get it, I am the moron.)

Fine, so shopping in Sderot was my version of giving to the poor (or in this case, needy) and I planned to have some friends over for dinner Friday night. As Meat Loaf said, "three out of four ain't bad." Or something.

Tal and I got to Sderot around an hour after leaving Tel Aviv. At first, I thought, "Man, the streets are empty! It's a ghost town...how sad!" before realizing that I was in a small town at 9 AM on a Friday morning. I'm pretty sure that had nothing to do with falling rockets. This wasn't exactly Gotham City. We parked the car and started walking around the small city center.

The first people we approached were two kids selling newspapers on the street. "Yediot Achronot! Chamesh shekel!" I gave the first kid ten and told him to keep the change. A few feet away, different paper, same situation. Didn't matter that I probably wouldn't read 100 Hebrew words. I was there to show my support and help the sagging economy. How to show your support besides spending money? Strike up a conversation with a local. I ask the first kid, "So what's it like living here?" He replies, "I live in Beersheva."

What the...??? HEY, I WANT MY TEN SHEKELS BACK!!! Punk.

We continued down the block and came across a group of yeshiva boys dancing in the streets for the chag. That was nice. It was uplifting to see some happiness there after what they've been through. At some point while discussing the amounts of money we were going to spend that day, one of us said, "Hey! What are we doing in Tel Aviv? We should come here and pose as locals! We'll make a fortune!"

A resident of Sderot who was nice enough to drive me around town.

Any resemblance to a middle-class Long Island native is strictly a coincidence.

Then the shopping commenced. We bought a few things at a hardware store, a food store, and somehow resisted the urge to buy ars-y jeans (the dangling zipper-chains attached to the back pockets made it easy).

Next stop: cafe for breakfast. Two things to say about this:
1) The waitress's costume was really cute.

"Rak lo tseva adom!" Just not the color red. "Tseva adom" is the name of the alarm that sounds when a rocket is about to hit. Her shirt had stickers of all different colors...except for red. I loved it. Great.

2) The waitress spilled coffee all over me. Aleph, it wasn't hot, and bet, I thought, "I'm gonna come to Sderot and complain about coffee??? Not a chance." I just smiled.

See, folks, Sderot really is dangerous.

Last stop, supermarket. I spent a bunch of cash there and, not surprisingly, I've already let some of the vegetables go bad....what else is new?

After about three-and-a-half hours, we headed home. On the way out, we passed one of the protective bus stops.

A closer look revealed the sign's donors...

How about that, my friends in Atlanta? See where your dollars go? For those of you American Jews who give on Super Sunday, kol hakavod (loose translation="good job"). Those who don't, I hope you'll consider. (Ok, I just went to the Atlanta Federation's website and see that this identical picture already resides there. So much for me winning the Pulitzer.)

So how was it? Quiet. Normal. No sirens. Just another day in Sderot. (Wasn't that a Jon Secada song? 1992 in the house!)

I'm so glad I went. It's important to support Israel these days and the people of Sderot need it. So whether it's visiting, giving money, sending care packages to the kids who are surely going to have issues to deal with as they get older, writing a letter to an American senator, or whatever...I hope everyone does something.

Better late than never....chag sameach.

(Did I say "quick"? I meant "meaningful".)


Live in Jerusalem and looking to help? This just in:

Fair for Vendors from Sderot and the Gaza Periphery, April 11th, 10:30- 15:00

The situation in Sderot and the Gaza periphery is difficult, and has taken its toll on all of the area's residents professionally, personally, and financially. Looking for a way to get involved without making the long drive?

Come do your pre-Pesach shopping at The Merkaz and support businesses from Sderot and the surrounding areas. The atmosphere will be festive, with fun gypsy music and stands with vendors of all sorts.

The entrance fee is only 10 shekels, free for children, to cover costs.
Please come out in support of these great business owners. For more information, contact Deena at 02-561-9165 *203 or at deena@themerkaz.org

Entrance to The Merkaz is at 7A Dor Dor VeDorshav, to Mozeon Hateva on Hamagid Street.

When are Elections Again?

Is this some kind of joke?

Israel has informed the Palestinian Authority that it will stop pursuing 32 Fatah gunmen in the West Bank, a PA security official said Sunday. The official said the decision to pardon the gunmen belonging to Fatah's armed wing, the Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, came after a three-month "trial period" during which they had refrained from carrying out attacks against Israel.

TRIAL PERIOD??? Trial periods are for Adobe Acrobat, not for TERRORISTS!!! "Ehhh....dees guy tried to keel me! I want to return him. (pause) B'seder, for store credit then!"

"Not satisfied after 90 days?
Yiyeh b'seder! Do you have the original receipt?"

"The names of the gunmen have been completely removed from Israel's list of wanted Palestinians," the official said. "From now on the gunmen will be allowed to move around freely and without fear of being targeted by Israel."

Have you ever tried to get off a telemarketer's list? IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!!! Unless you're a terrorist apparently. Next time Jerusalem Post calls me, I'm telling them my name is Jachnun Ahmed Malawach.

Over the past three months, the gunmen stayed in PA security installations after surrendering their weapons and signing a pledge to refrain from terror activities.

What this article failed to mention is that the gunmen pinky swore, crossed their hearts and hoped to die, and sang N'Sync's "This I Promise You."

From right to left: Justin Timberlake, Lance Bassafat...

"Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus...However He Eats Traif on Shabbas"

A few days ago, I received an email from my 12 year-old Lubavitch cousin Mushki who lives in
Crown Heights, Brooklyn. To my memory, I hadn't met her before moving to New York City four years ago. I saw her a handful of times in my three years in Manhattan and this email was the first contact we've had since I left. (If you hadn't heard, kids are into this thing called the Internets.) Follow our back-and-forth for a minute. Pink, her words; blue, mine. Just like the pegs in Life.

Nope, no stereotypical gender roles in this game.
"Move forward three, clean the dishes."

Here's what she writes:

hi benjamin!!!!! mommy told me that you want pictures of us so this is it!!! some are from monrdechai's wedding and some are of baruch rafael. all of the ones of toby and i are saved on a different comouter!!!!

This just in: one dollar of tzedakah went to a pushke in 770 for every exclamation point used in that email. (I think I grew payes just writing that sentence.)

Hi Mushki! How are you? I'm great. Thanks for writing and for sending these nice pictures. So how old are you now? Israel is great-the winter is very easy here, not like in New York. Chanukah was nice-they sell sufganiot everywhere here.

Pretty straight-forward. Here's where it gets interesting.

I will!!!!!! im 12 still (i turned bat mitzvah in february (i was born in a leap year so techically im still 4)) im going to try to het pictures of me onto this computer so i can send them to you. wanna send me a ticket to israel???? i want to go so badly!!!! if i get to go then i'll visit you!!! i put in several tickets to win a raffle!!! new york is so cold its scary!!!!!!!! i freeze to death with 24 blankets!!!!!!!!!!!!

i dont like sufganiot anyway but they sold it alot of places here. shabbos in israel is really nice isnt it?? you can walk in the streets and there are no cars b/c its shabbos and not alot of people drive. thats so peaceful!!! so lucky!!!!!!!!!!! i miss you!!! everyone sends regards!!!!

There are no cars in Tel Aviv. And I have a bridge in Khan Yunis for sale.

Where IS everybody? Ah, yes-they must be davening Mincha.

Ha ha-I wish I could send you a ticket to Israel. If I could afford that, I would fly home to see my family! Shabbos is nice here but people celebrate it differently everywhere (like in America.) In Jerusalem, everything shuts down. In Tel Aviv, most things shut down except for restaurants so people go there a lot to relax and socialize with friends. You'll have to come see it someday!

Nice little plug at the end. Jewish Agency, you owe me dinner. Ok, so check out the response.

but i thought tel aviv was completely jewish!! how could it be that the restaurants are open??? is it that they are open but dont give food, its just for people to relax????

Good job, self. So now what do I do? I feel like I have to tell my imaginary goyisha child that Santa Claus doesn't exist.

What would you write, my loyal readers? In my last email, I accidentally left the address to this site in the message. I wonder if she's reading this right now. If she discovers something here causing her to leave the Orthodox world, I'm going to be in big trouble.

Update: Here is my response.

Mushki,
The answer is that Israel is as Jewishly diverse as America. You have Jews who are Jewish through their religious practice, Jews who are Jewish through their traditions and connection to culture and community, and Jews who are completely secular and don't feel the need to incorporate Judaism in their lives daily because they feel Jewish just by LIVING in Israel.

When everyone is Jewish, people don't have to try as hard because they're surrounded by Judaism. That may not make sense-you have to see it to get it.

Jerusalem is a very religious city; Tel Aviv is less so, just like the communities in Brooklyn are more Jewishly observant than in Manhattan.

I look forward to you visiting!

What, You Were Expecting Paul Shaffer?

Another reminder to RSS readers...be sure to make this change.

I got the call yesterday. They're renovating the building and it's time to move on. You know what means, my loyal readers...some lucky Tel Avivi could get to live with me! Who knows of a vacancy?

With apologies to David Letterman, from our home office in Bat Yam, here are tonight's top 10 reasons to live with Benji Lovitt:

10) I know how to clean the floor like a local

9) I know how to NOT clean a sink (someone still brings this up every month)

8) I can whip up a delicious breakfast that won't lead to cardiac arrest

7) I've learned that everything's gonna be ok

"They're heeeeeeere!" YIYEH B'SEDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(This one never gets old to me. If I made a shirt with a picture of Olmert or a map of the Middle East with "Yiyeh B'seder" written below, would anybody buy it?)

6) I've mellowed out over the years

5) I can teach Israelis a few things about the New York stock exchange

4) While I may not be able to build furniture, my gever gever friends can

3) I'm over my blepheritis

2) I'll make you laugh

And the number one reason that you're all going to forward me any apartment opening you hear about or take me in...

1) If I don't find an apartment in 44 days, I'm making yerida to here


Somewhere in Jerusalem, an alarm bell just went off. LET'S GO, Nefesh B'Nefesh! HOOK A BROTHA UP!!!

44 days...the clock is ticking...JEWS OF THE WORLD, UNITE!!!!

So Much for this Journalist Winning the Pulitzer Any Time Soon...

Ok, I hate to draw attention away from anything but the disgusting, sad topic of this article, but the author makes it so hard not to.Really? THAT'S the word of choice? Would "go number one" have put this article over the maximum word count? Sorry to make light of this but, please, a little journalistic integrity?

Update (5:18 PM): They changed the wording. How thoughtful.

New to this war zone??? Sign up for updates on the right for more good times. Welcome, readers of Jeneration, a new site backed by the Reform movement in the UK.

No Connection to Hooters, Really

Just a coincidence that I'm posting this the same day, but here is an article I recently wrote for Israel21C, a site that publishes stories about 21st century Israel's contributions to technology, culture, and more. It's about Israeli fashion guru Adi Barkan and his efforts to fight eating disorders in the Israeli modeling world. Interesting stuff.

Update: this story was picked up in the Jerusalem Post. See here. Exciting!

Weekend at Bernie's (if Bernie were a Nazi)

Earlier this week, I spent 3 days in Berlin, meeting my parents who were on vacation from the States. After the requisite "how was it?" question usually came the follow-up "Why'd you go there?" One, because that's where my folks decided to go along with a week in Prague and, two, because I thought "hey, why not confront my people's collective trauma head-on?"

"Germany: Because the Caymans Would be Far Too Relaxing and Mindless"

-Brought to you by the German Ministry of Tourism

I've now visited the European cities of Paris, Prague, and Berlin in the last three years and drew the following conclusion:

Pay attention to this because I'm going to get sarcastic again later
Look (a word that people say when they're about to present a position that may need defending), Berlin's a great city. As new as any place I've seen, a result of having to be rebuilt after a military ass-kicking 60 years ago (that is an actual combat term) plus the Wall coming down less than 20 years ago. Beautiful architecture and incredibly clean. The people were friendly. And the bathrooms...ohhhhhhhhh, the bathrooms! (Hey, Israel! THOSE are toilets worth paying 2 shekels for! Here's an idea...GET TOILET SEATS! I would have eaten a currywurst off the floor of the average German W.C., which is probably disturbing on multiple levels.)

As for..."that other thing": again, it's a great city. I felt conflicted and somewhat guilty for, aleph, enjoying it as much as I did, and bet, not being overwhelmed emotionally by Holocaust reminders. This wasn't a visit to a concentration camp and these people didn't do anything (although their grandparents probably did, (insert uncomfortable laugh)). And by the way, it took me approximately 1.03 seconds for my rarely-working filter to put the kibosh on this post's "Hit-ler?...I hardly..." title. Was that too long?

And now, some pics from my trip:

A train car turned into food stand.
For the love of G-d, can we please get a Jew on their management team?

This is a fancy department store in Berlin's shopping district. If you look around the room, you'll see a variety of nice things I can't afford. (In the foreground, an Aryan stands guard.)

I always loved this movie.

How do you say "Seacrest is a tool" in Deutsch?

How'd you like to have to pencil in all those bubbles on your 8th grade test forms? And why are all German words ßo lÜng?

Remants of the Berlin Wall.
I'm turning this one over to you, my loyal readers. Best caption wins a prize.

"Sie siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind lecker!"

In conclusion, it was a good trip. In Berlin itself, there aren't as many historical reminders as you might expect and those that were there in no way detracted from the enjoyment of the city. Go visit. And bring a few euros for the bathrooms.

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Arnona, Part II

As a follow-up to this, I just figured out how to calculate my share of the arnona bill.

For a 3 person apartment, divide the total (discounted) bill by 21 to arrive at the oleh's share.
For a 4 person apartment, divide by 31...
5 person, 41...and so on...

I'll show my work:
Discounted bill=210 (meaning the original was 300, remember, that's 100+100+10)

210/21=10, my share

There is no way in hell anyone is doing this. So what's the answer?

I Think I'm Going to Name My First-Born Daughter Arnona Just to Ruin Her Teenage Years

Ok, since I got so many answers last time, I'm going to turn this into my own little aliyah forum. (Also because I'm fascinated by my new book "The Wisdom of Crowds" and a group's ability to come up with the right answer.) If high school math class brings back bad memories, you can close this window now.

I just went to the iriya (city council building) to get my arnona (municipality tax) discount which I understand to be 90% (nine-tenths of the whole...sorry.) Since the bi-monthly bill comes for the apartment, not per individual, I wondered how I would get the money back, for example, by the discounted money being deposited in your bank account. (By the way, is no one else bothered that "bi-monthly" apparently means both twice a month and every other month? Really? No one else has a problem with this? Next time my doctor recommends receiving bi-monthly treatment or risk irreparable brain damage, you can be damn sure I'm asking for clarification.) In my broken Hebrew, I tried to get an explanation out of the clerk but I don't believe she knew (even though she answered with complete confidence.) She told me that if the bill comes for 300 shekels, I am responsible for paying only 30 shekels, 10% of the entire bill, leaving each of my other 2 roommates to pay 270, or 135 each. Where did this woman learn math? If 10% of my third is 30 shekels, my third before the discount was 300 shekels, more than twice the current fully-priced thirds of my 2 roommates, 135 each.

Quick, remember algebra?

Anyone? Anyone know what that woman was smoking?

x=How much each of my roommates is supposed to pay
y=How much I'm supposed to pay

x=10y (they pay 10 times what I do)
2x+y=300 (in this example)

Two equations, two unknowns, a quick solve for x means I pay about 14.3 shekels and they each pay 143 shekels. 143+143+14ish=300. The oleh chadash is really supposed to do this kind of math each month? No way anybody is doing this which leads me to believe that people have no clue in reality how much they're supposed to pay (unless there are only 2 total roommates in which case a quick 10% calculation works fine.)

Olim with more than one roommate...am I missing something? Or is everybody else?

I'm baaaaaack! / BREAKING NEWS: Thirty-two Year Old Survives Return to Jewish Summer Camp

"How I Spent My Summer Vacation." Six words which bring back memories of elementary school and long layoffs. Kids returned to school with stories of…umm., what were their stories about? Lemonade stands? Swimming pools? Having gone to summer camp for as long as I can remember, I always wondered what the heck kids did who stayed at home between June and August. Whaddya mean not everyone has heard of ga-ga, the sport which separates the men from the boys? It’s not normal for a group of forty-five kids to stand on tables and sing songs about having the “bagel blues”? And don’t even pretend like all Israeli teenagers aren’t tsofim (scouts), traveling around the world to spread their goodwill through ridiculous cheers and pita-making. Laugh all you want, my loyal readers, but for those of you who had the privilege of attending Jewish summer camp as a kid, you recognize these behaviors to be completely normal. (For all the camp freaks out there, you can laugh and relive your youth here. And to those of you who are staring blankly at your monitor, what the heck did you do from June to September?

Remember this classic movie? (Me neither. I was at camp and never saw it.)

Of course, we all know that although we didn’t realize it at the time (nor did our parents probably), camp was less about the rules of ga-ga and more about the lifelong friends we made and the experiences we had which would tie us to our Jewish identity much more than however many thousands of dollars my parents poured into Hebrew school three days a week. Saying we weren’t motivated for Hebrew school is like saying Michael Vick wasn’t motivated for his plea trial.

Who let the dogs out? WHO! WHO! WHO! (Boy, I really missed writing.)

Summer camp is an environment that simply can’t be found anywhere else where kids learn without realizing it, grow exponentially in a matter of weeks, and become who they are with and because of the people they are surrounded by. It’s not hyperbole to call it one of THE most influential and identity-forming experiences that a Jewish teen can experience and it’s for that reason that in recent years, more and more attention, praise, and money are coming the way of Jewish camps. (Foundation of Jewish Camping, you can make my check out to…)

For various reasons which I won’t mention here (such as a desire to pass on my love for this crazy country), after a short fourteen year break, I decided in the spring to return to Young Judaea’s high school camp, Camp Tel Yehudah. Throughout my summer and after its conclusion, I was inevitably asked the following question by roughly 8.3 bajillion of my closest friends, all of whom attended camp along with me back in the day: “well, how was it?” The answer was usually some combination of “good”, “it feels more like a job at this age”, and “while I often felt like a 90 year-old, camp doesn’t change.” Sure, they can’t live without Facebook. And, fine, maybe they’ve never heard of Wham! (although this statement may say more about me than them)…but camp is still camp and the magic always remains, no matter how old you are.

To answer those of you who have asked “when are you going to start writing again already?” questions and finally address my anxiety of trying to summarize the last 3 months in less than 10,000 words, I’m going to end the summer wrap-up there. Yes, there were the hilarious “how to be a gever gever” lessons I received from my manly Israeli staff members…and the quite useful Hebrew slang brought to my attention about “returning to deh Blohk-bahs-tehr deh movie you ahr lee-veeng een”…but I’m back in Israel for another year, and looking forward to more cultural differences, distasteful English t-shirts, and of course…EHHHHHHHHH…….

So welcome back, my loyal readers…forward this blog to your friends who possess a sense of humor and love of Israel, and let’s get it started.

Just a few pics from the summer...

Giving an inspirational Shabbat talk to my 47ish 11th graders. Clearly, they’d rather be on Facebook.

Remember raids? "Hey, where’d the bed go?"

Once upon a time, in 1991 (as evidenced above), I was “Ben.” The animal growing on my face was last seen in Texas crossing a highway.

An Israeli couple dressed up for the themed end-of-summer banquet. For some reason, I remember the hippies spreading a different message. (If you can't read it, the signs say "Make aliyah, not war." The Jewish Agency is loving this.)

The aforementioned gever gevers. Well, three of them anyway.

Only at camp can a 32 year old befriend 18 year-old women without law enforcement intervening.

Yom Hazikaron: Spot the American

Q: How do you spot the American on Yom Hazikaron?

A: He's the one showing up to the office on time (if at all), not wearing a white shirt. Today I'm the American.

Last night began Yom Hazikaron, the day to remember the fallen soldiers who lost their lives defending Israel. In my first post ever from Israel, written as the war was ending, I wrote that because I hadn't been personally touched by loss, unlike every single person in this country, I wasn't able to appreciate what they were going through. I felt the same way last night as I joined thousands of people gathered at Kikar Rabin to commemmorate the fallen soldiers.

My boss Michal told me that this would be an especially emotional day this year after what happened last summer. If starting a public ceremony EARLY in Israel is any indication, she was right. This was not just any Yom Hazikaron. When I attended a demonstration for the MIAs in September, it started an hour late. Not only did the ceremony begin five minutes before the 9:00 PM start time, all of the MANY hundreds of chairs had been claimed and the security had already closed the entrances to the square, leaving who knows how many thousands of people congregating outside the barricades.

The streets going home at the end of the night. Not a car in sight.

For the next hour and a half, Israeli journalist and TV personality Yair Lapid introduced war song after war song, solemnly performed by well-known Israeli singers such as Harel Scott and Sarid Chadad. You didn't have to understand a word to appreciate what was going on. The closer to the center of the event you got, the less talking you heard. To be accurate, there was talking, noise, and the occasional cell phone conversation in the surrounding areas of the square, and pretty much not a peep from where we stood and in front of us. If an alien was to come to planet Earth and try to explain to an outsider only what he saw (not judging what people were feeling or the magnitude of the cause)...the best comparison I can think of would be the post-9/11 tribute concert in New York. Or maybe a comparison isn't fair to either. I don't know WHAT else resembles this public song session.

As the singers performed and people around me joined them in song, I looked around and watched some of the audience members' eyes LOCKED IN on the stage. As they joined the performers in song, I realized that, as powerful as the moment was, I was appreciating it from the perspective of an outsider. Israelis would probably tell me I'm lucky to not be able to appreciate what it means to mourn a lost family member, friend, or even distant acquaintance...and they're right...but I probably represent all immigrants who yearn for the day when they too can understand what their fellow citizens are going through on a day like this.

This morning, at 11:00, the siren wailed across the country as everyone stopped in their tracks for a moment of silence. Here is an incredible video from Lisa of On the Face. This is Rothschild Boulevard, my favorite street in Tel Aviv, a place never lacking for pedestrians, baby carriages, dogs, and at this kiosk, socialite coffee drinkers. Watch.

Yom hazikaron
Uploaded by Lisang

If you haven't been in Israel on this day, I hope you have the chance to do it at some point in your lives. There is nothing else like it. Let us all remember those who fell defending Israel and pray that their families and loved ones heal as best as possible.

Shut Your Iranian Piehole

Are you kidding me? This just in from the Jerusalem Post:

Iran on Tuesday condemned a gunman's rampage the previous day at Virginia Tech university which left 33 people dead and was the deadliest shooting rampage in modern US history.

"While condemning this [attack], [Iran] expresses condolences with the nation and the families of those killed," Foreign Ministry spokesman Mohammad Ali Hosseini said in a statement, a copy of which was made available to The Associated Press.

"Attacking innocent people, irrespective of their race and nationality, is contrary to divine and human values no matter which group or person carries out such an act under any name," the Iranian statement said.

In a related story, my butt has condemned my Johnson for being wasteful. I will now return to not paying attention to this story.

Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman Mohammad Ali Hosseini,
known to his close friends as Abu Schmuckface

Virginia Tech Tragedy: Israeli Professor Killed

In an effort to negate the ridiculous "Israel is a war zone, it's not safe to visit" mularkey, I recently poked holes with links to recent events of random violence in America. It's easy to emotionally detach and make fun when you're a citizen of a mammoth country of 300 million people with so little national unity; the victims are just more nameless people in an endless and routine news cycle.

There is nothing funny or routine about what happened yesterday at Virginia Tech.

On the day that Israel commemmorated Yom Hashoah, America gathered around the televisions to mourn the loss of innocent university students. When I saw the headline, all I could say was "Oh my G-d...oh my G-d." One of the victims was Israeli professor Liviu Librescu, a senior researcher and lecturer of engineering. Professor Librescu apparently held his classroom door shut in an effort to keep out the gunman, before being shot.

Professor Liviu Librescu, killed yesterday at Virginia Tech

It's too early to take any lessons or be critical; all I can say is that tragedies like this make my heart hurt for America. While Israel has had periods of horrible loss of life in the mid-90s and early 2000's, we are immune to random acts of violence like this one, a shooting not done out of religous fanatacism or politics, but out of...what? Personal angst, like Columbine? The answers will come soon probably. Sadly, like suicide bombings in Israel, the shock from public shootings--SCHOOL SHOOTINGS even--in America has disappeared as the once-unthinkable has become not-, with these scenes repeating themselves again and again on television. At some point sadly, America will move on as CNN replaces this story with the next. For today at least, let's remember and mourn the 33 victims in Blacksburg.

Why Must You Pull at My Heartstrings, Oh Jewish Maxim Girl???

We're approaching the 11th hour with no phone call yet. Perhaps she spilled something on my business card, much like Kramer did to Uma Thurman's number. (Of course, there is something inherently flawed with any analogy involving Kramer and Uma Thurman which has me playing the role of Uma.)

In any event, as the day moves closer to sundown and Pesach approaches, I want to wish you all a chag Pesach sameach wherever you are. May we all enjoy a year of freedom and pray for liberation for those still enslaved.

More later...

And there it was...

The siren just went off. That was most certainly weird. If it happened in the States, everyone would run out of their house and look for UFOs in the sky. I did in fact run out of the office just to see what people were doing but nobody seemed to react but me.

The only thing I can compare it to was one of those old THX "The Audience is Listening" sound effects.

Belated Purim Wrap-Up: WOW.

So Purim has come and gone in this Jewish state of ours...if you haven't done so, be sure to check out a few pictures here. Although I did spend 9 months here back in '92-'93, I barely remember a lot of the experiences, another sign that I ain't a kid anymore. (Other signs include my pants sitting on my waist, as opposed to six inches below my ass, and my willingness to communicate with human beings through spoken word, rather than Instant Messaging.)

"OMG!!! C U L8R!!!" -Average teen

I feel like I'm experiencing a lot of Israel for the first time again, namely the holidays. Hanukkah, while not a major holiday religiously, was incredible to witness here, with sufganiot everywhere and public hadlakat nerots (candle lightings) on the street and in restaurants. I wasn't sure what to expect from Purim but one thing became certain: this was not Halloween.

There's a silly tendency for Americans to compare the two holidays because of, well, the costumes. After growing out of Halloween in my teenage years, I grew back into it in college when it became a reason to go out among a mass of audaciously dressed university students. Halloween was something we prepared for, trying to one-up each other to think of the best costume, or at the least, wear something entertaining, attention-grabbing, and original. It's a damn shame my pictures are boxed up at my parents' house or I'd post some of my personal faves from over the years: Kerri Strug, Hooters girl, and Dennis Rodman (in uniform, not wedding dress). My friend Philip who I spent many a costumes holiday with could always be counted to come up with some original ones as well including "X-rated crossword puzzle".

Remember them?

I spent a long time planning my Purim costume and looking forward to the holiday, only to have the news broken to me by my Israeli friends that "it's more for the kids." In the days leading up to the weekend, I saw a ton of kids (and REALLY cute ones at that) dressed up as your standard kid personalities: dog, princess, Spiderman. And although there were certainly a lot of adults in costume last weekend, it just wasn't to the extent that I expected, especially coming from New York where Halloween is a complete scene. Not only were there a large number of people not in costume, but it appeared that every street block could have been taken straight out of 1955. Pirate, cop, cat...over and over again. Nothing timely or thought-out; no Dr. Evil, no Borat, no Marv Albert with a garter belt and women's panties. I was so proud of my costume until I became self-conscious for not being a cat. I also was a little disappointed at barely seeing oznei Haman ("Haman's ears" or Hamentaschen in the Diaspora) anywhere as opposed to the omnipresence of sufganiot during Hanukkah. At no point did anyone I knew stop to buy one so I made a concerted effort to buy a couple which were just ok.

Fast forward to Sunday. I woke up at 6 AM to make my way down to Holon, the city where "my kids" live, for the "adloyada," the biggest Purim parade in Israel. After the first few days of Purim festivities, I tried to temper my American super-sized expectations to deal with whatever "biggest" meant. The Salute to Israel parade in NYC is mammoth with who-knows-how many thousands of marchers and spectators and I figured this tiny country's effort would pale in comparison.

Boy, was I wrong.

It was unbelievable. There were floats, loud music, kids with silly string (there was at least one, who decided to attack me with it...what can you do but smile?), and all kinds of parade-like visuals including this inflatable centipede carried by my group.