J-E-T-S

JETS! JETS! JETS! First game of the season tonight against the Ravens...We'll be watching it starting at 1 AM Jerusalem time on Ben Yehuda....Determination and Domination baby!

Saving the World, One Push at a Time

Ahh, the small things in life. The following is a story, a parable really, of something so insignificant, yet so powerful. Well, at the very least it was a fun way to start off the day. Enjoy with open hearts and open minds:

They stumbled out of bed this morning. On this day, the proud men of Derech Chevron Shalosh were expecting nothing out of the ordinary. But when they walked out of their apartment to embark upon the five-minute stroll to the Beit Ar-El campus, an opportunity to partake in Tikkun Olam awaited the self-proclaimed burly boys.

Jovial and over-tired, as is the norm during morning walks to first period class, the boys were suddenly summoned by the driver of a burnt-umber original Mini Cooper, something straight out of an oddball British comedy flick. 

“Push me!” the driver yelled in Hebrew at the boys, who exchanged puzzled glances. The driver repeated his message, this time in English. 

So, without a second thought, the boys jumped into the morning traffic of Jerusalem and began pushing the car up a hill. With a collective huff followed by the inevitable collective puff, the boys pushed with al their strength and up the hill the car slowly rolled! But alas, the boys ran into an obstacle. They had reached the top of the hill, and it was time for the Mini to take a right onto a main road. The boys stopped, unsure how to proceed, yet painfully aware of the fact that the precious seconds they had to get to class on time were ticking away. 

Should they abandon the project, a hero’s job left unfinished? Or, should they make the ultimate sacrifice of showing up a few minutes late, and wait until the light turned green so that we could push the Mini to safety? They decided on the latter, and with one final thrust, the car reached an oasis of flatlands, and the boys were able to continue on their merry way, with the warm feeling of helping others overwhelming their bodies.

The boys feel they are now ready to take on the world, to help both physically and emotionally, as the beacon of ultimate righteousness shines bright. 

Weddding Crashers, Yeshiva Style

Invitations in Israel mean something different than in America. In America, when you say, “Hey close friend with whom I enjoy hypothesizing on unrealistic activities, care to go to a wedding we heard about from a man we met ten minutes ago?” presumably the question is met with a chuckle. But in Israel, such a suggestion quickly becomes a reality.

Lo and behold, on our third day of existence here in the Holy Land, after a brief first class with our Kabbalah teacher, we were informed that he was attending a wedding of a Yeshiva Bachur, and that if we were interested, we could show up for the wedding just outside the Old City later that evening. Some in the class did as Americans too frequently do, laughing off the suggestion as they planned another night of drunken jubilation on Ben Yehudah. However, several friends and myself opted for an “Inebriation Celebration,” as Sam coined the evening. Indeed, with our open minds and the wedding’s open bar, we were in for a wild night.

We got to the wedding in the middle of the Sheva Brachos, as a sea of black hats surrounded the bride and groom. After a few minutes, the couple-to-be spent some time in Yichud, which enabled the bevy of Yeshiva bros to daven Maariv. As we waited for the couple to return and the party to begin, the band began to pump the crowd up, pumping out a few nifty tunes. The numerous sodas and other excitable beverages were consumed faster and faster, and then finally, with everyone itching to let their boogy loose, the groom returned, and a banging party ensued. I, along with three other Year Course males, quickly were pulled into the thick of the dancing, where we screamed and sang and sweated along with a hundred other Jewish men of varying ages and dancing abilities. Things got even wilder still, as someone whipped out a yellow sheet. Befuddled, I took a step back before I realized what the sheet was for. A bunch of men grabbed the edges as the groom was thrown onto the middle of the sheet. I had seen my fair share of chair lifts at Bar-Mitzvahs, but these Yeshiva types know how to party. They threw the groom up as his face lit up with joy. I gasped as he came down safely onto the sheet, but then whoosh! Back up he went.

Suddenly, it was time for line dancing, and as the Year Coursers formed a line in what would soon turn into a type of dance-off, we realized we would be taking on the groom and his most beloved friends and family. We began to dance and I chest bumped the groom before receding to my intial location. But then we did it again and again, until I was running full speed into the man whose name I still not know but whose wedding I will remember forever.

I had thought the chest bump was pretty cool, like something straight out of Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn’s classic flick, Wedding Crashers. But when we met up with the Year Course girls who came, we found out the dancing on the girls side yielder even more dramatic, perhaps hilarious results. One of our friends had been summoned to perform in some type of ceremony to enteratin the bride, and in doing so was quickly added to the ranks of closest friend to the bride. Our friend from Year Course has gone down in the annals of that family’s history, as she posed in pictures with the bride’s maids and even got a few right next to the newly married woman.

A wild, wonderful, wondrous night, that we hope will be the first of many.

That Ain't Right...

My previous post discussed the grandeur of Omri Casspi’s return to Israel. Well, as it turns out, he returned just in time, as some idiot in Sacremento—the town where Casspi plays professionally, drew a swastika over a mural of Casspi. Check out the article here.