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Back in June, I made my second big concert ticket purchase of the year, for the reunion tour of another of my favorite bands: Crowded House. At the time, I wasn't concerned with who my companion might be. I just knew that CH were coming to town and that, barring loss of life or limb, I was going to be in the audience.
I had hoped my sister would fly up from L.A. for the show (she's also a fan), but alas, she could not. My boyfriend Jason offered to join me, but his being mostly unfamiliar with their music, I didn't think he'd enjoy it all that much and let him off the hook.
A few days before Sunday's show, I posted an ad on Craigslist, attempting to sell my extra ticket to a fellow fan who might be, like me, going solo. I received an email from a woman named Jenny, who was in a similar predicament: she had two tickets, one of which she had intended for a friend and fan. When the friend had to cancel, Jenny's husband offered to go along, though not entirely enthused to see the band.
Jenny and I emailed back and forth a bit and we decided I would attempt to sell both of my tickets and then buy Jenny's extra one, as her seats were far better than mine (Orchestra Row N vs. Balcony Row J).
Photo courtesy of JenTwo, whom we also met at the show
Long story short, our little plan worked brilliantly--I sold my two tickets to a lovely couple through Craigslist and was then free to sit with Jenny a mere 14 rows from the stage at the gorgeous Paramount Theatre. It could not have worked out better if we'd sold our souls to Satan.
But the most excellent part of this little yarn is that Jenny and I hit it off beautifully--it turns out we have a shitload of interesting things in common and we ended up having something akin to a fantastic first date. You know that great-date feeling of actually being disappointed when the lights dim in the cinema because you want to keep talking? Well, there you go!
So, not only did I have the pleasure of seeing one of my favorite bands playing superbly in a beautiful venue, I also had the good fortune of enjoying them alongside someone equally touched by and appreciative of their music. The added bonus is I now have a lovely new friend. For this, I thank you, Craigslist.
Tel Aviv Sunset
I had to agree wholeheartedly with my cousin Arik, who told me during our travels together that he wished he'd had the foresight to buy stock in Crocs years ago. For those of you who haven't been introduced to the astonishing array of colorfully ugly shoes these guys manufacture, they look like this
and are supposedly more comfortable than strapping goose-down pillows to the soles of your feet and walking across clouds to your destination.
And they are everywhere in Israel. Kids wear 'em. Adults wear 'em. Grannies wear 'em. Bus drivers, restaurant servers, dog walkers, nurses, even orthodox Jews in black wool coats and hats--they all sport the ubiquitous Croc as though their government offers tax breaks to the family with the most pairs. It's an epidemic. In fact, I felt a bit left out, being the only soul on Israeli soil without a pair of Crocs.
Jerusalem
Next, Israelis may be world leaders in technology, science, military might and creamy, delicious hummus, but no one has ever taught them how to line up. No matter where I went, if a line required forming, Israelis failed the test. People just sort of gather around and it's anyone's guess as to whose turn it is next. This was especially obvious on buses and trains--in Israel, exiting row by row is a concept so advanced it has yet to be implemented. You just shove your way into the line of people in the aisle whenever you see the tiniest gap open up. Otherwise, you're last off the train, even if you were seated in the first row.
Sea of Galilee
Before anyone goes charging me with being an anti-Semite, I'm not limiting my observations solely to Israelis, since I am sure I was in the company of many other nationalities and ethnic groups throughout my journey. But let me just say that, despite whatever negative characteristics Americans may carry around their necks (in my own mind and around the world), we are actually, on the whole, a pretty polite bunch. On the contrary, Israelis rarely say "Excuse me," "Pardon me" or "I'm sorry" when engaging in such activities as accidentally bumping into people on a sidewalk, stepping on people's toes, elbowing people in the ribs or other endeavors requiring one to share space with strangers in a civilized fashion.
More to come...
Me in Jerusalem, August 2007
More photos from my trip to Israel can be found here.
I am thrilled to be back on American soil and plan to write about some of my observations from the trip at a later date. Meanwhile, enjoy your weekend, everyone!
Greetings from Israel, otherwise known the hottest place on Earth. (Well, maybe. If you don't count Death Valley. Or a Manhattan subway station three levels below ground at 2:00 on an August afternoon.)
I am in an internet cafe in Tel-Aviv, trying to beat the heat after thinking I could wander around town all day without the benefit of an air-conditioning unit strapped to my chest.
It is very beautiful here and I've enjoyed my travels immensely, especially seeing the dozens of fun relatives I have here, most of whom I have not seen since before I hit puberty. Luckily, I look so much like my mother that just about everyone recognized me straight away, most of them exclaiming "Bat shel Sonia!" (meaning "Sonia's daughter!") the minute they saw me.
Over the past 9 days, I have criss-crossed the country, stopping in Jerusalem, Tel-Aviv, Tiberias, Caesarea and Eilat. I have swam in both the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, contemplated life at the Wailing Wall, toured the narrow streets of the Old City of Jerusalem, soaked in the overwhelming Holocaust Museum (Yad Vashem), enjoyed the Tel-Aviv Museum of Art and the Museum of the Jewish Diaspora at Tel-Aviv University. From dusty tour-bus windows, I gazed up at Masada, watched people float in the Dead Sea and saw parts of the West Bank I would not otherwise have explored.
The best part has been seeing and beoming reacquainted with dozens of family members, both old and new (spouses, kids, babies). And, of course, the food--Israel has some of the most unbelievable produce, including dreamy cucumbers, tomatoes and peppers, plus grapes and melon that melt in your mouth.
And let me rave a minute about the delicious hummus, tehina, felafel and hatzlakhim (eggplant salsa-like stuff) I've had. We're talking yummy overload. Delicious as it's been, I do miss sushi--haven't tried any here, as I'm told it's not great (though I've had some delicious fish).
My cousins and I have compiled all of our photos onto one cousin's laptop, so there will be many photos to share once I return. As with the best of vacations, I have enjoyed the trip very much and am looking forward to returning home to my life, my loving boyfriend and my kitties (whom, as Jason reports, spent the entire first week of my absence sulking). In my next report, I will share some observations of life here, as compared to that in the States.
Being a Jew, I cannot help but feel changed by having visited Israel, seeing the small northern town my grandfather founded, riding along streets where my father rode his bicycle as a child, feeling the power of Jerusalem, hearing and speaking Hebrew (better than I did 10 days ago, I might add).
Israel is a mystical place for Jews, particularly for those, like me, whose family are Holocaust survivors with deep roots here but who are now part of the diaspora. I am very glad to have finally made the trip and I expect to feel its effects for a long time to come.