My watch keeps telling me that I’m too excited. My heart is doing all kinds of flip flops, and I’m really looking forward to an unrelated zoom this evening.
But tonight – tonight is going to be one of those revenge nights from Yemen, with a lot of alarms, running upanddown the stairs, and no sleep.
Its been a difficult week, figuring out how to do google invitations for a zoom. But now it works and it will be easy to do in the future, so i can teach others to do it – instead of me.
And I may even do an event of my own for my 80th birthday.
After lying in bed for so much time because the room is spinning, I realized I had ordered a suit by mail for a party I never got to go to. So yesterday, as part of my recuperation, we began texting and messaging the mailing company – to no avail. We decided there was no alternative but to track the company down, and found an address in Petach Tikva.
It’s going to be a dog kennel, I promised Ezi, who served as my driver and the guy holding me up when I lost balance. But when we finally found it, the place was an enormous warehouse with thousands of bins that seemed almost organized. And we even found a tiny office in the maze of bins. The guy with the computer, however, couldn’t find my package on the lists. Anywhere.
He could have said, sorry, you’ll get your money back from the company next month. But he rose and walked out. We waited – maybe half an hour – before he returned to say it probably didn’t arrive yet. And we left, not really disappointed, because we didn’t really expect the package to be found.
All this reminded me of the Israeli/Hungarian humorist Ephraim Kishon who did a famous shtik on the Israeli post office generations ago. and even wrote a board game
This isn’t a substack or a journal or a daily paper, because I only write when I see something you should know about, and only if I have time. Forgive me, there are so many things like that – things that only an unimportant person like me would bother with, but are so indicative of an entire society. But I’ve got to rush off to the hospital now because Ezi has an appointment to have a cyst on his back removed. It is a cyst that appears every time we fly and causes him great pain, and me a lot of disgust because it has to be drained every day, and I’m going to applaud when the doctors leave the operating room.
If you think we’re only suffering from PDSD here, let me add another basic trauma we are all suffering from – survivors’guilt. How can I enjoy myself completely when my cousins are starved, tortured, frozen, suffering. I think of the girls who have been mutilated, raped, tortured, and I can’t really enjoy myself completely.
Today two women in their seventies were killed in a terrorist attack. A man in his forties was also killed – while his son watched. Two soldiers were seriously injured as well. I’ve been noticing more and more that old ladies like me are good targets of terrorists – the terrorist has to fill a quota and we are easier targets. Even that affects me.
I once had a trainer who I asked to teach me some self defence. He started with a pillow against his chest, and he asked me to hit him. I failed again and again. Maybe because he was such a nice guy – maybe because I’ve never learned violence. I’m sure most of the women my age are like that.
But anyway how do you fight against armed men?
So there’s a third syndrome we’re operating with – fear.
Somehow the subject of Judges 19 came up in a conversation on why not read the bible. This sent me to read the chapter and I was horrified. Such terrible crimes, such murder, such silly battles, such a stupid loss of life.
There was a lot that reminded me of today, and then I came to the last line – “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.”
This is the perfect introduction to the next books – of Samuel and Kings and the beginning of order. But we don’t need a king, we just need leaders who aren’t criminals and who behave justly – for themselves and for us.
When a conversation was recorded between 2 Hamas men about a new captive, and they referred her as a “filly,” I was filled with such terror I cannot describe.