"Reality-based"

So let me get this clear:

1. You arrive in the US illegally as a child, live there many years, achieve fame (or not). Then you reveal your status. We're all supposed to feel bad and change our views on, well, that little ol' thing called the "law" because of that and acclaim you a true-blue American.

2. You arrive in the US as a child (legally? who knows), grow up there, never really know your country of origin. You commit a heinous crime and are sentenced to death. Time comes for execution fifteen (!!) years later, and suddenly you "discover" that you're not an American and you (and both the Mexican and US [!!!, sadly but not suprisingly] governments) start demanding all sorts of rights based on that.

His last words, of course (thank God Texas doesn't buckle under to pressure), are in praise of the country he never lived in.

Does...not...compute...

Full disclosure: I'm a (legal) dual citizen myself. But I'm not demanding any sort of special treatment. Nor am I (case one) lying or (case two) murdering, it goes without saying.

Edited to add: For another example of non-computing in this case, see here.

I love this country

The biggest news story in Israel over the last few days has been- I kid you not- the high price of cottage cheese. I have yet to make up my mind whether this is a Good Thing (maybe we really don't have anything else to worry about?) or a Bad Thing (are we whistlin' past the cemetery?).

Or maybe Israelis just really like their dairy products.

As to the issue itself, I don't even like cottage cheese (the word is the same in Hebrew, by the way), so I'd be pretty disappointed if, say, the government fell over this. (Hey, governments have fallen for a lot less- and stayed in power despite a lot more.)

"Christians."

Many moons ago, I applied to the United States Navy JAG Corps. I was interviewed at their recruiting center in lower Manhattan by an officer, while another sat at his desk on the other side of the office, his back towards us- i.e., for purposes of this story, he couldn't see my kippa.

Among other questions, Lt. Rock (short for his long Germanic name) asked me a bunch about drug and alcohol use, and my answers were pretty bland- very little drinking, never used hard drugs, never smoked pot. At the last, I distinctly heard the other officer mutter to himself, in a deprecatory tone, "Christian." (He meant it in the way, well, Christians do- as a born-again type.)

That story just popped into my head. (As I mopped the floor, in fact.) For the last few days, I've been agog at the anguish some are going through about Bin Laden's death and the subsequent reaction. (I am not at all agog at the bang-up way the White House has been handling the aftermath. Can't anybody here play this game?) At first, it was the Catholics over at NRO, so my first (unposted there) thought was, "Thank God I'm Jewish." Then it was a few lefty Jews, but I expect nothing more from their ilk. But then it was the all-so-sophisticated Orthodox intelligentsia, the feel-good-sensitive-non-Zionist MO and RWMO types, and finally, I am reduced to saying, "Christians."

Back to mopping.

Spring is bustin' out

Yes, we're rehearsing Carousel now.

But it *is* coming, by gum. The first day of Spring was last week, Daylight Time began this morning in Israel, it's the first day of April, tomorrow is Shabbat Mevorchim Nisan, etc. And the weather is finally getting warmer and glorious. I went to the Botanical Garden today for an art opening and enjoyed very much, but who has to go that far? Here's the view out our side window:
If you look closely, you may be able to see the bees.

Yesterday, I attended a shiur, and the speaker mentioned the famous story about the Beit HaLevi and the four cups of milk. It took me a few seconds to realize that the speaker (a Lichtenstein) was, in fact, a great-great-great grandson of the Beit HaLevi (and so many others). I've always wondered how British royals felt in history class when great-grandpa came up; here was a living example of that.

A man who knows what he wants

There's been this man standing in front of the Great Synagogue in Jerusalem since at least the mid-1990's (to my personal knowledge), soliciting alms. (He reminds me of Epictetus.) I doubt I've given him more than a few agorot these past fifteen or sixteen years. Yesterday being Purim, and having a few shekels from a friend to distribute besides, I finally gave him a nice amount. He immediately put his arm around me and asked for a thousand. :-) Happy post-Purim, all.

Adar

With (an early) Ta'anit Esther coming up tomorrow, and what with the horrific events of last Shabbat in the news, I had a memory of my junior year in college, Purim time 1996. This was the height of the Oslo madness and the Muslims, as they tend to do, sensed a weak horse and responded accordingly. (Like their Nazi predecessors and once allies, they also have a perverse way of picking just the "right" date on the Jewish calendar for their atrocities.) Five attacks (almost all within the "Green Line," but haters of all stripes are gonna hate) in less than ten days resulted in sixty deaths. Two on February 25; one on the 26th; one on March 3 (on the same bus line as the second attack), one on the 4th. The last was in Tel Aviv, on Ta'anit Esther itself. I recall that a bunch of the casualties were kids in costume.

Ah, how quickly we forget...

For that fast day's mincha, the entire school met in the main auditorium (not the usual practice). Rabbi Norman Lamm, then-president, spoke briefly about the inability to say anything appropriate when things like this happen, and how we, like all those generations before us, can just say Tehillim and let them speak to us. And so we did, before the tefilla itself. My school, Yeshiva University, like many Jewish institutions, has a major chagiga the night of Purim. (Remarkably, for all its spirit, there's no alcohol involved.) The student organizations who arrange it had a meeting and decided not to cancel. They did decide that there would be no band, and the band they'd hired agreed to back out and not even charge anything. Interestingly, I think it was the most energetic and joyous chagiga I'd ever seen at the school. I guess that's how a people like the Jews has to react. I just told this story to someone who was in Israel then, and I was told that's pretty much what happened here as well.

At the end of the chagiga, R' Mordechai Willig, one of the leading Roshei Yeshiva, took out his guitar, the first musical instrument of the night. He sat down, and we all sat on the floor around him, as he played slowly and meaningfully and we joined in singing. That's not something that leaves you. Here's looking forward, despite all, to a happy and healthy Purim.

It must be a good place...

We had to wait a bit for a table tonight, and so sat at the bar in the meantime. My companion noted that the two men sitting next to me were obviously bodyguards, so we started scanning the room for important-looking people. It was only as we walked to our table when I saw him: Avigdor Lieberman, the Foreign Minister, seated a few feet away with a small group, enjoying his dinner. Wow.

"As long as they don't make it compulsory."

That was the old line about tolerating gays. (Itself no longer an acceptable option.) Increasingly, it's beginning to look less and less funny. See this very troubling story- one is longer allowed to even deviate from the party line (whatever it is) without being beaten into submission. I still have my inch, I hope. (And yes, I realize the irony of that reference. The [supposedly] persecuted have, as might be expected in this case, become the persecutors.)

"And, although his methods may be difficult for environmentalists to accept..."

See, stuff like this is what (deservedly) gives enviro-whackos a bad name. It's hard me to accept that the phrasing in the title of this post is entirely tongue-in-cheek. "May be"? Excuse me? It's almost like they approve. See all those "Life After People" type shows and books for examples of their fantasies. (List at the bottom here.)

And then comes Momma Nature to remind us that what we do means diddly squat in the long run. :-) Maybe not this time, but there was once a very frightening illustration of this in National Geographic. (Although I'll admit I didn't quite see it right the first time, perhaps because of how they presented it.)

Meanwhile, the One doesn't really seem to care, which is here, as elsewhere, the main feature of his and both our salvation as well as the danger. (Of course, wouldncha know it's all the GOP's fault, as always.)

Apropos of nothing- or maybe so- I think the way someone responds to this story (I can think of two main possibilities) would tell you most of what you need to know about their views.

"Royale With Cheese."

The statistics here are actually encouraging. (The prices, not too much.) (H/T Gil.) It was just last night, at a shiur, that someone mentioned that combination of kosher meat and cheese at non-kosher Israeli McDonald's actually may make them worse than the equivalent outside of Israel. So here we see that cheeseburgers aren't even advertised and barely ever served, and that 70% of (secular?!) Israelis want kosher meat, and only 5% davka want non-kosher (whatever that means).

What's interesting that (most) Jerusalem locations aren't kosher. (In fact, it's the last non-kosher place on the eatery-heavy Emek Refaim.) I think that may be the tourist trade, though.

Not ideal, of course, but a very good sign, I think. One commenter on that article wonders if it's really about being open on Shabbat. Based on this, I wouldn't be surprised if that was a big factor.

“Make Mine a Courvoisier!”

OK, this story may well be what is technically called "untrue." But it's one of my favorite Kennedy stories nonetheless. (Come to think, that's two Kennedy stories in a row.)

The late Sargent Shriver is running for Vice-President alongside George McGovern, 1972. He walks into a bar full of working stiffs in Ohio and, perhaps coached by Tip O'Neill, accompanying him, says, "Beers on me!" Everyone cheers, but Shriver continues to the bartender, “Make Mine a Courvoisier!” At that point, it is said, O'Neill realizes the election is over and gets on a plane back to Massachusetts.

R.I.P.

Random musings

No wonder Cracked has been running pieces of late about how Islam ain't so bad after all. Another one bites the dust...it's still pretty good, though.

Well, a new Congress, and, in a historical note, the first time since 1947 that there hasn't been an elected Kennedy in Washington (or anywhere else, I think- even Arnold is gone). Wouldn't be so bad if it would stay that way.

Things That Make You Go "Hmmm!"

Yes, I know it's a complicated subject, and the speaker may have just been quoting others, and that this is his style, and that YU, to its great credit and benefit, is home to many different views and voices. But the rationalist in me cringed just a bit when I heard this line in a shiur- a very good shiur, don't get me wrong- on YUTorah:

...the commentators say that perhaps the source of the Rambam is the Zohar...

I'm thinking of Walter Sobchak for some reason:

...You see, it all goes back to the concept of "aish." Many learned men have disputed this over the centuries, but in the Fourteenth Century, the Rambam...he...

Later in the shiur, he says, when discussing the Hebron Yeshiva,

...unfortunately it was challenged by the riots of 1929...

Well, that's certainly one way of putting it. (Link not for the tender-hearted.) I always liked the way Meir Kahane put it in "Never Again". After describing the riots, he adds, parenthetically, "(The white flags came out quickly in Hebron in 1967.)"

Kerens

Not sure how funny this one is, but it made me smile. I'm about to cross Ramban Street at Kikar Paris (thanks for the jelly doughnut, Chabad of Rechavia!) when I hear to girls talking English next to me:

"I think we turn here."

"No, this is Ramban."

I'm about to offer help when one turns to me: "S'licha..."

Well, at least I can pass for an Israeli physically, at least to foreigners. In English: "Yes?"

"Where's Keren Kayemet?"

"Up that way, to the left," pointing behind us.

"Whoops! OK, I'm embarrassed."

They turn around and head up. I start wondering if, in fact, they wanted Keren HaYesod, which is in front of us. Sure enough, a few seconds later, they're back.

Me: "You're sure you didn't want Keren HaYesod?"

"OK, we're lost. She said it's by a bank...King George becomes it?"

"Yep, that's Keren HaYesod. Right ahead."

They thank me and head off. Too bad I didn't have a chance to tell them the ridiculous historical reason why there are two easily-confused streets so close to each other- it may have made them (and me) feel better. (In short, the Keren HaYesod [United Israel Appeal, in charge of foreign fundraising] was jealous that the Keren Kayemet [Jewish National Fund, in charge of land buying] had a street named after it, and by the building which they share. So they cut off the end of King George and named it after them. Or so the story goes.)

Apparently, someone left a stack of old sefarim on top of our shul's sheimot box yesterday. So one of the gabbaim told me, because by Mincha today, there were only two, a very old and cover-less standard folio size volume of Shulchan Aruch and a play of Shakespeare's. I told him it reminded me of the Cairo Geniza, where people apparently put anything written in Hebrew, thinking it was holy, and so we got (quite valuable, from a historical perspective) shopping lists and the like. (Of course, the Rav used this to criticize even halakhic works found there and elsewhere, but that's another story.)

Anyway, my bookshelf is now graced by an Israeli Hebrew translation of A Midsummer Night's Dream from the early 1940's. Nice. Perhaps one day it will stand next to my Klingon Hamlet.

The things you learn...

Yitz Greenberg and Meir Kahane were BTA classmates. Maybe nothing deep, but the article on the left side here is wild, considering. Keep flipping through (or go back a year) to read more interesting stuff. And giant kudos to YU for putting the whole archive up. Valuable in so many ways.

Ah-CHA-A!!

OK, here's another:

Waiting on line at a good Schwarma place on the Midrachov last night (before you start tsking, it was the first schwarma I had since Pesach time, and I think the first eating out I did in a long time), a religious couple, clearly from out of town, started asking about the hekhsher. (By this post, I by no means mean to belittle them- checking to make sure of such things is sadly neglected these days in the Land.) Sorry, but there'd be no real point to a translation here, so sorry for the rough transcription. Oh, and see if you can guess the source of the title above.

One of the countermen begins answering, "Rabbanut Hashgacha..."

The couple is insistent: "Rak haRabbanut?"

"Lo, Mehadrin Yerushalayim."

"Ma zeh 'Mehadrin'?"

"Mehadrin zeh...ha-ki tov, haelyon."

"Ken? Aifo haTeuda?"

The counterman begins looking around behind the counter, can't find it there, then realizes it's actually behind them, at the door. He points to it, the couple turns to read it. They're a bit satisfied. But then the man turns back.

"Aval ha'im zeh chalak? Aifo katuv she-ze chalak?"

A pause. The counterman ponders this. Then his face lights up.

"Ah! Avel ze hodu, ze lo basar!"

Another pause as it sinks in to the couple that despite common usage, there ain't no such thing as a glatt kosher turkey, and the counterman isn't so unlearned after all. Defeated- or, more likely, satisfied, they duly place their orders. And so do I. Yum.

By coincidence, a friend just emailed me a teshuva from Menashe haQoton (hey, it's what he calls himself) assur-ing all such foods. I promptly wrote back that I now feel pretty good that I unknowingly had some last night- if he says it's bad, it's a pretty good sign that the good Lord approves. (Ah, I had it phrased so nicely. Durn non-saved sent messages.)

By the way, I finally visited the Islamic Art Museum (see here) today. I'm not sure if I've posted this before- I first visited it in the mid-90's, and was especially impressed with their (non-Islamic) clock collection. Then last year, I discovered that half of the clocks had been stolen way back in 1983, and I was only seeing a part of the collection. They recovered almost all of them a few years ago, and...they are magnificent. Well worth a visit. The rest of the museum is pretty good as well.

French Accent

It's been a while since my last "street encounter" posting. So here's a new one, once again translated from the Hebrew for your (and my) convenience:

I'm walking down Jaffa Street minding my own business (coming back from this event) when a group of young folk stop me and ask if I can explain a "joke" for them. (The Hebrew word can have a few translations.) They show me a small card on which is written, in Hebrew, "Holyland [the English word written in Hebrew, which is a long story in and of itself involving bribery and an eyesore- don't ask] in Latin, with a French accent." This was apparently some sort of scavenger hunt, and they wanted to know where it was.

Me: "Um...sorry, I don't think I know. Sounds like the Old City. Sorry!"

They: "That's OK, no problem! Thanks!"

We walk on. I go a few meters, still mulling it over, when it suddenly pops into my head. I turn around and run up to them, calling for their attention.

Me: "Holyland in Latin is Terra Sancta! Terra Sancta is a monastery, on French Square, at the end of King George Street! Holy Land, Latin, French!"

They, giving me a blank look for a second: "French Square? You mean Paris Square?"

D'oh! I must be the only person in Israel who refers to it by its proper name. That would have been too easy. Me: "Paris Square, that's right."

They, after checking a map: "Yay!" General cheering and pumping of fists. I walk away with my usual post-street encounter huge grin.

You gotta love the way Shaffer (of National Review) reacts here (Paladino is running for governor of New York):

SHAFFER: Cuomo published an editorial in the New York Daily News acting like he will be a small-government, tough-on-unions type. Is that believable?

PALADINO: Ever been to the zoo?

SHAFFER: Yes.

PALADINO: Ever seen the zebra in the zoo?

SHAFFER: Yes.

PALADINO: Ever seen the zebra change stripes?

SHAFFER: No.

PALADINO: I’ve got the same feeling about Cuomo.

HYD

When the news report said the victim led groups to the Har HaBayit, my antenna went up. Then I saw his picture. Yep.

Not much more to say apart from the obvious.