While Sderot gets rockets every day, we in Tel Aviv have been free all week – until tonight.  But we were ready.  Today I was talking with friends who just refreshed the food they keep in the hall closet so they can grab the cooler on the way to the shelter.   

We met at the beach, after the years of Covid and the war had separated us, and the first thing they asked was whether we had a bomb-safe room.  We don’t.  Then we learned about their medicine kit, their food cooler, their coffee maker, the overnight case.  “It’s over,” I said. “We have to concentrate on helping the reconstruction of the concept of Israel.”  “Not yet,” he said, “We should first concentrate on finding a country that will take us in.”  

I laughed.

A few hours later the rockets were shot down over the south of the city as I was news-channel hopping and I saw how much we are hated around the world.  And I had nothing to laugh about.