Kikar Rabin: "Lights...Camera....Ehhhhhhhhhhhh"

Tonight was Earth Hour here in Tel Aviv, an hour to turn off lights to make a statement about global warming and the environment (hopefully this statement was that it's not good). Thousands came to Kikar Rabin for a concert, sponsored by the city, where the band Knisiat Hasechel performed. At 8 PM, the lights went out in the iriya (municipality building) and apparently in certain businesses around the city who agreed to participate. The lighting for the band was powered by a group of spinners on an adjacent stage (When I was a kid, these were called stationery bikes. When the hell did "spinning" come along? What is this? Do Israelis call it "speeneeng"?)

I love the site of people in attendance to support the environment...smoking cigarettes. I wonder if they'll pass out plastic flyers with information about global warming as well.

Here's a short look. If you don't recognize the female journalist, that's Bar Rafaeli. She likes when I call her "Amalia". That and "Sugar Falafel".

Earth Hour for the rest of the world happens in two days. Who says Jews are late?

No Need to Divide Jerusalem, There's Enough to Go Around

Before a recent trip to the nation's capital, I was surprised to learn from weather.com that Jerusalem was at the time 34 degrees but felt like 20. (I always wondered why they had to report both the actual temperature and the wind chill. "Today in Swampscott, it's 84 degrees and sunny but it feels like fourteen Kelvin." I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT TO WEAR!!!! Will it be Jams or a turtleneck? Stop with all the numbers. (Ain't no way I'm not shooting to top of all the Jams Google searches after this. Ahh...brings me back to 5th grade. And who knows how to say "turtleneck" in Hebrew? Ten points for the first right answer.)

Once upon a time, everybody wore these. Really. No, seriously!

Aha-upon further investigation, I realized that I had accidentally selected "Jerusalem, Arkansas." Huh...that's interesting. Definitely not on my list of topdesired destinations any time soon. So just what is Jerusalem, Arkansas? How many Chassidim do they have there? What's on their Ben-Yehudah Street?

I thought I'd do a Super Bowl-style breakdown to see which place ranks supreme. Jerusalem, Arkansas (J-Ark) vs Jerusalem, Israel (JI). Let's do it.

NEWS
Surprisingly, a search of Google News revealed not even a single story for J-Ark. Slow day, I guess. In the Holy Land, in a landmark battle of the Israeli Football League, the Big Blue Jerusalem team trounced Mike's Place Tel Aviv, 48-6. You had to believe it to see it...in the final two minutes, Big Blue pulled off the rarely seen "triple schnitzel reverse" play, worth a whopping 43 points by Israeli rules, handing MP a painful defeat.
Advantage: JI

PEOPLE:
In an effort to meet a nice apartment-mate, I tried to register for J-Ark on roommates.com. After filling out the required fields, I was greeted with this message.

Internet fraud??? Who am I, David from "War Games"??? Contact customer support? No, thank you.

On the other hand, here is a recent email from my friend Lizzi in JI.

you know, even if i'm not around, which i won't be until later in the evening, feel free to hit ____# and come up (dial slowly) and put the key inside. blessings lizzi

That's hospitality, folks. I needed a place to stay and this local resident stepped up. (By the way, Lizzi, when you were away, I tried on all your clothes. Just kidding...OR AM I??????)
Advantage: JI, with some scared readers

DINING OUT: Hmm...where to eat in J-Ark? A search of restaurants revealed not even one on the unrivaled culinary source...umm...Big Daddy Data. And who is that character at the top of the screen, Barney's albino cousin? Put some clothes on and start reviewing restaurants, buddy.

JI? Here's a quick sample of local cuisine including the popular Tmol Shilshom cafe. I had some delicious salmon ravioli there once. And the sachlab...OOOOOH, THE SACHLAB!!!!!!
Advantage: JI

MOBILE HOME COMMUNITIES
What, you were hoping for a shutout?
Advantage: J-Ark

Take THAT, Israel.

FAMOUS FORMER RESIDENT
J-Ark? Yikes. Let's give a little help. About 175 miles down the road is the city of Hope. My American friends know who hails from there. A good friend of Israel, former President Bill Clinton. Whatever your politics, smart guy...compassionate. JI? Move over, Bill...check out your competition. Yep, she was born in the Holy City. Furthermore, she went to Hebrew U, helped Alan Dershowitz write "The Case for Israel", and has reportedly said that although she "really love[s] the States... my heart's in Jerusalem. That's where I feel at home". Take that and stick it somewhere, Talentless Biotch Formerly Known as Bar.
Advantage: JI

So there you have it, my loyal readers: Israel wins by a margin of 4-1. For those of you who were considering a move, consider yourself more informed. And next time you're checking the weather online, make sure to be pay attention. Especially if you're traveling here.

You're telling me, after that post, that you don't want to get updates delivered to your inbox? Not buying it for a second. Go sign up on the right. Do it.

Tuesday Israeli Hottie #1

Ah, what the heck? Inspired by this post, why not kick off the Tuesday Israeli Hottie series with this story?

Remember that Sizzlean commercial from the 80s? "Move over, bacon! There's something meatier!" (Sorry, Israelis, you had two channels.)

Well, there's someone new in town, my loyal readers, and you may be seeing more of her in the future. Goodbye, talentless biotch formerly known as Bar...hello, Moran Atias. (Ok, so she's not graced with the best name for success in America, but what can you do? It's acceptable here and right up there on the list of "Worst Names for an Israeli in America" with Osnat and Dudu. That's the equivalent of someone naming their daughter Shilshula and making aliyah.) According to this story, Moran is the one of the six finalists to be the next Bond girl and the last remaining Israeli. Hey, very exciting.

This poor woman can't even afford a new shirt. Give her the job, people!

From the writers who brought you Pussy Galore...Tseetseem Goldshtein! Through an internet leak, I've actually managed to liberate a script from a recent casting call with Moran and Daniel Craig...here it is:

Girl: "Oh, Meester Bond! You ahr so handsome...and so dan-gehr-ous!"
Bond: "Well, Tseetseem, you have to be in this job."
Girl: "Oh, Meester Bond! I want to lahv you!"
Bond: "Well, why don't we go back to your place and I can show you some more of my cool gadgets?"
Girl: "B'seder! I should tell you though that I leev at home and my brah-ther is home from deh army..."

Whatever happens with this role, Moran is already lined up to star in an upcoming Judd Apatow flick (the guy who brought us "Knocked Up", "Superbad", "The 40 Year-Old Virgin," and more. And you're not going to believe the plot.)

Judd Apatow, hottest guy in Hollywood these days.
No sarcastic caption needed.

As for that other Israeli model: it seems that she and Leo have gone their separate ways. (For a second there, I thought about linking to a certain Journey video.) Nice career move, woman.

4:04 PM "Yisrael sucks!"
4:05 PM Gets dumped on her ass
4:06 PM Frantically calls publicist, realizing that her life has peaked at 21

In other news, she still hasn't called yet. When she realizes that I control her career through Google, oh believe me...she'll call.

Thanks to Dave and Shara for the lead.

Come back next Tuesday for more Israeli hotties! You never know, ladies, it could be a guy.

To get updates delivered to your inbox, sign up on the right. Do it now.

"This is the Sound that Israelis Make When Trying to Get a Thought Out..."

Games are fun, my loyal readers. Rare is the occasion in adult life that we get to play them but when we do, it's always a fun time. As childhood turned into college, Chutes and Ladders and Monopoly gave way to good fun like Scattergories and Pictionary. My friend Sarit used to have people over for Shabbat dinner at the University of Texas and the evening often ended with us our trying to outbluff each other, courtesy of Balderdash.

"You seriously don't know what 'usufruct' means? Everybody knows it's the liquid that accumulates at the bottom of the wax paper after you eat a falafel."

So when I recently found myself at a dinner where the host whipped out Taboo, I was more than happy to play.

For those of you who don't know, Taboo is a game where you have to get your teammates to guess a word which you describe without being able to use other related words. For example, I'd have to get you to guess the words "Bar Refaeli" without using "Leo", "model", or "spoiled brat with no brain." Good times for all.

Can you describe this Israeli ad without using the words "tacky", "risque", and
"Jesus, who authorized this???"

Now, you may not have realized that Taboo in Israel is slightly different from the game which you might have played in the Diaspora. For example, in our game, someone drew the word "Europe." What words would you think might be taboo? Gee...I don't know... culture? Queen? Empire? Uh uh…how about “Shoah?” Somebody’s holding a grudge!

Really??? THAT'S one of the critical words without which we shouldn't be able to describe a major continent???

"Ok, this is a continent in the northern hemisphere.”
"North America?"
"No! It has many countries which speak various languages."
"Asia?"
"NO! Arrgh...it includes England! France! Spain! Poland!"
"I have no idea."
(BUUUUUUUUUUZZZZ!!!!!!)

"Dammit! If only I could have said Shoah! "
(pause)

"Oooooooh, Europe!"

Welcome to Israel.

I also find that this game impairs your ability to speak normally for 10 minutes immediately after completion. After I play, I’m stuck saying things like, “I’m really tired now…I need to go to…?” Sleep? YES!

On an unrelated but still funny note, you should play this game with Israelis if you want to set a world record for the most “Ehhhs” in a sixty-second period. I'm fairly certain someone in our game managed at least 28 billion. Hilarous.

Ok, this is what you're going to do to tell me what you think of this post...

Now That's Chutzpah!

From a recent JTA report:

A wealthy Israeli businessman is offering a cash prize for initiatives that instill manners in his native land.

Ronny Maman, who recently returned to Israel after 18 prosperous years in San Diego, announced this week that he will give $60,000 to anyone who comes up with a way to make the Jewish state more considerate.

"We should all be helping each other," Maman, 55, told Yediot Achronot, deploring what he described as the spread of chutzpah in Israel in recent years.

Maman invited contestants to send their proposals to his Web site, www.derech-eretz.org. The winner will be selected next year, and Maman said he may also publish a book with the best 100 ideas.

"The intention is to create awareness, which in turn will create action, and then everything will change," he said.

The "spread of chutzpah?" What is this, a communicable disease? Someone call the CDC! I actually see chutzpah more as like a family value.

Another casualty from a recent outbreak.
Handle with caution, men.

As for the prize...$60,000, huh? Nothing to sneeze at. Except that when I checked out his website linked above, the ad on the homepage screams out "250,000 ש''ח". A quick currency conversion shows that as of today, with an exchange rate of 4.035, he should be paying in dollars $61,962. So basically if an American wins this, he's going to pocket almost $2000???

Now THAT'S chutzpah!

Other examples of chutzpah:
Chutzpah in Lines!
Chutzpah in the Bathroom!
Chutzpah from the Talentless Biotch Formerly Known as Bar!

What else about this report exudes chutzpah, my loyal readers? The potential jokes are endless.

The Talentless Biotch Formerly Known as Bar

Break-ups are hell, people. We've all had them. Sometimes we're fortunate to move on and remain friends with our exes and sometimes the pain is too great and we must go our separate ways. Either way, it's not easy. Imagine my feelings yesterday when I read the quotes from my ex-girlfriend, Bar Refaeli, criticizing Israel.

(AP) In comments published Tuesday, Refaeli had few kind words for her native country, saying she has no regrets about dodging mandatory military service and announcing she is moving to Los Angeles.

"I don't regret not having been drafted into the army, because I made out big," Refaeli, 22, told the Yediot Ahronot daily. "Why is it good to die for one's country," she asked rhetorically. "Isn't it better to live in New York?"

"I won't bring anyone famous to Israel because there is a chutzpah here that you won't see anywhere else," Refaeli said.

You don't see it anywhere else, do you? Maybe you'd be able to see a little better if you'd remove your head from Leo's butt. It would have been one thing for her to drag our dirty laundry into the public eye, but to bash your own country? We don't need that, Bar. For that reason, I am swearing you off forever and changing this blog's topic category from Bar Refaeli to "The Talentless Biotch Formerly Known as Bar."

One of the many pictures of us which I'll be deleting forever.
(No, I didn't Photoshop it. My camera sucks, ok?)

Good riddance, and seriously, please stop friending me on Facebook. It's beyond pathetic.

The JIBs are Open!

On a much less important note (see last post), today also begins voting for the Jewish and Israeli Blog awards (JIBs). I'm nominated for Best New Blog http://www.jibawards.com/index.php?option=com_wrapper&Itemid=110 and Best Humor Blog http://www.jibawards.com/index.php?option=com_wrapper&Itemid=130.

I've discovered a lot of great sites this past year, some of which provide as well-written and thought-provoking analysis as the newspapers, and others which are just wonderfully entertaining. Some of them are linked on this site to the right.

If you've enjoyed reading about Ulpan (Hebrew classes), cultural differences, and...of course...Bar, feel free to vote for this here site. Thank you, my loyal readers.

Bar...just because.

Where am I??? (Funny Google Glitch)

Last night, en route to my friend Martin's house in Herzliya, I feared for a minute that we might have gotten lost. Fortunately, Martin (who grew up in Texas like me) gave us outstanding directions, as clear and accurate as any I've gotten since I've been here.

From an old entry...

Israelis seem to give directions in a very specific manner which must include the following five things:

1) They first look off in the general direction of the destination, deep in thought, despite the fact that they probably live in this neighborhood and should have no problem telling you where you’re going.

2) They say the word “yashar” (straight) no less than 457 times while doing the “keep going” motion with their arm, before ending it with “ad ha sof” (until the end).

3) They do not give you a single street name.

4) They do not tell you how to get where you need to go, causing you to ask someone else one block later.

5) Repeat steps 1-4.

If the directions don’t include these five things, you’ve just spoken with a foreigner.

I wish there existed a reliable site comparable to Google or Yahoo maps for directions but I don't think they compare (and they don't like my Mac either.)

Now...for the Google glitch, try this:
1) Go to Google.com
2) Click on 'Maps,' then 'Get directions' just under the search bar.
3) Type in 'New York, NY' as your starting point and 'Paris, France' as your destination. Once it computes your directions, scroll down to No. 23.

Bar Rafaeli getting ready to travel.

I think I'll just fly, thank you.

My Day with Maxim (Part II)

Part I here...

When we last left Benji, he was in the Azrieli train station, jaw hanging roughly 2 centimeters from the floor, hanging out at Nivit Bash’s photo shoot. I’ll be honest with you guys, I had more important things to do than to hang out ogling a bikini-clad Jewess, but when journalism calls, so be it. (And if you believe that, I have a beautiful time-share in Gaza to sell you.)

The previous owner of my summer home in Khan Yunis.

After about 30 minutes of shooting pictures, the crew prepared to pack up and head to the next site. When my new idol, err, Israel21c Editorial Director David Brinn invited me to come along, it was an easy decision. I settled myself at the back of the van, doing my best to find the oh-so-important balance between the following: on one hand, being friendly enough to convince the crew to let me stick around…and on the other, to not annoy the crap out of them, causing the proverbial “don’t pinch me” moment and pre-mature end to this dreamy morning. Seeing that most of the crew currently lives in New York, my previous place of residence, that was a natural topic of conversation.

24 hours later…and I still don’t have this job.

The van stopped next to a gas station of all places, just across the Ayalon Highway next to the Azrieli towers. The crew chose to shoot her just in front of a big steel barrier right next to the street. (”And the sexist car-honkings and gawking will commence in three…two…one…”) You’ve all heard that famous statistic? About more Israelis being killed on the roads than in all the wars combined? It’s obvious why. FEMALE PEDESTRIANS. I’m curious: which country has the ugliest women in the world? You show me this country, I’ll show you safe roads and bored insurance companies. Within a few minutes, the arsim were appearing out of thin air, snapping pictures and acting offended when the crew told them “no pictures allowed.”

Some random thoughts that crossed my mind…

• What exactly qualifies someone to be an Israeli model? My grandmother could throw a rock on Rothschild Avenue and hit the next Bar Rafaeli. (And her fastball has lost a little juice over the years.) There are hot chicks EVERYWHERE. “Hey, look at that hottie! She must be the Max…Oh wait…she works the register at Burger Ranch.”
  
  
• I spent the downtime exchanging small talk with the friendly Maxim crew, one of which had worked photo shoots previously with several high-profile athletes like Dirk Nowitzki and LeBron James. “LeBron’s an ***hole. He has four babies from four mamas.” See, there’s the inside scoop you just don’t get from Haaretz. (Editor’s note: This is not true according to the internet, which of course is never wrong. I’ll believe it in this case.)
  
  
• The photographer constantly gave Nivit direction like “Put the weight on that leg…yeah, that’s better.” Boy, some people sure are picky.
  
  
• Why in G-d’s name does AIPAC insist on giving American Congressmen tours of places like the Kotel? Two words: THE BEACH!

Miss Tishrei, 5765

(She looks different without her makeup, doesn’t she?)

Some time later, work was beginning to call (my real work) and I could see the window of opportunity beginning to close. I hadn’t had more than a brief exchange with Nivit yet and time was running out. When the shoot was finished, I approached her to begin the interview.

Benji: “Why are Israelis so beautiful?”
Nivit: “Kibbutz Galuyot (a term meaning “ingathering of the exiles”…the gene mixing answer again.) The sun…the water…”
Benji: “What’s better: sex or chumus?” (This was inspired by the “boxers or briefs” question to then-Presidential candidate Bill Clinton, more to elicit a reaction than anything else.)
Nivit: “Oh my G-d! Because I’m a model, I can’t eat chumus. I’ll go with sex. But chumus is good as well.” (Not two seconds later, having heard nothing, one of the crew asked her, “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat chumus?”)
Benji: “Do you have a message for America?”
Nivit: “We have a great country. Come and visit!”

And the capper:
Benji: “Do you want to come to my Seder?”

I don’t much remember how the following events happened but somewhere between this question and my leaving, she invited me to her parents’ house for Seder. Let me write that again: THE JEWISH MAXIM MODEL INVITED ME TO HER PASSOVER SEDER!!!

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”
Umm…I’ll give you one guess.

Hey, it’s no secret Israelis are the most hospitable people on the planet. Why should this one be any different? I gave her my card and told her she better not be kidding. Free dinner…kosher for Passover (eye) candy…four cups of wine??? I LOVE THIS HOLIDAY!!!
Regardless of how many people buy this special magazine issue, I can confidently say, mission accomplished: I’m convinced. This is the greatest country in the world. And if she doesn’t call? I’ll see you at the newsstand.

My Day with Maxim (Part I)

The classic guitar players will all tell you that they first picked up a guitar to meet girls. I can’t remember the first time I picked up a pen to write (and whether or not anyone would consider me a classic anything is up for debate) but I surely didn’t do so with the expectation of meeting any girls from it. I suppose any girls I’ve met from my time on Jdate are a result of my finely-crafted essays (or was it the gratuitous pic holding a baby?) but nothing in comparison to the incredibly hilarious and surreal experience I enjoyed yesterday morning as a lucky blogger.

If you hadn’t heard, several employees of Maxim Magazine headed to Israel this week for a photo shoot of Israeli models, all in the name of a new kind of Israeli hasbara (talking points: OUT; curvy women: IN! IN! IN!) Sponsored by Israel21C and Israel’s Foreign Ministry, this yet-to-be released issue threatens to either to generate no more waves than the average issue of Maxim, or cause the Jewish Agency and Nefesh B’Nefesh to dance in the streets due to the biggest aliyah since Russia opened its doors in the early 90s. I can just imagine this conversation:

Israeli Government Official: “Prime Minister, deh demo-grah-feex proh-blem eez no lohn-ger! Meel-yons of American Jews ahr choo-seeng to leev their lives een Israel!”

PM: “To waht do you aht-tree-bute dees? Anti-Semitism in deh Diaspora? Spirituality?”

IGO: “Ehhhhhhhhhh…..thong-eem???”

Be careful of Israeli women.
So sexy…yet so dangerous.

Between this and Hooters, it’s a good time to be an Israeli male. So when Israel21c Editorial Director David Brinn left me a message yesterday saying “Benji, I’m going to see the models, you might want to come too”…well, let’s just say I was excited. To put it into perspective, on the scale of “things that make your heart stop”, it ranked somewhere between “You just won the lottery!” and “Benji? It’s Aaron Spelling from the set of Melrose Place. We like your work and would love you to play the new romantic lead to Heather Locklear.”

When I arrived at the Hashalom train station to meet David and the staff, the possible scenarios were already running through my head: “Hey, baby…what’s your name? Come here often? Wanna play ‘Spin the Mezuzah’?” I met David and shmoozed for a minute until he pointed behind me and gestured “look!” A bikini-clad model stood on top of the ticket turnstiles, legs spread open. Suddenly, I felt an unexplainable urge to travel cross-country.

Next stop: my heart

Her name was Nivit Bash and for the next 30 minutes, I watched a photographer snap pictures, a light guy do something with light, a make-up girl do something with make-up, and so on. They were all very friendly and eager to visit Israel, almost all of whom were here for the first time. To my slight surprise, none of them expressed any hesitations or concerns despite Israel’s image in the media. I asked them what their biggest surprise was, what they enjoyed so far, what they thought of the nightlife, and of course, why Israelis are so hot. The answers included:

• “I follow the news but it didn’t keep me from coming. I’ve heard so much about this country and really wanted to visit. I’m blown away by it; I’m not afraid at all.”
• “It feels very Mediterranean but also Eastern, a real mix of cultures. And I’m looking forward to the game tonight!”
• As for the beauty…”They’re a mixture of cultures who are all so unique and different. People have arrived from 90 countries: Ethiopia, Russia, Europe, South America, North America…” That’s the standard explanation. Here was another: “They’re not as hung up as American girls. Their personality affects their beauty.” (Hey, I’m just the messenger.)

Here’s a shot of Nivit doing…WHO CARES??????????

Fortunately, I had some time to compose myself before meeting the model. Otherwise, this conversation might have happened.

Model: “My name eez Nivit Bash. What is yours?”

Benji: “Buh-dah-buh-goo-goo!”

This woman gets paid to rub cream on her stomach.
I really need a new job.
C’mon, Nefesh B’Nefesh career placement…hook a brotha up!

More pictures and details to come tomorrow including a surprise which, if realized, should leave tongues hanging across the Jewish world (or will at least impress of all my friends). Check back for Part II.

(Part II here.)

If you came to see some Israeli skin, surely you'll also want to see some Bar Rafaeli pics or read about the upcoming opening of Hooters in Israel.

"Thirty-seven! Eighteen! Falafel ball! HIKE!"

By now, you may have heard that Israel will be launching a professional baseball league this summer. But a FOOTBALL ASSOCIATION??? Bob Kraft, the owner of the New England Patriots (and active Jewish community leader), and former NFL commissioner Paul Tagliabue were recently in Israel to help announce this exciting development.

Could American football really catch fire in Israel, my loyal readers? The game of soccer, despite its popularity among youth, can't see to take hold in the States, even after our successful World Cup showing in 2002 and the bajillions of dollars invested in its professional leagues over the years. Most Israelis I know who have watched football say "Waht eez deh point? They heet each ah-der and then stend around for tehr-tee seh-cahnds!......

Mah zeh 'first and ten'?"

Could Bar Rafaeli be Israel's first cheerleader?
"DEAD SEA! RED SEA! HAIFA! MASADA!
CAN OUR OFFENSE GET ANY HOTTER?
GOOOOOOOOOOO...LAN HEIGHTS!"

Some burning questions about this new league...

"If you build it, they will come," said American Football in Israel president Steve Leibowitz as he announced the new Israel Football League to dozens of players and guests.

Yes, but will they wait in lines?

Dori Reichmann, a San Diego Chargers fan from Rehovot, has been playing tackle football in Israel since 1994, when he played in pickup games without any pads or helmets. Next year, he'll be playing for the Tel Aviv Pioneers in the new Israel Football League. "We've been waiting for this for 10 years," he said. While the IFL has been a three-team tackle football league without helmets and pads, the new fully-equipped IFL plans to kick off this fall with at least four teams located in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Haifa and Kfar Saba.

The Tel Aviv Pioneers? What were the other finalists for the team name? The Tel Aviv Chain Smokers? The Shnitzel Friers?

"Peyton Manning! You just won the Super Bowl! Where are you going?"
"I'M GOING TO LUNA GAL!!!"

As a major sports fan, this is truly exciting. It looks like Israel is about to learn about a new kind of "Friday night lights."

Coht-ehn cendy, anyone?

Chumus Bar Rafaeli Chumus Chumus Chumbar Rafummus

If you're one of my loyal readers, you've taken note of my pleasure in referencing Bar Rafaeli, not so much because she's, well...BAR RAFAELI...but because I'm amused by the many Google searchers who come my way as a result of their queries. I haven't the foggiest idea of how Google's fabled algorhytm works (aside from the oft-mentioned assertions that it factors in how many other sites reference you and, of course, the content.)

Well...imagine my amusement when I discovered that yours truly is the fifth result on the entire internet when searching for "chumus". How in Sabra did that happen? Sadly enough, I'm down from THREE earlier this week. See for yourselves...

Did this conversation happen in Silicon Valley this week?

We may never know.

Larry Page: "Sergey! Sergey! What the hell is this crap?"

Sergey Brin: "How did THAT guy get so high?"

LP: "I don't know, but we need some new software developers. CLEAN HOUSE, DAMMIT! LARRY IS GETTING ANGRY!!!!!!!!"

SB: (under his breath) "I hate it when he gets this way."

OK, GOOGLE! IT'S ON, BABY! PUT ME AT THE TOP!!!!!!!!!!



CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS
CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS
CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS HUMMUS CHUMUS

C'mon, Google guys...I don't ask for much.

And with this in the news...just for good measure...

Bar Rafaeli Chumus Rafaummus Chumbar Hummaeli.


If I'm number one in any of these categories by the weekend, I'm quitting my job and entering the chickpea industry.

Chickpea chickpea chickpea!

Seesaw swingin' with the boys in the school and your feet flyin' up in the....eeeehhhhh........

When things like this come across my proverbial desk, why do I feel like someone is playing a practical joke on me? After excluding true "fanatics" who travel the country following their favorite band, memorizing everything about each member, and having Steven Tyler's middle name tattooed on their tuchus, I am the biggest Aerosmith fan I know. To anyone my age or younger who wants to remind me that they've sold out and produced crap for the last 10 years or so...yeah, fine. But listen to "Toys in the Attic" or anything from the 70's to hear why they were called America's greatest rock and roll band. You can even stretch that to the "Pump" and Alicia Silverstone years if you want although I won't twist your mezuzah.

(It's not like people were throwing this "greatest" label on the Backstreet Boys in the 90's only to wake up years later and realize, "What were we THINKING??? They SUCK!" Aerosmith's talent back then was undeniable. Why am I getting so defensive about this? Like I'm one to argue music with anyone. I have Rick Astley and Hanson on my iPod for G-d's sakes.)

My musical tastes or just a Halloween costume???
We may never know the truth...

Aside from this short reference at the end, I haven't mentioned my affinity for them in this here blog although my friend Philip tells me I should start branching off and talking about some other odds and ends to make things interesting for you, my loyal readers.

In any event, imagine my surprise when I came across the new Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue. Not only is our favorite Israeli piece of, umm...shnitzel, Bar Rafaeli, featured in it (see here for fun Bar posts!) but look who she's posing with! Are you kidding me??? I haven't been that excited since the falafel guy near my office gave me extra chumus in my pita for Chanukah.

If that's not enough, as I was writing this, my Gmail notifier told me that I had a new email, announcing the new INTERNATIONAL dates for the Aerosmith tour. Holding my breath, I looked to see if perhaps I'd be singing the words to "Dream On" along with thousands of Israelis...but alas, not this time (sigh).

We'll just have to make do with clips like this.


(And Kanye, why so serious with your swimsuit model? Yeah, I can see why you're angry. You have a tough life.)

So my loyal readers...what band would you like to see pose with Bar Rafaeli and why?

"Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on.....ehhhhh......"

I recently talked to my friend Noga who's been following my adventures. I was interested but not surprised by her impressions of my writing. She was a tad irked (ech omrim "irk"?), not as much by what was on this site as much as what was NOT. "If I didn't know you, I would wonder if you were enjoying yourself in Israel. You make fun of things a lot but you don't always talk about what's great." The thought had in fact crossed my mind before; street cons, the toilet paper lady, and cold showers. Maybe she has a point. Those who know me are well-aware that I'm not cynical about life here (apparently unlike every Israeli, according to their opinions of themselves). It's just more fun to make fun of the ridiculous stuff in life.

"But why did you make fun of the toilet paper lady?" asked Noga. "It's not just in Israel-they do that in Europe!"

"Yeah, but I'm not IN Europe."

Nevertheless, the following is dedicated to Noga to let her know that I do think there's plenty of great stuff in this country. With apologies to Julie Andrews and the typical Yom Ha'atzmaut-ish "Top ___ Things about Israel", these are a few of my favorite things...

• I love that the women are not only hotter than Mitzpe Ramon in July but that they also have a Passover Seder. (Much like the fourth dimension, my human brain is incapable of processing this.)

What? It's been four weeks since a Bar Rafaeli reference???
(For steamier pictures, click here.)

• I love the outdoor cafes/kiosks on Rothschild and that Israelis universally agree that Starbucks (the altar to which American consumers bow their heads and pray) stinks.
• I love that the Ulpan teachers talk to you like you're four and that immigrants from all over the world come together to speak the same language.
• I love that falafel is a healthy snack (OK, maybe I just love choosing to believe the American myth while I scarf it down forty-seven times a week.)
• I love that people I know from all over the place are always visiting this place, the center of the Jewish world (no, it's not the Upper West Side.)
• I love that I can tell a joke about Rosh Hashana at a comedy club here and know that it will be understood by everyone in the audience.

"Kippur? I hardly know her!" (Settle down, that's not a real line.)

• I love wearing jeans to virtually any social event.
• I love the kumkum and the utter shock on every Israeli's face when they ask "but how do you make coffee in America???" in the same manner that teenagers ask how we survived before cell phones. (Since it takes an hour for my dud to heat up during the winter, I plan to shower in the kumkum until March.)

George Jetson, meet the "kumkum"

• I love that it's 12:48 AM, tomorrow is a work day, and Cafe Aroma is still hopping. HOW DO THESE ISRAELI PEOPLE DO IT??? (This warrants its own post.)
• I love cab drivers and how they're genuinely interested in what I'm doing here (and not because I have to tip them.) Sabras/tzabarim say this will wear off. I say we'll see.
• I love expanding my already unrivaled vocabulary of ridiculous Hebrew and Arabic slang and that Israelis think I'm fluent because I can say I have to go the bathroom 47 different ways.
• I love arsim (from afar. When they're leaving me alone.)
• I love Friday in Tel Aviv.
• I love English words which are directly absorbed into the Hebrew language. "Slicha, yesh li peepee!"
• I love how warm and proud of each new immigrant the former olim are and how so many treated me to an "aliyah beer" or dinner. I'm excited to pass it on to the next generation. Shoshana K., I'm waiting for you.
• I love how cheesy American pop music is welcomed with open arms here. For this reason, someone hypothetically can sit in the barber's chair, get a proverbial spring in his step when "Backstreet's Back" comes on, look around, and realize that nobody finds it the least bit weird that said song is being played. This is all hypothetical of course. It never happened.
• I love that I went to World AIDS Day and had my AIDS awareness raised by two macho sperm kicking a soccer ball. (Ok, Noga, I'm back to making fun of this country now.)

This is just a short list. So, my loyal readers, I ask you: what do you love about this place?

"Now boarding...rows Aleph thru Zayin"

The last week of the year…always a popular week to travel. In the States, a time to turn on your “out of office” and use your unusued vacation days. And in Israel, a time to welcome the flood of Americans who visit Israel on a mission, a school trip, work-related event, or stam (just because). A few hundred of those visitors are here this week visiting their kids on Year Course which means a few extra work events for me, meeting with parents and showing them what their kids have been up to for the last 4 months). One of these events happens to be in Eilat, a gala dinner for all of our British participants and their parents. When the opportunity arose to take my first domestic flight within Israel (and recap it for you, my loyal readers), you can bet I jumped at it.

• Dov Hoz Airport (“Sde Dov”) resides just a hop, skip, and a jump from the port of Tel Aviv. This was by far the smallest airport I’d ever flown from. The inside was one room and from the feel of the waiting area/café, we could have been in the middle of rural Kansas (with the rednecks replaced by arsim).

How many spelling mistakes did you find? If you said “three”, you win! (If you didn't, please email me your picture so I can make fun of you in my next entry.)

• The security guy at Arkia Airlines interrogates us far less intrusively than the El Al guys. Are the Arkia security guys like Canadian Football League players who dream of one day making it to the big-time? While based on nothing factual, I feel safer knowing the flight originates and ends IN ISRAEL. Is security even necessary? “I’m going to ask you a few questions: at any point, did someone…no proh-blem, enjoy your flight!”
• I consider filling out an Arkia luggage tag before deciding against it. IT’S ARKIA! Where could my bag possibly get lost? “Hello, Meester Lovitt? I know these sounds crazee seeing that we fly between Tel Aviv and Eilat, but your bag ended up in Tallahassee. It’s the damndest thing!"
• A woman asks “kamah stend-bys yesh?” It’s a good thing she only needs one stend-by. I don’t know if it’s possible to get two stend-byot.
  

"Security, come in, security, come in. We have an unidentified sitter. OVER."

• After engaging in the annual “who’s the most attractive person in the office?” conversation, my co-workers and I prepare to board the tiny plane. Here we go...I’m walking up the stairs...I’m entering, and…? It’s a normal plane. How disappointing. I was hoping for something special to Israel, like a staff of scantily-clad Bar Rafaeli clones fanning us and feeding us chickpeas.

What’s that? It’s been a month since the last Bar Rafaeli reference?
Welcome to my blog, random Google searchers!

• Ech omrim “mile high club”? Moadon 1.6 kilometers?
• As we drive on the runway, I can see we’re just a stone’s throw from the water. Well, a stone’s throw for an athletic person. My throws usually end up in the ground four feet ahead of me.
• I think as a joke, Nefesh B’Nefesh should set up their table and welcome party in Eilat. Israelis would get off the plane, besieged by music, festivities, and “Welcome to Israel!” signs and think “What the hell???” (Actually, imagine any international airport completely redoing an arrivals gate with the language of another country, like a Hollywood set. They bring in a group of “extras” of a different ethnicity, completely freaking out and confusing the incoming flight. Would that be the best April Fool’s joke ever?)
• “Everyone using portable computers are kindly requested to turn them off.” KINDLY REQUESTED??? An Israeli didn’t make that announcement! Call the army-SOMETHING’S GONE HORRIBLY WRONG!
• The pilot translates his announcements into English. That's nice of him but it’s a domestic flight! If I were the pilot, I’d say “Eets Yis-rael! FAHK EET!”
• They just served me Yotvata chocolate milk. I LOVE ARKIA.
  

“If you look to the left, you’ll see where our neighbors want to push us into.”

• The Mediterranean looks beautiful. Seriously, has anyone thought about taking the Kotel and a couple of coffeehouses and setting up shop off-shore? Only praying when a lifeguard is present of course.
• Rejected Arkia slogans: “We loooove to fly, and it…..ehhhhhhhh”, “Arkia: No Davening Here”, “Security? Ha!”
• What does Arkia mean anyway? Regardless, do any investors want to fund my efforts to launch a new airline, Arsia? If the Palestinians deserve the right to self-determination, shouldn’t the arsim have a right to self-transportation? They can build the airport between Holon and Bat Yam and distribute complimentary gold necklaces to first-class passengers. Air Arsia…coming soon to a…AHLO, BOOBAH! (I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore.)
  
• “Thank you for choosing Arkia.” Choosing??? We’re flying Tel Aviv to Eilat, what other options did we have? Hooters Air?
• In a record two seconds after landing, the man next to me stands up and starts walking to the exit of the plane. My co-worker Mike and I lock eyes in amused shock. The flight attendant attempts to say something to him but he disregards her.
  

That concluded my flight. 45 minutes and we made it to Eilat. Nicely done, Arkia. If only I knew how my bags ended up in Maui.

“Cafe, B’vakasha? Coffee, please?”

Let’s review some famous questions in history:
1) Why did the chicken cross the road?
2) Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?
3) Shalom, Benji....ehhhhhhhh, do you want to go to an El Al party with lots of flight attendants?

I was asked one of these three Thursday night (here’s a clue: it didn’t involve winged animals.) My first thought was “is this a radio station prank? No no, this sounds too much like my friend Noga who is in fact a flight attendant. This must be real.” (Editor’s note: “ehhhhhh” added for dramatic effect)

What was the last thing I wrote? About the need to always have my camera for blogging purposes? As it were, I was able to scribble down a few random thoughts on paper.

The price of admission was 70 shekels (I’m not doing the math for you anymore) and it was held on some kibbutz north of Tel Aviv. That’s how parties are done here. In the States, you get married at Congregation Beth Jew. Here? Down the road from chickens. Ok, so it’s not exactly like that, with scruffy field workers walking down the aisle or anything. These kibbutzim often have large halls for this exact business reason, I suppose; you wouldn’t even know you were down the road from chickens (calm down, my Israeli friends). There were a ton of people walking around the area with a DJ playing music in the hall. Aside from the occasional English song (Kanye West, Shakira, etc.), it was all the stuff that I can’t stand: techno, electronic, trance…I’m not sure which it was. Just that they could have played the same song on repeat and I wouldn’t have noticed. I did get a kick out of them playing the extended theme song to “Beverly Hills 90210” as I looked around to see if I was the only incredulous one. Turn right, look around, turn left, try to make eye contact with someone…nope, apparently no one finds this surreal but me.

Is this everybody’s favorite cheesy high school cast?
Nope, it’s just the soundtrack to Israel’s latest dance party.

Other random thoughts…

Throughout the night, I resisted the strong urge to ask a complete stranger for a cup of coffee, suspecting the humor might be lost on them.

At one point, some kind of El Al promotional video played on a large screen. I asked my friend Rani if I needed headphones to watch the movie. He laughed.

Breaking news: Israelis, um…look different from American Jews. And Americans are always complaining about Israel’s poor PR. Why doesn’t the Ministry of Foreign Affairs just videotape one of these parties, duplicate it in mass amounts, and ship it off to the heads of the BBC, CNN, and Al Jazeera? Tourism would skyrocket. Of course, everyone around the world would be clamoring for their right of return. Or at least the right to return to the Tel Aviv beach on a Saturday afternoon.

If Bar Rafaeli was our Foreign Minister,
would the Arabs still hate us?

By the way, they also use the term “meat market” in Hebrew. They call it “shuk basar”. That’s funny.

No raging party would be complete without the Druze woman making pita next to the Bedouin-style tent. I told you I should have had my camera.

Busy, busy, busy

Don’t lose faith in me, loyal readers (all six of you)! It’s been another crazy week which I hope is leading to the light at the end of the tunnel (downtime). I have lots to blog about including my tiyul (hike) up north, my potential apartment, and my recent love affair with Bar Rafaeli:

Ok, so excuse the cheap attempt to keep your interest piqued. Just another day or two till I write...

Eat Your Heart Out, Bar Rafaeli

I started staff orientation today for work so things are getting busy. I also registered for health insurance so I can get sick now.

Short entry: this was forwarded to me today. I showed up on the website of Arutz Sheva several days ago. They are a right-wing religious media outlet which explains why none of my news junkie friends saw it and sent it to me. I don’t know if this showed up in a newspaper but there’s a good chance none of the readership knows me so I guess I’ll never know. Anyway, here it is.

Scroll down to see my picture.

Surprisingly, I haven’t been stopped on the street even once.