Road Trip of Holiness (including the Sfat mikvah adventure)

In the wake of one of my friends recent breakup with his girlfriend, he decided that me and a couple of the madrichim should take a road trip up north and back for a "Holy Day". To be honest I didn't know the extent of our itinerary until we left but it was no biggie, I was down for a road trip with the guys. Our first destination was the Kineret. On the way up we listened to a excellent array of rock n roll mainly featuring the works of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, the Gin Blossoms, Weezer, and of course the Pumpkins. We were also privy to a wide variety of heinus odors including manure, sewage, marijuana (either we past a pot farm or people nearby were lighting up), spoiled milk, and everyones favorite....feces!! (we also though we may have caught the reeking hint of Judy and Debbie in the air aka The Earth Stinkers). We were very lucky that Israel has been unseasonably warm, and decided to go for a quick dup in the Kineret. While it was about 80 degrees the water was more like 45. I, being a wuss when it comes to the cold, very hesitantly made my way in. Eventually we had some splishy splashy fun (it wasn't the homosexual variety...that would come later), and pictures are available upon request, but be warned I am shirtless- put your tongue back in your mouth Elan...u2 Jessica. We then skipped some stones and I skipped my all time high of 6. I know that's not so good but I'm not a great stone-skipper.....although down a yellow brick road I can skip with the best of them. After we got reclothed we obliged my the road trip rules by playing "Freebird" and then head up to sfat....but not before we stopped at the grave of Chabbakuk right off the Jordan River.
Chabbakuk was one of the neviim in Trei Asar. I felt bad that a man who actually spoke with
G-d had a very small, "modest" grave, but maybe that's the beauty of it. I wonder if he foresaw us coming? Anyways we said some prayers and headed back on the road. At this point in the day I was quite hungry but we couldn't stop for lunch just yet because we had to say mincha at the grave of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, but I was very cranky due to the hunger and the fact that I had a poor nights sleep (we woke up at 6). Fortunately we then got to Sfat and I had some pizza and ice cream and all was OK again. This was my first time in The Mystical City without a tour and the four of us were surprised to find that there was a very large secular community. I'm talking girls in sleeveless shirts, questionably kosher stores, a lingerie boutique with a teddy in the front window, men without kipahs, and the man who sold me my ice cream took flaming to a whole new level...not that I'm judging any of this, I just found it odd that this existed in Sfat. I realized how naive I was as I had only been to the "Holy" parts of the city with the various tours I was with, without taking into consideration the size of the town. Of course the entire town wasn't super duper frum!!
At this point I would like to take a brief pause to state that I absolutely loathe the music of Macy Grey (shes on VH1 in the background and ruined my train of thought). And now for the really fun stuff:
Following lunch we made our way down to the Aree's mikvah. For the record I usually don't mind going to the mikvah as it is genuinely an ego boost :) Anyways.... this is the most famous mikvah in the world, although it certainly is not the most aesthetically pleasing, nor is the most pleasant or soothing. There are no changing rooms and the floor is always flooded.Furthermore it is genuinely populated by chassidim who fortunately don't have the best hygiene (perhaps they think it's just a greeting) and the place always reeks of B.O. (another odor on the list!). What this mikvah is probably most famous for(Aside form the great Talmud chachum for whom it's named) is that the water is always freezing, and I mean freezing!! (See above for my feelings on cold water). Now before we got in there was a fully clothed chusid just watching everyone get naked and go in the water. I have no idea what he was doing there and why he was watching everyone dip, but needless to say it made me uncomfortable. I straight out asked him if he batted for the other team and would he mind not looking at me strip and go in. Of course he didn't know any English and just smiled and nodded in the most foppish of ways. At this point it occurred to us that he might just be the lifeguard (If Jim Carrey can lifeguard a hottub...:), and then we started imagining what it would be like if there was a chussidishe guy on "Baywatch". We simply lost it when we pictured him running slowly down the beach with his tzizit and peyes bobbing up and down in slow motion, his beard being caressed by the sun, his flab flying this way and that. It was something. Unfortunately whatever kavana I might have had was lost at this point and amidst the laughter I just took my towel off and went in (I can only imagine the lifeguard enjoyed this). The water was just subzero and I let out a high pitch scream and some sort of inappropriate comment on how I went to the mikvah a few months ago and didn't need to go now. I did my dipping, got out and started getting dressed again. Then I felt kind of guilty about my unserious attitude moments ago, and decided that I should "double dip" to make up for it. Now in mikvah terminology the term "Double Dip" means that you go into the water while someone else is there too. Generally one tries to avoid this for obvious homosocial/homosexual reasons that went out of fashion with the Roman Empire, especially in the Sfat mikvah which is quite, quite small. I headed back towards the water and was waiting for an 18-year-old chusidshe boy to get out. A few minutes went buy and we realized that this boy wasn't doing the general 3 or 7 dips that most people do. It seemed that this kid was going for a full 613. I tried to ask Duvid Hasselhofskowitz what the deal was but he didn't seem to understand, and was oddly giddy as well. We were in a bit of a rush and it seemed that I had little choice: I had to double dip on my double dip. I stayed as close to the wall as I could, and avoided any possible contact. I did my dipping, kept my hands to myself-as did the kid- had the proper kavana in mind and got the heck out of there while my friends said "I can't believe you double dipped."
We got back to the car and headed towards our main destination of the day: The grave of Rav Yonatan Ben Uziel in Amookah. For those of you who don't know this is THE place to daven for one in need of a shidduch (and as my friend has been trying to reconcile with his ex, Amookah essential cog in his formula to get her back- for the record this wasn't me, but an actual friend.) My personal davening was a little unbalanced but I made sure to have in mind with the utmost kavana all of my single friends and family who are "looking"(That means you!). As for my own tefillah, well I think that'll stay with me- we'll just have to wait and see how things play out. I do hope all of our tefillahs are answered, that one friend in particular.
From there the four of us made our way towards Teveriah, but decided to just head on back to Jerusalem and daven maariv at the kotel. The drive only took about 2.5 hours (And of course the music was swell once again). We got to the Kotel and prayed. Though my tefillot during the course of the day may not have been as heavy and emotional as a couple of my pals I was still feeling good. I mean in one day I visited the kevers of three great tzadikkim, went to Sfat, dunked in the Aree's mikvah, and ended off at the Kotel. I was in a good mood and wanted to share it with those around me. I figured the best way to do this was to give random people high fives. Me and one of the guys tried to high five as many people as we could. Unfortunately most people just walked on by as we raised our hands up and said "High Five!" In the end I ended up winning 4-3 (and all 7 of those people were very happy to get a random high five), but right before we got to the car I spotted a yeshivaish looking guy (hat, black and white etc...) with his hands in his pockets. I decided we just needed to go for it The five of us (we picked up another friend at the Kotel) all lined up and said "High Five!" The Black hatter missed the first one of us but then got the last four! It was a great high five line, and he was certainly laughing. I think we should all make the effort to high five more people at random. Trust me it'll make both participants in the fiving happy.
From there we stopped at KFC at mevaseret (where I was forced to order the kiddy meal on top of my zinger in order to get the "Star Wars" toy!!!). We reminisced and laughed about the day, and then headed on back to yeshiva. An hour later the friend who planned it all told me that his ex just got in touch with him. They spoke for a while,and though they're not back together things are looking much better than they have in the last month. I'll keep you updated on this, but it certainly was a great end to a great day.....
Actually the last thing I did was watch an episode of "24" (I just got hooked out of boredom).... which really was the perfect end to the day even if it wasn't as well "plotted" as the previous ending was, but it was the truth. Till next time, I'm the Hopeful Fool.

Post Thanksgiving Rant

Yesterday was "Turkey-Day", and so millions of Americans got together to eat fat birds, pumpkins, yams and watch football. And why? Well to celebrate the fact that the fanatical Puritans survived there first winter in the "New World" with the help of the Indians. Of course these same Puritans would burn "heretics" at the stake, oppress Jews, and how could anyone forget the fact that their descendants essentially killed all the Native Americans and took all their land, all in the name of Manifest Destiny (there's also some halachic issues in the real of chukat goyim I could get into but I won't get into those here). I for one don't really celebrate this day .
My family never celebrated the day, though when we would get invited to a meal we would generally go, ussually out of politeness. But my father would never have a meal in our home. He just didn't believe in the day. And once Billy Corgan agreed with my father, educating me in the fact that this great "tradition" is wound in hypocrisy then I too developed serious misgivings about this "holiday". Personally I would rather listen to Pumpkins than eat them, would rather have chicken than Turkey, couldn't find the Detroit Lions more boring, and have no idea what a yam is, but can't imagine they taste too good. And this whole thing about going around the table saying what we're thankful for? I think that's what davening is for, no? I wonder if Thanksgiving is more like Tisha Baav for the Indians? I don't think there's anything wrong with having a nice get together as just about everyone is off and it's a good opportunity to do so, but the traditions of the day should be highly scrutinized.
Last night I took my Rebbe from America to a nice Italian dinner. No turkey, pumpkins or yams. Just baked ziti and lasagne. It was just another day with another meal, nothing thanksgiving about it. Now I love America and I look forward to being back there soon. I honestly feel more at home there than I do in Israel. I even watched "A League of Their Own" last night and was overcome with a mixed sense of American pride and nostalgia. It's a shame that America did become so great partially because of the oppression of Native Americans. I think it would be more fitting to add a new tradition of lamentation in memory of the Indians. But hey these are just my feelings about the day, I'm sure many people have very different opinions in contradiction to my own, and that's cool.

In other news, I'm still feeling quite good these days. I also offered some fresh chocolate danishes to a homeless man the other night who turned them down because they were too fattening. I guess this guy was a relocated homeless man from Beverly Hills.
I also saw "Flightplan" this week which was pretty far-fetched, though Jodi Fosters acting, though over-the-top, made it bearable and even entertaining as times. I have to go now though, it's time for "Head of The Class!!"

TOP 10 CAMP HILLEL MEMORIES

Now before all of you who know me well sit there agape wondering how I could ever forgo a Camp Raleigh list, please be aware that I am a man who loves saving the best for last. So fear not there will be a similar list in a future blog detailing some of the best days of my life, in one of my true loves....The BIG REISH (not to be confused with Reishit, though I do sometimes call it that, but usually feel guilty after). So lets get to the list. Here are my TOP TEN CAMP HILLEL MEMORIES (This is the Camp Hillel that's part of Chippinaw now).

(Fools note- certain memories were a bit too private to be placed here.)
10. Getting over and flirting with a cop to try to get out of a ticket one night coming back from Middletown- I wasn't really "flirting", just being overly friendly. We had just seen "Windtalkers" and were of course disappointed by it, so I chatted it up with the copper. I thought it was going well but he ticketed us anyway. But what made it twice as funny was that I was in the car with the same driver two weeks earlier when he got nailed for going 105. Two tickets in two weeks= sucks for my friend, hilarious for me. (Summer 02)
9. "Rocking in the Free World"- I was just getting decent enough at guitar, and I figured "what the hell?" I got three of my pals (Doovviiiiii, Mattoooooo, Schwitza!) to sing the lead and we rocked hard!! Or at least I did. It's safe to say I went a tad over the top, while the other guys just laughed at my Marty McFly like rocking. I've mellowed in subsequent shows, and am still proud of my headbanging early rocking. I think I made Neil Young proud. (Summer '00)
8. Banquet 2002- I had left camp a few days early because I was heading back to Israel. But I came back for the last night with my then girlfriend (she spent the summer back in Queens. It was really tough being apart). It was great being all relaxed with my campers, laughing about this prank and that fight, and Marc even got out of bed to come!. I had a couple of drinks (with Bere in "mommy's" room- the place we kept our stuff for our summers there- we love you mommy!!!), made some good jokes and was very confused to find Matt's dad cutting and serving meat behind one of the buffet tables. But overall it really was great having the then girlfriend share in my summer, and all the great friends I had there, and having them share some of my great triumphs and follies of the previous years (as well as my "decent" color war banner ). It was the last night I ever spent in Hillel, and I have to say it was one of the happiest nights of my life. (summer 02...duh)
7. The "asshole" Incident. For the record it wasn't my fault. Basically the story goes like this: We were having intercamps against Mesorah and were in a very heated football game (I was coaching the 5's). Now the ref was quite bad so one of the Mesorah rebbeim of the camp took it upon himself to take over, without a Hillel ref to make it fair. We were up by a point or two with about 30 seconds to go. One of our players had an interception, took 2 steps and then had the ball knocked out of his hands. We all started celebrating.The rabbi called the play an incomplete pass and it was still Mesorah ball. The Hillel kids and everyone watching went nuts. I argued with him, but he got shockingly belligerent. I had heard that this rabbi was very competitive, and hated to lose. My guess is that he knew he was cheating and felt guilty about it and that's why he was being so rude to me. Anyways, Mesorah scored and we lost. Then one of the Hillel kids (not me!) started chanting "assssshoooollleeeee, asssssshooollllllleeeee". Then the entire crowd started doing it. And the Mesorah Rabbi left in a fury, being serenaded with the "asshole" chant all the way to his bus and I was quite happy about it at the time. The kids were even chanting it as the pulled away. I know it was wrong (wasn't it?), but it was still one hell of an experience. For the record that was the last time Hillel ever had intercamps with Mesorah. (summer '00)
6. The Middletown Mall- Ahhhh so much fun was had there. Buying cheap clothes, winning scratch lotto games (K-you won $20 once no?), Baskin Robbins, Hot Topic, chatting with the locals, and of course the movie theater. Many a movie was seen there. In fact I once saw three movies in one day there (I think they were "X-Men", "The Patriot" and "Scary Movie" but I could be mistaken). This might seem like a week entry but a good day off usually centered around the Mall, and it was always a good escape from those lovable, but pesky kids. (summers '00, '01,'02)
5.Pranking sleeping kids in the middle of the night. Usually this would consist of asking them ridiculous questions in there sleep like "Where's the key?" or "What happened to the Snuffalufugus?". Other nights we would just scare them and tell them there was a fire and they had to get out immediately (that one probably shouldn't have been so funny....yet it was). The best time we ever had doing this was waking a bewildered "Camper from Paris" who wondered out in half-sleep wearing nothing but tighty-whities, complaining about his missing blanket (Summer '00, '01)
4. Making my first Siyum- It was messechet Makkot, and I finished it his with the one who has such underused nicknames as "Bubba" ,"Chuckles", and "Shocksy", an one overused one of the "Shtark" variety. I was very overcome with motion when I finished it- a year earlier I never would have imagined I would have done something like that. My sister and a couple of nephews came up, as well as my parents. I spoke in front of the whole camp (well I think) and I think it was the proudest my dad ever was of me. (Summer '01)
3. Guys n' Dolls- Sure, I was involved with the stage manager at the time, and a bunch of my friends were in the play and we had a lot of fun (I think I played Benny...if there is such a character). But what made this play oh so classic is one simple word.....CIDA!!!!! I think maybe 4 people got that, which makes it all the more worth it. Also the way CIDA!!! magically dissapeared before a song and The Kingof TV simply appreared to sing for him was shameful, yet hilarious. (Summer '00)
2. Color War '01- Ok ok, I know my alam matter lost. But besides that one judge can anyone say that our song wasn't 1000x better, even the opposing teams "songwriters" admitted it (though I think one of them was trying to sleep with me at the time). "Summer Days" was simply an outstanding alma mater, not to be outdone by any other tune I've heard in my summer days (perhaps "Goodbye to Raleigh", but that's it). And it was still a great thrill arranging the song, and being up there leading the way as the kids executed it perfectly. I also delivered a shocking upset against CIDA!!! in the skit- which really was quite hysterical (thanks again Bernard).
Being Color War General isn't easy. Sometimes you feel like your buckling under the pressure (and yell at a retired General? Right Shatzki?), and that it's not worth it. But then you remember you're love for camp, love for what color war means, and though it might seem rewardless and arbitrary, you just do it. You simply go out there and kick Dov's ass! GO GOLD!! (Summer 01)
1. The Friday Night Tishes- It seems there was nothing I couldn't get away with during my inebriated overseeing of this weekly tradition, be it dancing on the table, commenting on how certain girls looked in certain outfits (ahhhhh the sweater comment....hey, I was drunk), or simply passing out as the night went along. These were great nights, with great friends (in fact the four guys I consider myself closest with were all Tish regulars....awwwww) and despite what it sounds like there really was great singing, solid dvar torah, and edible chulent. (Summer 01)

So that's it. If I forgot anything major I'll let you know.There are certain memories I left out to be on the safe side as I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Should I get their permission I'll post 'em on the comments page (Josh Becker 4ever???).
I think I might also do a Top Ten Hillel Personalities blog- though that could really hurt some people's feeling. And I don't know if I could hold back on that blog. I'm shocked I didn't make fun of Sid once in this one!

Head of My Class....Almost

It's about 2:00 am on a Saturday night and I'm writing this from my new apartment. Don't worry I didn't leave yeshiva, but sometimes it can be a bit much, and I felt I needed to have my own place with a little peace and quiet. My friend knew a guy subletting his place, and the rent was cheap so I figured "why not"? Now my apartment is really nothing more than a small room with a decent porch to it. But it's in a good neighborhood (on the edge of the German Colony and Katamon), right off Emek, and most importantly I'm around people my age. I really like a lot of the kids at school (and theres some I don't too), but it's just a bit much being around teenagers all day. Now the part of the plan was to get this place and get back to my writing...Unfortunately I haven't written much of anything since I finished my screenplay.....and even more unfortunate is the fact that my computer crashed a few days ago (out of nowhere!!) At first it seemed like I might have totally lost all the info on my hard drive (my music, pics, 90% of ALL MY WRITINGS!) and when that was the case I was just losing it, fortunately it seems like we may be able to save it. But I had to send the machine back to America and will hopefully get it back good to go in a week or so.
OK I know that stuff is very boring, but it's been of importance to me. So now let's get to more interesting stuff....my continuous inner turmoil. But truth me told I'm still doing pretty well. I mean I do get down at times, and feel lonely at others, but I haven't had any sort of crippling angst or depression overcome me. I've still been doing a lot of stuff alone (still by choice for whatever reason), and doing a lot of inner searching....which actually sounds kind of weird when put like that, like Salinger writing an episode of the "Twilight Zone" or something. I guess I'm just looking for inner peace, trying to block out those negative emotions that prevent me from so much happiness in my life. I think I've been making progress religiously, almost coming into my own. I'm modern-Orthodox, I don't think I'm going to change that one way or the other, and for better or worse it seems that's how I'm going to live my life. I've been (re)accepting the fact that we just don't have free will when it comes to certain things in life, and bitching about it isn't going to change anything. I've learned that it's very hard to be really content (which in my mind equals happiness) in life when you want so much, but that you can't let that stop you from making the best of what you do have. I suppose that's a seemingly simple insight, but it's just something that's been on my mind. I think that's it for now. There's is a really heavy blog coming up soon, but I need more time to formulate it better. In the meantime I'm going to get back to the greatness that is Middle Eastern TV: a magical station where I can always catch episodes of my childhood favorite sitcoms "Growing Pains" and the show that I can't believe I still find excellent as an adult, "Head of the Class". I think we need positive, fun shows like this again on TV. I mean can anyone remember the last successful sitcom that centered around teens in a mischievously wholesome way?Where are the Mike Seavers and Zach Morris's? I'd even settle for a Theo Huxstable or a Samathan Masseli. Remember in camp how the rabbis would always show us episodes of "TAXI" in chinuch? Well I think that the next generation of kids should be graced with episodes of "Head of the Class", it's just that educational, but also realistic (unlike "Saved By the Bell", which is fun in the satirical sense)....and hilarious as well. Is Dennis not the funniest, heavy smart-ass in TV history? Are Arvid and Eric not perfect binary oppositions? Isn't it great how true Mr. Moore's wisdom is? Does anyone know what the hell I'm talking about?

Great Balls of Fire!

I can't really explain it but I've been feeling kinda good the last day or so. It might have to do with the fact that I've become comfortable in doing my own thing, or that I gave a surpisingly succesful shiur the other day, or that I just had a really good jelly doughnut. It doesn't really matter, the fact is things are looking up.
I did witness one of the funniest things I've ever seen in the dorms the other day. I walked into one of the rooms just looking for one of the guys, and there I beheld two boy in there underware sitting on the floor, legs spread apart about ten feet across from each other playing a very interesting game. The game invovled a tennis ball and the oponent trying to drop a rainbow shot into the others baysim (a.ka., ding-dongs, shmeckels, pop rocks, hangers, the boys, the twins, nadsicles or just plain testicles- feel free to post more names....I probably will). One boy would sit with his arms behind his back and amazingly wouldn't flinch as the other boy would lob the tennis ball into the air, hoping to hit the family jewels. At first they missed nearly every time, though there were some close calls. Then finally one of the boys gracefully launched the ball through the air and hit the mark with an uncomfortable sounding "pop". The other boy laughed for a second, then his eyes rolled up into his head, and he keeled over, leaving me and the other two boys watching convulsing in laughter. Now as a madrich, should I have stopped this game in some way? HELL NO! If there's one thing I've learned in life it's that a guy getting hit in the crotch is ALWAYS funny...no matter what. Soccer ball hits the goaly in the little gentleman turning them into smurfs=funny. A guys riding a horse and gets thrown into the air, landing harshly on his saddle and crushing his little buddies=funny. An old lady is getting mugged and swings her purse into her attackers jimmies=funny. Kevin McCallister shoots a beeby into Marv's grenades=funny. I dare you to come up with a scenario involving a mans
hobbly-wobblies getting hit that isn't funny. So no, I wasn't going to stop this for ANY REASON. The boys would just have to learn their lesson themsevles.....I know I did..... (que the Wayne's World flachback "didlyoo, didlyoo, diddlyoo")
It was the spring of 2000. I was a senior in high school. The Mets were reminding Queens what exciting baseball was like. Bon Jovi was making their big come back with "It's My Life", and Russel Crowe was becoming an international star with "Gladiator". We were careless at this point in our lives, having secured our gradution from HAFTR, and bleekly looking forward to our advancements towards adulthood. One shabbos my friend Josh and I went to our buddy's Elan. His dad wasn't home and it was just the three of us. Fun things happened, but I will fast forward to the following evening when we elected to stay in and play an interesting game, rather than go to shul. We were bored and noticed a bowl of fruit on the table. I don't know whose idea it was or how it came to pass but after first rolling the oranges and applres across the floor into each others crotchland we eventually decided to try to pitch the the fruit at each other. But instead of using a plate to decide what was a strike we just used each others gonads. We stood twently feet away and attempted to "lightly" pitch oranges, apples and peaches into our yankee doodles. No logic. No intelligence. No jock strap. We just did it till we could stand no more. I know I had a couple of strike outs and I clearly remember Josh landing a wicked changeup right in the heart of the strike zone. We knew we were being stupid at the time, and still enjoyed ourselves. Later, ice packs in place, we just laughed about our foolishness. It was the most enjoyable painful moment of my life.

So perhaps all young men have a tendency to throw objects at each others ping-pongs at some point or another. Maybe the ensuing pain (And trust me ladies it is remarkably painful) is a sort of passage towards manhood. Perhaps it's just a coming of age. Yes it's idiocy, but it makes for a good blog. And with that I wish you all a good shabbos!!!

The Joint

It was another quiet out-Shabbos in Yeshiva, and having already turned back the clock, davening and dinner were finished by about seven o'clock. I'm not the type who can sleep for eight hours straight, let alone thirteen. And I wasn't in the mood to just hang around and chill with the guys. This meant that I had a lot of time to kill. Yet I was prepared for the long night ahead as I'd recently found myself taking long walks by my lonesome, and activity I was finding addicting, depressing, and soothing all at once, which probably added to its allure. But most of all it seemed to emancipate me from the school that seemed to becoming more like a prison to me as the day went by.
Bet Shemesh is fortunately a good ten degrees warmer than Jerusalem on a usual night, but this Friday it was a comfortable 60 degrees. I took the latest novel I was reading, a simple love story about to artists in their upper thirties who finally end up together after years of separation, and made my way through the town. No real destination, no forebodings, no concern. I was just getting away, going my own way, getting lost in my thoughts, hoping something or someone of interest would chance by me.
I first passed by a couple of cute Ethiopian women, but being that my Hebrew is poor, and that I'm not the type to approach random women, I made eye contact with them, and we wished each other "Shabbat Shalom", and moved on. I continued on and found myself by the lower-class apartment-complex part of town, what some would consider the slums. There were many secular teenagers outside, laughing, tackling, and chasing one another in a playful fashion. They paid no attention to me, and I was careful not to pay too much attention to them. I was in no mood to talk to American teenagers, how much more so did I not want to talk to their Israeli counterparts.
I decided to go uptown from there to enjoy the view. I reached the top of a hill, found a strong street lamp, looked put and the enchanting hills in the horizon, sat down, and read for an hour or so. The occasional person passed by and distracted me with a greeting, but for the most part I read, escaping my current surroundings. I finished my book and decided to take the long way back. I made way to the outer edges of the slums, and decided to go down a dark side street rather than the main, lit road. It was very quiet for the first block or so and then I heard some laughter and came upon three teenage boys in a side crevice. I quickly smelled the hazing culprit that no doubt aided there laughter. I stopped and looked at them. The first two looked like atypical modern Israeli teens. Jeans, soccer shirt, slicked back hair, skinny. The third was Ethiopian, but had a similar dress. They saw me and smiled. There was nothing threatening in their grins, nothing that caused me alarm. In fact they seemed to be happy, certainly much happier than I was in my life. The exhaled waist seemed to circle around them forming an odd halo that almost dignified their juvenile delinquency.
I simply nodded back at them after receiving their smile and the Ethiopian held out the joint to me, and I my mind erupted. For the first time in my life I had been feeling the urge to experiment in drugs over the last few weeks. Having never experienced what it's like to be high, and having been a victim, in my own mind, of the second hand destruction of drugs, I wondered what it would be like to be a first hand participant. I had always shrugged off any drug that was past before me, but tonight this joint was calling to me like that first beer of the night the alcoholic in denial tells himself will be his last. I wanted to get high, to leave my sorrow behind, to maybe reach a different plane in life that I had ever stumbled upon. It was right in front of me, all I had to do was reach out and puff. I was seventeen again, and yet I had the apathy that was vacant years ago.
"It's only pot", I bluntly told myself. A line I had heard so many times in the past. I line I had debated a thousand times in the last year. A line I had reacted to stringently without fail, and as a result alienated my past love. I had blamed the drug, and though I know now that it was as much my fault at the drugs, still felt such hatred towards it. But now I was the one who felt lost in life, who felt unhappy. I remember how My Almost tried to explain how soothing marijuana was to her, how it was the only thing that put het at ease. How I longed to understand that at the time, and how I completely understood the lure of the drug now, watching it emit it's numbing fumes into the nights air, passing over the dying flames of Shabbos candles lit on the apartment above. And with that image my mind was made up. I smiled at the three boys, told them "No thanks" in their native tongue, and went my way. The boys wished me "Shabbat Shalom", before I was fully away from them. The greeting, which I've said thousands of time in my life, rang with heart warming approval in my ears, seeming to add just cause to my decision; one that was made simply out of respect for this day. I knew that no matter how far I could fall, how unhappy I might become, that I would always be true to number Seven, and I made my way back to my temporary home not knowing whether I would succumb to such unfortunate yet enticing temptation in the future, but still feeling an inner strength that had been vacant for far too long. Much like a decision I made years ago that limited my physical relationships, I knew that there was a line I simply wouldn't brake when it came to the sanctification of the day. The dope, that far too man speak highly of, may find it's way into my lounges, but I was able to resist it this one day. Perhaps the day I needed to resist it most.
I thought back to my childhood and remembered the boxes of candy that I had enjoyed: Alexander the Grape, Lemonheads, Red Hots, and my favorites, Cherry Clans. On the inner flap of each box there was a message, something along the lines of: "SAY NOPE TO DOPE". I thought of My Almost once more, and I laughed a healthy laugh.