Midnight Witticisms

Yesterday was a very long day. Not in a bad way, just in a long way. Matt and I hopped on a 9:30 sheirut to Jerusalem. Our first stop was to pick up some goods for tonight’s party. We dropped it off at my old apartment, said hi to Joel’s whiny cats, and sped off. Our next stop was to a copy store to get some of Matt’s stuff laminated (you do NOT want to lose any important paperwork in this country, the bureaucracy is a bitch), where some French guy was clearly talking French smack about us. Damn frogs. We hopped on down Ben Yehuda Street and dropped in at the eyeglass store, which also doubles as a DMV eye-check station. I got my eye exam and the first piece of paperwork (shocking, paperwork) so that I can commence the process of converting my driver’s license (PS - I heart driving and totally miss it).

We then continued to Steve’s Pack, because this addiction is contagious and Matt infected his mother with the “Steve’s Bug”. In beige. It really is lovely. So we dropped some cash there, and promptly left. Otherwise Matt would have started fondling a variety of things, and really, who wants to see a grown man fondle bags? We paused at the Kippa Man, where Matt went into the narrowest store in existence, picked up two gorgeous kippot, and we continued to the Old City.

We moseyed on over to the Kotel. I realized, too late, of course, that I was wearing a tank-top. This is indecent dress for the House of G-d, and I was a little upset that I forgot to bring a shawl with me. Luckily, because it is summer, there is a fashion patrol of sorts, and they give shawls to those wearing shorts, miniskirts, tank-tops, tube-tops…you get the picture. One of the things that I love about Judaism is the way we all look out for each other. In many ways it’s the whole “village to raise a child” mentality, and it’s nice to know that there will always be someone who will watch your back. I approached the Wall, bent my head in prayer, and for the first time in a long time, I felt complete faith. I thanked the Big Guy for all he had given me, and for once had nothing to ask but that He protect the ones that have touched me, even if merely in passing.

After our prayer sesh, we headed to the Arab Market. It was perfect timing on our part - just as we started in the muezzin could be heard over the loudspeakers scattered all over the market - Allahu Akbar - it was so moving. We stopped first at the Holy Sepulchure to light a candle for one of Matt’s friends. It’s one of my favorite places in this country. I love religions.

We picked up a b-e-a-u-tiful bracelet for me, and a Fulla doll for Matt’s mom. This Fulla doll wears a hijab and sings in Arabic. It’s cute and a little haunting all at the same time. What’s actually slightly more disturbing is the fact that it appears that the doll was taken out of the box, dressed in Muslim-friendly attire, and repacked. I’m not sure how I feel about the doll. I’m all for cultures promoting what they believe is right and true, but I’m really not pro sexual segregation. It’s tricky, to reconcile tradition and modernism, and I’m not sure I’ve quite struck the balance for myself. I don’t know that I ever will.

Next was the trek to my parents’ apartment.  There is one (1) bus that will get me from Jerusalem to my parents’ place, and that is the 177.  I told Matt (who, due to the heat) misunderstood, and thought that was the best one, and not the only one.  So, when the 171 showed up, and he said, “Is this one good?” I only half glanced (and, to be honest, with the way the sun hits the digital-ness, sometimes the 171 looks like 177 and vice-versa), and said, “Yes, yes, this is it.”  We climbed on, and got moving.  All of a sudden - i.e. fifteen minutes later - I realized we’re heading in the complete opposite direction.  We get off in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, cross the street, and wait at what appears to be a bus stop.  The stop at which we got off is right near a checkpoint, so, it turns out that this “bus stop” is actually where Arab detainees are held when pulled over by the (really hot) soldiers (who approached us, looked at us like we were SpEd, and informed us that, in fact, this was not a bus stop). We go to the actual bus stop, and wait for what seems to be an interminable amount of time.  Then, under a halo of heavenly light, a bus emerges.  Turns out, it was the “Superbus”, the actual name of the company. It’s a subset of public transportation that caters to the religious folks, where the men sit up front and the women sit in the back with all of the children.  It’s very Jim Crow-esque.  Of the three buses that passed us, only two stopped, and the (nonreligious) drivers were clearly hesitant to let a tattooed, pierced man and tank-top clad woman (who were clearly unmarried) board the bus.  He knew what would be coming to him.

Luckily, a saint of a man picked us up and drove us back to Jerusalem.  Although he was clearly very religious and I was dressed as a “whore”, he spoke to me as an equal, and never once asked if Matt and I were married.  Although, if he did, it wouldn’t have been the first time we were asked.  He pointed out everything as we passed, explained the neighborhoods to us, and then dropped us off with three sets of directions to get back to the bus station.

What should have been a 45 minute ordeal turned out to be a three hour excursion.  At least we made it to my parents’.  I can only imagine what would have happened had we got stranded where we got off the bus.  And by imagine I mean we would have had to walk to Jerusalem.

What a day!

I knew ass-kissing was the way to go.

Sometimes I wonder what this world is coming to.  Seriously?  Yea, any fifteen year-old will be a great dad.  Jeez.

A good friend left a comment to this post on Facebook.  I started to comment, but it was long, so I decided I would just make it a post.

I’m all for slowing down the vaccination schedule.  Some doctors say this is bad, unnecessary, foolish.  I don’t know enough to know if they are correct in that, but my sentiment is that as long as children receive their vaccinations before they pass around snot-ridden toys in pre-school.

My problem is that, there is no hard proof that these vaccines cause autism (in fact, there s no hard proof at what *does* cause autism, although several people with fancy letters after their names are postulating a point mutation on some mtDNA).  This, of course, does not in any way mean that nothing should be questioned.  But herd immunity is immensely important. It helps children with compromised immune systems, who cannot get vaccinated, or who will not be able to survive the flu.

Many diseases that *should* be eradicated by now are still running rampant, needlessly harming and killing people.  I’ve seen and worked with children with severe autism and spectrum.  I know that living with and parenting these children, to say the least, is no picnic.  I don’t have children, so I don’t know what it is like to want to protect them, but everything is a risk.  Perhaps it is worth the risk of vaccinating in order to help protect the larger community.

My personal opinion, though (with, admittedly, little actual information to back it up) is that since most children with autism start out “normal” and suddenly regress, perhaps it is merely the timing of the vaccinations that makes it seems as if there is some correlation.  It is also possible that children are born with a predisposition to autism, and the vaccines set something off.

Do we really need more proof? Really?

One of the blogs I enjoy reading (when I actually have time for them) is Ask Bossy.  Unlike Dear Abby, she deals with interesting, complicated issues, that have more than one answer.  Anyway, yesterday, she posted this.  To summarize, the poster is dating this girl of a different religion.  He wants to raise his kids within his religion, and while it seems unclear as to what his girlfriend wants, she doesn’t seem to be willing to raise them within her boyfriend’s religion.  They’ve tried breaking up on several occasions, to no avail.  He is at a loss of what to do.  Clearly, this struck a chord.

I read through a chunk of the comments, and was appalled at how nasty some people can be, the assumptions many of them can make.  For instance, many assumed he was Fundamentalist, that he had a problem with other religions.  More than a few claimed that he was selfish, manipulative, a religious nut, inflexible, and bigoted.  A large number railed against him for “cramming religion down his (future) children’s throats”.

Aside from the fact that many of these atheists/agnostics appear to be Fundamentalist (def: strict adherence to any set of basic ideas or principles) themselves, and hence slightly hypocritical, I have a problem with the last statement.  The process of parenting involves indoctrinating one’s children in the values they deem to be true with the hopes that when they mature and formulate their own opinions they will be identical to the ones they grew up with.

A parent, for example, will teach their children that drugs are wrong.  This, too, like religion, is an indoctrination.  Will a parent then be upset if once his child leaves home, and then starts shooting heroin?  Of course!  Not only is it against all that was taught, it is dangerous, and physically harming.  If a parent teaches her child to study hard and do all her homework, and then when she leaves for college she fails her first semester, the parent will also be upset - the child is hurting her odds at a good career and hence a good life.

It is the same with religion.  If a child turns away from the faith he or she was brought up with, a parent fears for his child’s soul.  A good parent will meddle if their child does drugs, and a good parent will get involved if their child “strays” from the religion in which they were indoctrinated.  Good parents will also know when it is time to let go, and allow their children to choose for themselves the life that they want.  Even if it means wasting away with cocaine, or converting to another religion.  For a devout person, these two are both harmful - one physically, the other spiritually.

A parent who chooses to raise her child within the confines of a particular religion (or within the realm of a non-religion, such as agnosticism or secular humanism), is no more cramming a concept down her child’s throat than a parent who makes his child study or eat his vegetables.  A child left to her own devices would never do her homework and would ice cream and cookies for dinner, resulting in bad grades and a bad stomach ache.  That is why they are children - they don’t understand how present actions have future consequences.  Until one day they do, and parents back off, and allow their children to do what they believe will be the best.

What bothered me most, I think, was the inordinate number of people riding the poor guy for refusing to raise children in a religion outside of his own.  I personally would not marry someone who wouldn’t let me raise our children Jewish, just as I wouldn’t marry someone who wouldn’t indoctrinate our children on the value of a good education.

And the vast number of people who called the poster bigoted are, in my opinion, the intolerant ones.

I am officially moved in. Matt ordered some extra furniture (which arrived today), we got our internet set up (a process that for whatever reason took a million hours), and I bought new pillows! I love new pillows.

It’s a thousand degrees with two hundred percent humidity here. One of those cities where the second you exit the shower you feel as if you need another one.

I treated myself to a wax.  It was amazing.  I plan on making this a monthly thing.

It’s wonderful to be so close to a beach.  There’s a sheirut (a mini-bus) that stops right in front of my flat, takes you down the center of Tel Aviv, and straight to the beach.  Even on Shabbat, when the buses here don’t run.

I managed to get the weirdest tan (aka burn)

I was watching Friends earlier today.  There is little I miss about the States, but they were eating big, floppy, NY pizza.  I pine for real pizza.  It’s really not that difficult; I don’t know why the ‘za here sucks.  I yearn…

I just bought the hottest red fuck-me pumps. They are sexy, and high-heeled. And they were only sixty shekels (aka really cheap). I’m totally in love. Shoes are definitely the best part of being a woman. Oh, that and multiple orgasms. Though, I often wish I could pee standing up. That would save so much time. And I’d never have to get all ish-ed out from hovering over public toilets.

But yea, shoes are a money pit. And I heart it.