I’m no longer taken in by sunshine, warmth, clarity. When I woke up this morning and walked Smalldaughter to the bus stop, I wasn’t fooled by the blue-skied view that seemed to stretch from the middle of my muddled morning mind all the way to the white-crested mountain range adorning the peninsula across the Big Read More →
Going away, coming home
20-April-2010It’s different from back home. At Ben Gurion Int’l Airport, you should plan to come early and stay awhile — that’s just the same. When you’ve been on the No Fly list since before the U.S. government admitted to having a no-fly list, you become quite accustomed to hurry up and wait. It wasn’t a Read More →
Just busy-ness
19-April-2010In the past “baker’s week,” I’ve bumbled into a few things. Happily, I’ve had lots of help — both in bumbling in, and in flailing back out. Quick update, then off to an Independence Day dinner with future friends whom I do not yet know: – interviewed moto-medics from three separate EMS agencies, and accompanied Read More →
Lost again.
17-April-2010I was supposed to link up with the Harley guys. “It’s easy,” Eitan said, a week ago when I picked up his big, black hog. Had he known I was going to use it to chase medics around through Tel Aviv and Jerusalem traffic, he might not have been sanguine about dropping the key Read More →
Kosher?
16-April-2010I went to get a coffee at the lobby bar, and asked the bartender — who was efficient, courteous and courtly — about buying a container of spreadable chocolate for the kids. Turns out there’s a grocery store close by. He gave me walking directions, then quietly warned me not to eat it in the Read More →
SPU – Jerusalem
13-April-2010Filtering Jerusalem traffic, two-up on a long-wheelbase hog, in the sun at paddling speeds, is exhausting. We rode into the square where the Western Wall is. You don’t DO that, but we did. Special Police Unit were our escorts. The SPU aren’t exactly “cops” in the traditional sense. Ask them whether they are more “cop” Read More →
Tel-Aviv
12-April-2010We busted through traffic like gun-mounted Strykers, siren wailing and blipping like a mad, mad metronome, then snaked down a brick pathway to the segregated orthodox beach (it’s Man Night today) where a boy had nearly drowned in the unusually high surf, which we could see pounding the breakwater and busting higher into the air Read More →
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