White water balloons
It may see strange – and it is strange – but one of the many options for purchasing fresh milk in Israel is in plastic bags. Sure, you can get the paper or plastic cartons in quarts, half gallons, etc. that you can in the States or anywhere else.
But many people – us included – continue to buy these white water balloons. For one thing, it’s considerably cheaper – especially if you have lots of cereal eaters in your house. And secondly, many years ago we bought a green, plastic container that you shove the bag into, and there’s not much alternative use for it besides serving as a ugly flower pot.
So we’ve continued to stock up on our milk bags, never knowing if one would strike a leak on the way home after being stacked under the laundry detergent. Or waking up in the morning, and finding the fridge bin coated with a layer of white. That is until last week!
That’s when I noticed – anyway – that bags of Tnuva milk in the local grocer was boasting thicker material. I even conducted a test when I got home, but taking one of the bags and dropping it from about knee level onto the floor.
With the thin-skinned bags, odds were an explosion of white. But, now the bag just bounced and bobbled a couple times before landing peacefully on the kitchen floor.
So go ahead, take the challenge, go back to bags of milk – they’re safe now.
As for me, I’m rushing out to buy stock in that kibbutz company that manufactures those ugly green containers.
Reality TV
Nothing like a sick day to catch up on TV watching.
When I first moved to Israel in the mid-80s, there was only one channel and a dearth of American programming. We’d wait all week for that lone episode of LA Law. In fact, we had to tune into Jordan’s English-language station in order to watch B-grade made-for-TV movies, and an occasional classic like The Graduate.
Thankfully, those days are gone. I’m not even talking about all the TiVo equivalents available here that enable you to program your own station. Just the basic cable packing from the Golden Channels had me warm and fuzzy, as I was able to reconnect with reruns of some of my favorite guilty pleasures of the last few years.
Before the kids started coming home from school, I managed to view episodes of Boston Public, the Gilmore Girls and Chicago Hope (from the Christine Lahti years).
Then, being a music freak, I always tune into VH1 a few times to see what’s showing. Israel provides the European version of VH1 which is infinitely inferior to the American edition. However, the one saving grace is the abundance of old video clips they run from London’s The Beat Club – recorded mostly in the 60s and 70s.
I caught a quaint lip-synced version of Manfred Mann’s “The Mighty Quinn” and a hilarious 1979 clip of Supertramp singing that jaunty song that starts “Take a Look at my girlfriend..” (It’s perplexing how any of them had girlfriends to sing about – as they epitomized the unwashed, hippie ethic that was quickly headed to extinction thanks to the spewing bile of The Sex Pistols and The Clash.)
The afternoon and early evening saw a couple reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond and King Of Queens, and by then, the combination of the flu and too much TV had turned my brain to mush.
But I couldn’t resist flipping through the three different nightly news programs to hear about the referendum bill failing and the plans for disengagement going full steam ahead. Nothing like a reality show to bring a sick boy back to life.
The Grinch who stole Purim
Kids in Israel look forward to Purim the whole year. It’s Mardi Gras, Carnival, and Halloween rolled into one, and teenagers have as much fun as first graders.
My two teenage daughters (16 and 13) had big plans this year. Both their schools were having big masquerade parties today (the last day of school before a four-day vacation). Then tonight, they were going to an all-night gathering of their youth group – where the oldest is a counselor and the youngest a member. These good clean fun events are for some reason called in Hebrew – layla lavan ‘white night’.
Perhaps it’s because with the light of day, they then head off for an organized day long jaunt from Jerusalem to the North, returning late at night, making for a 24 hour fun-filled event.
But just like the twists and turns of the Megilla which is read on Purim, the girls’ plans took an unexpected detour when, yesterday morning, they both woke up with sore throats and fevers.
A quick trip to the doctor confirmed a bacterial infection (strep throat) and a heavy duty dose of antibiotics. So now, their Purim is a stay home, dress down day.
On my way home tonight, I’ll buy them chocolate oznai haman -hamentashen – (that thank God they started to make in other flavors besides poppy a few years ago), and I’ll stop off to buy a scary mask at one of the dozens of outdoor kiosks selling Purim paraphernalia, and surprise them when I get home.
After all, just because the Grinch stole their Purim, it doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t steal it right back.
A jolt of Zionism
If you want to feel good about Israel – whether you live here or not – you might want to check out the new lavish, coffee table book ISRAEL IN THE WORLD – Changing Lives Through Innovation.
Edited by the British husband and wife team of Douglas and Helen Davis, the book is an outstanding and convincing testament to Israel’s accomplishments since its inception.
And we’re not talking about falafel and the hora here.
We’re talking the same subject matter that you’ll find on ISRAEL21c – Israel’s role in leading technological, scientific, medical and social developments that have spread around the world. In fact many of the lushly illustrated essays are based on stories originally found on 21c.
As Rupert Murdoch writes in the intro, the book is a “testimony to the Israelis’ incredible originality, dynamism and entrepreneurship.”
Whenever you start to get discouraged about the crooked banks, the carnage on the roads, and the cost of a cup of coffee, flip to any page in the book, and get your Zionism revitalized.
An Israeli touchdown
I attended the re-dedication last night of the Kraft Family football field in Jerusalem – the home of the American Football in Israel league.
It reminded me of those days long ago, drinking beer in brown paper bags under the grandstands of the bleachers, while the Portland Bulldogs were out on the field smashing their opponents. But this was different – it was still football, but it was in the Holyland. And now that I’m well over 18, I could drink the beer without hiding it in a bag.
It was a kick seeing Robert Kraft – the owner of the New England Patriots (thus the Maine Patriots) – tossing a pigskin with Bibi Netanyahu. Ever try to throw a football in a suit and tie? They both looked really comfortable.
It was also neat seeing all these cute dati girls from places like Efrat and Har Nof going for down and outs, and blitzing the quarterback. The guys were another story, and their general testosterone level and bulkiness reminded me why I was more of a softball kind of guy.
The new synthetic grass was indeed amazing, the lights rock concert bright, and the atmosphere genuinely excitable. There were even a bunch of native Israelis there from Tel Aviv – who play in an ad hoc tackle league trying to convince Kraft to finance a new league. He demonstrated why he’s made millions, by turning them over to league president Steve Leibowitz and telling him to deal with it.
If you’re a former American living in Israel, and have a hankering to visit the Old country without having to hop on a plane and spend a ton of money, a quick fix is available at the Kraft Stadium. Now, if they would only build some bleachers.











