It was announced yesterday that this is the most expensive city in the world.  Who was surprised?  When I chose to live in this country, I knew I was lowering my standard of living.  I knew I would be living in a smaller place, that I would be spending more of my money on food and electricity, and water than all my friends in the world, and I agreed to that deal.  I also knew that life would be more competitive and dangerous.  But so what?  Yesterday my nine-year-old granddaughter felt like riding on the carousel.  It was cold and windy and no other children were there.   She was a head taller than the roof of the car she rode, and in the three minutes of the ride she managed to mount every one of the horses and donkeys and carts meant for children half her age.  It was hilarious but it brought me back to when I was a child longing to ride on the merry-go-round.  I couldn’t afford it then, but I rejoiced in paying 12 shekalim for those 3 minutes.  Four dollars. 

However, my pleasure was 10 times greater, that it was on the port of Tel Aviv, that the car was a defunct Israeli Susita, that there was a horse-drawn milk wagon on the merry-go-round, and that the parody of the situation transferred to my granddaughter. 

So money is a relative thing.