A New Temporary Shelter

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We have officially found ourselves a new home, and that is Congregation Shema Yisrael. After the insanity of the past week or so, we do have this bright point in our spectrum. It is a multi-denominational shul, so I guess in English what that means is that we have a home that is much like Abraham Aveinu's tent, open on all sides.

I like that.

Life is too short, and there are too many mitzvot to perform, people to care about, and study to do to allow silly things to get in the way. If some groups want to paint themselves into a corner and try to exclude as many Jews as possible from getting into, or being in their "club", then so be it. We prefer people. We have everybody here, it seems. Orthodox, chassidic, Conservative, Reform, Renewal, Reconstructionist, it appears that everyone is represented.

The people here are wonderful, and we hope to add to that, to help build a welcoming atmosphere that continues to be possible well into the future. They have some very good plans of what they want to do. I was also honored to be allowed to sit in on the latest board meeting, and I can tell you this, these folks have the whole point right, and they are looking into a direction of tikkun olam that I honestly believe Hashem will make flourish.

Yes, we are still making aliyah.

The timeframe is still similar, if not the same.

But we have a point, no time will be wasted here, and it appears to be a very wonderful path that we are on, and the companions are top class. What more could you ask for?

More about that will be discussed on my other blog, Journeying Yid, as this remains the story of our path to home, our Journey to Eretz Yisrael and what shall be laid out for us there.

Nefesh B'Nefesh has actually blessed us in a great way. Perhaps we were asleep, and simply figured that the fix to our problem was just to go back home. But there is time before this happens, and much like the rabbinical refutations given a potential convert, our own "take a moment to think" moment with NBN led us on a more concrete search for community, for a more intimate inclusion with fellow Jews that will also affect where we potentially live in Israel.

Since my last post, I have also made another new friend, Rabbi Lazer Brody. His input has also assisted to meld our opinion on where we sit in the aliyah process, and what must be done.

Hashem has laid this all out in this manner for a very good reason, and even when it appears to immediately fly in the face of logic, time and again we find that things are exactly the way they should be, with the appropriate path rising in front of us.

While another goal has came to light once again, which I will delve into in the aforementioned blog, we see the good in what seems at some points inconvenient or counter. I should also take this point to explain that our lives in the past few weeks have been in an uproar. I owe someone some books I promised, and it is about like the box of salt that took me two weeks to finally pick up. I see it, I think, "I'm supposed to do that today" then I come home and have a "d'oh!" moment.

I promise, they are headed your way.

For now, NBN has some wonderful webinars, and we are going to begin watching them and getting our ducks in a row, both here in our congregation and helping them grow and as a unit build vitality and community, as well as hopefully, G-d willing, carrying that light over to Eretz Yisrael.

P.S. - Ira- Six Degrees time. One of our rabbis is Jeffery Salkin. He is also a classmate of my  rabbi from Anchorage. :) Woo-hoo!

Nefesh B'Nefesh, Swing and a Miss...

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So, we had our first meeting with our friendly Nefesh B'Nefesh representative. When we got to the shul where the meetings were being held, we had to call a number in order to gain entrance, and finally found the room in which the interviews were being held.

But before I go any further, I have a story for you in order to properly set the stage for our experience:

In the mid-16th century, a Marrano Jew from Portugal moved to the holy city of Sefad. Deprived of the opportunity to do so in his youth, he was overjoyed to finally be able to practice the religion of his ancestors openly.

Years later, he heard a talk by the rabbi of the synagogue he attended about lechem hapanim, the "show-bread" which was offered in the Holy Temple each Friday before Shabbat (see Leviticus 24:5-9). After discussing the various laws and procedures governing the preparation of this offering and touching on its mystical significance, the rabbi bemoaned the fact that, because of our sins, we no longer had this ready means to propitiate G-d.

The Jew took these words to heart. When he arrived home, he asked his wife to prepare two special challahs on Friday. He related to her all the details he remembered from the lecture on show-bread. She should sift the flour thirteen times, knead it while she was in a state of ritual purity, and bake the dough very well in their oven. He told her that he wished to present these loaves as an offering to G-d; hopefully He would consider them an acceptable sacrifice, and eat them.

His wife loyally fulfilled his request, and early that Friday afternoon, when no one was likely to be in the shul, the man brought the loaves there under his cloak. He prayed and cried that G-d should look upon his offering with favor, and eat and enjoy the lovely, freshly baked bread. He went on and on, like an errant son begging his father for forgiveness. Then he placed the loaves, wrapped, in the Holy Ark, beneath the Torah scrolls, and quickly left for home.

The shammash (caretaker) of the shul arrived later that day to complete the preparations of the shul for the holy Shabbat. One of his duties was to check that the Torah scroll was rolled to the proper place for the reading the next morning. When he opened the Ark, he was surprised to see that a package had been neatly placed inside. He opened it, and there were two fine-looking challah loaves! He had no idea where they had come from, but he didn't think too much about it; he simply decided to take them home and eat them -- after all, they looked and smelled delicious!

And they were delicious. The caretaker was delighted with this unexpected fringe benefit of his job.

That evening, the Marrano waited impatiently for the end of the prayers. When everyone had left the shul, he approached the Ark in great trepidation, and swung open its doors. The loaves were not there! He was so happy. He hurried home to share his joy with his wife. He innocently proclaimed that G-d had not disdained the poor efforts of such insignificant people as themselves. Indeed, He had accepted their two loaves, and eaten them while they were still warm!

Therefore, he exhorted her, let us not be lazy, for we have no other way to honor Him, and we see that He loves our bread. Every week we must try to give Him this pleasure, with the same care and devotion that we did this first time.

His wife was swayed by his wholehearted excitement, and gladly cooperated. Every Friday morning she faithfully prepared two beautiful loaves, paying careful attention to every detail, great and small, and every Friday afternoon he delivered them to the shul, and earnestly prayed and pleaded with G-d for their acceptance.

And every Friday the caretaker would come along and happily eat the delicious challahs, and every Friday night the Jew from Portugal ecstatically informed his wife that once again their meager offering had been accepted.

So it went, for many weeks and months.

One Friday, the rabbi of the shul stayed much later than usual, until the afternoon. It was the same rabbi who had given the speech about "show-bread" that had so inspired the Marrano from Portugal. He was standing on the bimah (reading platform), reviewing the sermon he planned to give the next day, when, to his surprise, he saw one of his congregants enter carrying two loaves of bread, walk up to the Ark, and deposit them inside. He realized that the man was unaware of his presence, and he heard him utter fervent prayers for G-d to accept his offering and enjoy the challahs.

The rabbi listened in astonishment. At first he was silent, but as he began to understand what was going on, his anger rose. Finally he was unable to restrain himself any longer, and burst out in fury: "Stop! You fool! How can you think that our G-d eats and drinks? It is a terrible sin to ascribe human or any physical qualities to G-d Almighty. You actually believe it is the L-rd who takes your measly loaves? Why, it is probably the shammash who eats them."

At that moment the caretaker entered the shul, blithely expecting to pick up his challahs, as usual. He was a bit startled to see the rabbi and another man standing there. The Rabbi immediately confronted him. "Tell this man why you came here now, and who has been taking the two challahs he has been bringing each week."

The caretaker freely admitted it. He wasn't embarrassed at all. He couldn't understand why the rabbi was so agitated, and why he was yelling at the other man who looked so unhappy, whom he knew to be an unlearned but sincere Jew.

As the rabbi continued his rebuke, the man burst into tears. He was crushed. Not only had he not done a mitzvah as he had thought, it seemed he was guilty of a great sin. He apologized to the rabbi for having misunderstood his lesson about the show-bread, and begged him to forgive him. He left the shul in shame and despair. How could he have been so wrong? What was he to do now?

Shortly thereafter, a messenger from the "Holy Ari" Rabbi Isaac Luria strode into the shul and approached the rabbi. In the name of his master, he told the Rabbi to go home, say goodbye to his family, and prepare himself; because by the designated time for his sermon the next morning, his soul will have already departed to its eternal rest. Thus it had been announced from Heaven.

The rabbi couldn't believe what he had just heard, nor could the disciple explain it to him. So the rabbi went directly to the Ari, who confirmed the message and added, as gently as possible: "I heard that it is because you halted G-d's pleasure, the likes of which He hasn't enjoyed since the day the Holy Temple was destroyed. That is what He felt when this innocent Marrano would bring his two precious loaves to your shul each week, faithfully offering them to G-d from the depths of his heart with joy and awe, and believing that G-d had taken them, until you irrevocably destroyed his innocence. For this the degree was sealed against you, and there is no possibility to change it."

The rabbi went home and told his family all that had transpired. By the time of the sermon the next morning, his soul had already departed to hear Torah in the Heavenly academy, exactly as the Ari had said.

My english name has always been a source of contention because it is so "goyish". I have a difficult time getting rabbis to call me back. Jewish organizations tend to ignore me. Let me correct that. If I am trying to make a fiduciary donation, I have no issue getting a response. If I want further discussion on halacha or help with observance, forget it.

As I mentioned, I consider myself a chassid of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. I have not, however, been able to get a chabad shliach on the phone. Ever. They ask my name, I give my name, and the conversation's over.

When I wanted to negotiate for tefillin in 2006 to become more observant, no call back. But I received a nice letter thanking me for my donation to that same center. So much for the Mitzvah Tank.

Chabad at 770, totally different matter. They do not hesitate to take my letters to the Rebbe. They have checked to see how we were doing, everything I would expect from the Rebbe himself. But by then, Hashem had already provided for the tefillin, and I wear them for Shacharit.

So the representative we met first seemed annoyed that we were not leaving this year, and then proceeded to try to find every way to discount my wife's Judaism. She appeared to want to deny mine as well, and seemed a bit miffed that I had a document signed by a Beit Din. She also was visibly irritated that we consider ourselves chabadniks.

I explained that we are unaffiliated. That didn't go over well, either.

My wife is Jewish, by blood. She tried explaining that her distant maternal line came from Jever, Germany, and had to change their name. The actual quote was, "Any anti-Semite can prove they have Jewish blood."

It was supposed to be 45 minutes of information on planning our Aliyah. What we got was 35 minutes (yes, she was actually watching the clock to get rid of us) of an inquisition on why we aren't Jewish, and allusions to why we would not be able to make aliyah.

We told her it was not a matter of "if", but a matter of "when". Our enthusiasm was not shared, and we are still uncertain why.

Very surprised, to say the least.

Can someone please explain to me why we are so intent as a people to cut the legs out from under each other?

Perfect example follows. We leave the synagogue confused as to what just happened, when an older gentleman pulls up. He is visibly crying, and he has asked the shul for someone that speaks Russian. I speak a little Russian, but the synagogue basically blew him off without even attempting to help.

He needs a rabbi or a synagogue where someone speaks Russian, so I call chabad. Anyone who knows anything about Lubavitcher history understands why I would call Chabad. I get a lady on the phone. She says nobody is there to speak with him and tries to shoo me off. (Like they did when I inquired about mezuzot for our home). She says a rabbi will call. She wants my last name, but I know if I give them that, he'll never call back.

I still don't know what is up with the old man, but I think, "What would the Rebbe do? How would he handle this?" Then I remember that right down the street from where we are is a judaica shop that has Eastern Europeans in it. So I lead the old man there, and I go inside and let them know that the old fellow is looking for someone that speaks Russian, he's upset, and do they know anyone?

Finally, a little ahavat Yisroel. The proprietor takes him two doors down to a Russian lady, and I am on my way.

Why is it that two synagogues gave less of a crap about the state and welfare of a fellow Jew than a few individuals? I'm really, genuinely asking this, not trying slam anyone. Is it an American Judaism thing? The theme appears to be that of a cultural club. If you don't fit the mold they want you to fit, then off with you. I don't seem to have this issue anytime my Hebrew name is used.

I have heard this complaint in areas with poor Jews, or those disenfranchised by distance. We have not located a synagogue to attend because we complied with no driving on Shabbat, and we have trouble getting responses out of synagogues in the "big city".

Non-Jews have zero difficulty identifying me or my wife as Orthodox Jews on sight.  Only other Jews want to argue about it. And I'm not counting my Israeli friends in this, it truly appears to be the Borsht Belt thing.

However, we located a new synagogue that seems to fit our bill. I know that when I was looking for a shul to attend a few months ago, this one was not listed. It's new. It is based around ahavat Yisroel. It believes, as I do, a Jew is a Jew is a Jew. It does appear that we will now have to drive on Shabbat, but since we have a few years until Aliyah, it should be the kind of place that we have wanted to attend.

Except we aren't going to ask anymore. We're just going to go there. And they will have to put up with my kids.

Bottom line, I forgive the representative for her treatment, her misguided assumptions, her refusal to take us seriously in any way.

We got a few things from this, and I suspect our trip might not have been to meet her at all, but to help some elderly Russian Jew and find a new congregation.

I anticipate a very different reaction the next time we deal with Nefesh B'Nefesh. There will be nothing for them to doubt. Until then, some folks need to realize that some Jews have goy names, and might not enjoy that fact. To dismiss them and treat them as substandard falls under the negative commandment "do not oppress the stranger (Ger)".

Even with the minuses, I think today will end up in the plus column. And we got some direction, even if indirectly.

On The Diving Board

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First off, to answer a question:

What is the voltage in Israel?


Voltage: 230 V; Plugs H & C. You will need a voltage converter, and plug adapter in order to use U.S. appliances. We recommend getting a universal adapter and converter kit.


So that's one question off of the list.

We have our first meeting with Nefesh B'Nefesh tomorrow morning at 10am. Sure, I'm a bit apprehensive, who wouldn't be? We are making a big decision here, even though we are certain that we are doing the right thing, and we are excited about it, you still have that first part of the plunge where your face hits the cool swimming pool water at about 40 miles an hour.

This is pretty much that part.

It's where everything starts, though, and without it, we can't really get there from here. We have already begun some of the cleaning and sorting of the house already, even though we won't be actually going to stay for another 2 years. (Unless things go really south, in which in might very well be next year, after all).

We are already also working on getting finances and such in order to help us with our prepwork. Then there is the whole learning Hebrew thing. I have started working with my software at work, translating it into Hebrew. Hopefully, (and the prospects are good) I will continue working with this and hopefully my current company once we make Aliyah.

It would certainly be beneficial for both of us.

But at the moment, it's time to officially kick all of this off and get the ball rolling.

I'll let you know about the meeting tomorrow. Right now, I have to go make a tooth disappear.

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• 'I was born here' (news.bbc.co.uk)

Wherever Shall We Go?

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At the moment, all that we know is that we are moving to Israel. We are making Aliyah. We originally thought 2013, and that seemed to be the plan, but it appears that we may be moving that date up a year to 2012. Between the recruitment posters here in the US for "internment specialists" and the basic political ribaldry we've seen from our president, coupled with various other familial factors, the longing for home is getting stronger and much more pertinent.

Now comes the question... Where are we going?

We really don't know. Somewhere around Tel Aviv is the hope, as while we at least attempt to be Orthodox, I work in the technology sector, and our outside viewpoints run liberal to secular.

For example, part of the draw to come home is the ability to pray Shacharit, Minchah, and Ma'ariv without stepping on an employer's toes, like here in America. I manage to sneak Shacharit in with my tefillin, and all seems to be well. But I must work during Minchah, and by Ma'ariv, I'm making dinner and fighting with children while my wife tries to get a breath in.

We could finally attend a shul. The closest one here is about 20 miles, and I'm not driving.

We would finally have a proper Jewish community, and actually know someone else that is Jewish. Here, we're on our own. We want to keep shomer kashrut, but given how far we are from kosher meat, time and price constraints, we end up with "That's a cow. I'll have to kasher it and eat it anyway..." or "Any pig with that? Can't eat it." and "No. You may NOT have a cheeseburger!"

Let me explain that last one. We have children coming from a secular upbringing (I won't go into details) and are moving to a more frum, beneficial lifestyle. We also have a developmental issue or two (I will hold out on that for the moment as well) to mesh through, so they have a bit of difficulty understanding what the big deal is between cow, American cheese, and big red wig-wearing clowns.

We need to have beach accessibility to help make my wife happier, as well as all of us, really. We're not really the settler type, not haredi either. Yerushalayim is a nice place to visit, but we aren't looking to live there.

This will be our home for the rest of our lives. That is at least the intention. I will eventually get over the fact that I like the "Jewish Jordan" and the Haifa Heat, and end up cheering for Tel Aviv, or wherever we end up.

We will still be hockey fans. I don't think that can change.

But those of you in the know, help us. Throw us a bone, here. Where is a place that we can be observant, but still not have an uprising if the neighbors are gay?

I ask that question in particular because we, while wishing to adhere to a more Orthodox lifestyle, also realize the realities of life and culture both here and what we have heard from Israel thus far. Perhaps the word "metropolitan" comes to mind.

We adhere more closely to Chabad, consider ourselves chabadniks, even if on the fringe, but also have the social open-mindedness of Renewal. With that said, we don't consider Rav Zalman Schacter-Shalomi to be our rebbe. The Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem Schneerson zt''l) is our Rebbe.

We do want a mikvah in the vicinity. We don't have that here, either.

I wear a black fedora, sometimes a black driver's cap, but I don't necessarily dress like a "penguin" (I use that term lovingly. Sometimes I do, as wardrobe permits. But my wardrobe is not exactly "updated"). I wear a big blue and white frik knit kippah. I'm neither Breslov nor Samaritan. A friend of mine in Yerushalayim wears one, I liked the way it looked, and now I have one that is soft and feels comfortable. My infant has one almost exactly like it, and he is adorable in it. I read somewhere that it also has to do with Zionists, and obviously we are that, or we wouldn't be making Aliyah.

Holon has been mentioned, Beit Shemesh as well. We are a family of five, with a probability of one more. At the same time, we need to get to where startup and techology jobs reside. I want to bring mine with me, and I believe that I can build that groundwork in the next year, but I have to be prepared in the event my employer vetoes my vision.

It would be nice to finally get a decent education, both secular and yeshiva. Eleven year old boys in Ramle probably know more Talmud than I.

So what are the sections of the Tel Aviv area, Sharon district, etc. Anybody? Anything?

Why the hell do you want to go THERE?

Today is Tu B'Shevat. Basically, it's the Jewish Arbor Day, for lack of a better description. I guess that means everything is about the celebration of new stuff. In our case, it's the beginning of what might possibly be the most indirect permanent vacation ever.

To make it short, we are planning our Aliyah. So now when those occasional pesky mamzerim wish to inform us on how "you Jews" should go "back to Israel" (although I've never actually heard this from someone without immigrant blood themselves) we can calmly explain how we are working towards this shared goal, and we are certainly trying, in full compliance with their wishes, to not let the door hit us in the ass on the way out.

Seriously. We are very well aware that the primary question most Americans we know will ask is "Why the hell do you want to go there?" Of course, there are quite a few reasons, but I think perhaps Matisyahu gave a good clue that fits with his song "So High, So Low":

When the time is right

I'll leave this place tonight

Just leave everything behind

It's time to face my life

We'll trail a path across that gap

Slap back through a crack in time

Is anyone on the other side

Seek and you might find

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there got to go there

Why not give up buck up drop down why not lie down and never wake up give in Give up and don't get up give in to the ground who gives a

She is frozen in time behind the enemy lines in the night time she stares down The highway which way's the right way walking through this world on a tight Rope of memory the door swings both ways in and out in and outside so buckle Up it's gonna be a bumpy ride no

Its gonna be a bumpy ride no

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there got to go there

I am searchin for the shade of the tree

Heard about it from a tune in the breeze

They say exists on the side of the road

But which road nobody was told (so lo)

All i know is i must find a road that leads where nobody goes (so lo)

Where i can roll down all the windows where the wind blows down those fears And foes (so hi)

So let go of the steering wheel let go let go (so lo)

All i know is i must find a road that leads where nobody goes

Let go of the steering wheel let go let go

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there

So high so low I don't know where but we got to got to go there got to go there

Of course, these are not my words, they're all Matti's. But like a good Torah portion or any segment of wisdom, you just gotta share, so I snagged them from a lyrics server for your introspection.

Perhaps the first thing I can tell you is that I use my Hebrew name in my blog, not my English one. At some point, this name will become my legal name for a myriad of reasons, however for now it is just simpler this way.

I have three sons, the oldest has just became a teenager, and the youngest is 5 months old.

I currently have a good job, one that has no problem with my religion, that treats me very well, and provides us as a family with very good benefits and services. This is a precious gift that we are grateful for everyday. My previous job knew my wife was pregnant. Everything was fine until the last month, then they decided to change my schedule to work Shabbat. This was also an intentional move. I worked in a place that adheres to quite a few illegal practices, and the fact that it was now rumored I was a "dirty Jew" didn't help.

Except for one little thing. I had just received a good review, that I somehow had the intuition to copy to a storage offline from the company (with the original timestamp). So one night I leave work and receive the call that I have been fired.

They cut off our health insurance after exacting the following month's payment, so I lost a paid month of insurance that conveniently was supposed to cover my son's birth.

Facebook is such a nice tool. So are inside "double-agents" . It didn't take long to find out what happened and why, and they found the double and fired them, too.

This was the first time I ever knowingly lost a job over my faith. In America. But that is not why, it was simply a wake up call to start truly analyzing what is going on here, and what my family is careening towards.

We seem to have this idea here in America that everybody lives in broken down paper shacks except for us, and we don't because we are just so awesome. Many things are happening now that simply prove this is no longer the case.

In America, the constant claim is that we are free, but truly, we are not. We are told when to poke our kids with drugs and heavy metals. My oldest is a direct casualty of this process. We live on a street where we do not know the names of any of our neighbors. When I was a child, we knew everyone by name, most of their birthdays, and any good or bad news was shared amongst us all.

Neither I nor my wife can get this level of connection even from our extended families. And that was before they realized I was a Jew!

However, even that is not a reason why.

When I look at my three sons, I wonder what will become of them, what they will accomplish, or not accomplish in their lives.

I now have a teenager, a tween, and an infant.

My teenager is going to knock girls off their feet in a few years. It's the sephardic Syrian genes. However, thanks to the aforementioned mandatory vaccinations for Chickenpox (why the f**k would you vaccinate for chickenpox?) and the fact that he would not be allowed in school without them, he now thinks he's a bus. At least it sounds that way. I fully believe that this part can be overcome, but the educational system wants to keep him in a box rather than associate him with his actual peers. They did that at his former school, and we had a child that was perfectly normal by the end of last summer.

My  tween thinks he owns the world, and that we all owe him something, perhaps he desires obeisance. I know he isn't appearing to desire effort. Given what the system and his biological mother have put him through, he's right. But he lives under my roof, thus he is wrong. Currently, my tween has the ambition and drive of a Wal-Mart cart fetcher. All three of them are worth more than this, but the deck is stacked against them here.

I have a five month old. He does, in fact, run shit. Anyone with an infant knows this is how it works with infants.

But they have an additional hurdle that will never be overcome whether they are observant or not. They are Jews, and are so no matter what they do or say. I worry they will become hurt over something stupid. I worry about them with all of the superhuman abilities of a stereotypical Jewish mother. I worry, with a teenager, and another closely behind, that they will be conscripted into military service. This brings a whole new element into it.

I served with the US Army in the Persian Gulf War. I can tell you that not a single one of us went into that war to defend anyone's freedom. We went to secure oil so Americans could continue to drive their SUVs. We knew that, and if you look honestly at the situation, you know that is the honest truth. Now we are fighting in two war zones, and neither of them have the slightest thing to do with freedom, either. In Iraq, America contends to save oil for our use. In Afghanistan, we put oil executives in power to build an oil pipeline across Afghanistan. This is a matter of fact.

I fully support our American troops 150%, but the fact is that they are not protecting anyones' freedom, we both know that, and this is what makes it all the more pathetic.

When I see the pictures of dead soldiers, I am struck with the parental fear of having to identify one of my own children. It tears at me, humbles me, and scares the hell out of me.

If G-d forbid, I am forced to lose any of my children, or my own life, for that matter, I want it to be for a reason that is valid, not just to be some politician's or special interest's trash. I would prefer to not lose them at all. I can no longer guarantee this here in America.

Perhaps that is the morbid side of the coin. There are other reasons.

We consider ourselves Chabadniks, but in reality we teeter between Chabad and Renewal. I wear a kippot, which I have to hide or cover everywhere except for work. I wrap tefillin for morning prayers (most days), and attempt to regularly study whenever possible. My wife chooses to cover her head as well, and that gets us strange looks at the grocery store, sometimes dirty looks because they think we are muslim, I guess.

With our eating habits, we can't rationally keep kosher because a) very little here is in fact kosher b) with our recent past, especially the period on unemployment, we couldn't properly afford it. We are moving towards a place where a majority of foods are kosher, and the price not as much of a difficulty.

We are looking at moving to a place that is not just a residence, but is home. It seems very natural and perhaps born into the Jewish neshama to yearn for Israel, for that is our home, our people, and even with all of the threats around it, much more secure than being indefensible as the only Jewish family on the street, as well as one of the few Jewish families in our area.

 I'm not going to pretend that we are going to a happy fantasy land where the streets are paved with gold escalator sidewalks, we run a gauntlet of ass-kissing, and the rain is tasty chocolate syrup dripping from cotton candy clouds underneath which angry Pat Robertson clones bring us cold mint juleps on the beach.

That is hardly the reality.

Coffee, which I love, is very different there. The pay scale is lower. Mandatory military service in some capacity or another. Governments can change on a dime depending on the current seating arrangements in Knesset. There are familial tensions between Ashkenazi and Sephardi, observant and secular, Jews and everyone else. Rent is basically as painful as here. There are homeless. No frigging NHL. A whole new language that every Jew should know, but doesn't.


The plan is to move in 2013. But that is a generic plan, it could be sooner or later depending on finances, the political spectrum, whether Obama has helped Iran poke a big hole in the Middle East between Egypt and Lebanon or not. He now seems to be performing more heavy petting with world dictators than a loose cheerleader on prom night.

But I digress.

We will miss things about America. There are people we love and admire here. There are places special to us. But the thing that any Jew has to keep in their mind is that there were quite a few things that German and Polish Jews loved about their countries. But because of their countries, they are no longer able to tell us about them.

America didn't care about the Jew then. They don't now. And Rahm Emmanuel is hardly a litmus test.

I want to know who my neighbors are. I don't want to have to be afraid of the ice cream man being near my children. I don't want movies like "Saw", and the idiots that replicate everything they see in the movies and TV near my doorstep. Basically, I want our family to enjoy this life we have on our terms, no matter how much or how little we have. Here in the "American Dream", you are a sheep. Maybe if you're lucky, a Serta Sheep.