Municipal elections are upon us, and our city is flooded with posters. I don't know about you, but I find it both disturbing and comical to see the "edits" on the signs, courtesy of the opposing parties. Take for instance the sign featuring a candidate who doesn't bear the telltale signs of an orthodox Jew: payos (side curls) and a kippa (skullcap). Some of the locals decided to bring a religious look to the mayoral hopeful, and now, on a sign at a busy intersection, he dons both. My moral compass tells me to frown upon such defacement in front of my children, yet we all can't help but laugh. Being a fan of this candidate, I think it looks rather becoming.
I try to behave myself, I really do. After all, I am not a youngster anymore, thus I can no longer pin the blame on youthful impetuousness. But in a community like mine, where one is conscious of guarding the tongue, I am considered outright incorrigible. Just yesterday I nearly got myself kicked off a local Facebook group for not following the rules, by inserting the name of my candidate of choice in response to a posting by the page's administrator. They had asked that no political postings be submitted or they would be deleted. I pushed the bar, albeit jokingly and obviously so, not once, but twice. I could claim natural Israeli chutzpah, but in these parts, that's a rare phenomenon. I finally acquiesced, and in respond to a personal message from the group's administrator, I ended the exchange with a simple, "It's called a joke. Lighten up, boss." My family, however, was a bit more amused than the message's recipient, and I could barely pick them up off the floor, where they were rolling with laughter.
I have become one of the star "punners" in a neighborhood group, where a more chilled group of folks see no harm in a little teasing and a lot of banter. I often wonder how those with serious natures make it through the day. Perhaps they have never buried a loved one, or submitted to weekly chemotherapy infusions. Maybe they've never had to bring joy to family members to ensure the entire family wouldn't sink below the waves of tragedy. Laughter is an unsinkable buoy, one that I have grasped for dear life on many an occasion.
Happiness is not to be undermined. It comes as little surprise to me and others living here that Israel ranked the 11th happiest country in the world in the World Happiness Report published just last month, while the US ranked just 17th. Yup, while hostile neighbors surrounding us on all sides sit cooking up plans to bring about our demise, both in the PR sense and in the literal sense, we are working, barbecuing, sunbathing, and sipping cappuccinos, and laughing it up while we do it all. Joy in Israel is inextinguishable. Just ask the shoppers munching on their fast food at the Modiin mall last year when the blessed rainfall flooded the corridors there. With photos for proof, the folks sat sipping and eating, unbothered by "a few drops" of Israel's most precious resource: water. Most heartwarming are the scenes of soldiers standing beside their tanks, wrapped in prayer shawls and donned in phylacteries, engulfed in a joyful connection with their Creator. Yes, even in battle, joy in this blessed life, in this blessed place, abounds.
So sue me if I have morphed into a fully joyful Israeli. As the character "Psycho" was told by his sergeant in the 1981 film "Stripes", lighten up, Francis.
I try to behave myself, I really do. After all, I am not a youngster anymore, thus I can no longer pin the blame on youthful impetuousness. But in a community like mine, where one is conscious of guarding the tongue, I am considered outright incorrigible. Just yesterday I nearly got myself kicked off a local Facebook group for not following the rules, by inserting the name of my candidate of choice in response to a posting by the page's administrator. They had asked that no political postings be submitted or they would be deleted. I pushed the bar, albeit jokingly and obviously so, not once, but twice. I could claim natural Israeli chutzpah, but in these parts, that's a rare phenomenon. I finally acquiesced, and in respond to a personal message from the group's administrator, I ended the exchange with a simple, "It's called a joke. Lighten up, boss." My family, however, was a bit more amused than the message's recipient, and I could barely pick them up off the floor, where they were rolling with laughter.
I have become one of the star "punners" in a neighborhood group, where a more chilled group of folks see no harm in a little teasing and a lot of banter. I often wonder how those with serious natures make it through the day. Perhaps they have never buried a loved one, or submitted to weekly chemotherapy infusions. Maybe they've never had to bring joy to family members to ensure the entire family wouldn't sink below the waves of tragedy. Laughter is an unsinkable buoy, one that I have grasped for dear life on many an occasion.
Happiness is not to be undermined. It comes as little surprise to me and others living here that Israel ranked the 11th happiest country in the world in the World Happiness Report published just last month, while the US ranked just 17th. Yup, while hostile neighbors surrounding us on all sides sit cooking up plans to bring about our demise, both in the PR sense and in the literal sense, we are working, barbecuing, sunbathing, and sipping cappuccinos, and laughing it up while we do it all. Joy in Israel is inextinguishable. Just ask the shoppers munching on their fast food at the Modiin mall last year when the blessed rainfall flooded the corridors there. With photos for proof, the folks sat sipping and eating, unbothered by "a few drops" of Israel's most precious resource: water. Most heartwarming are the scenes of soldiers standing beside their tanks, wrapped in prayer shawls and donned in phylacteries, engulfed in a joyful connection with their Creator. Yes, even in battle, joy in this blessed life, in this blessed place, abounds.
So sue me if I have morphed into a fully joyful Israeli. As the character "Psycho" was told by his sergeant in the 1981 film "Stripes", lighten up, Francis.
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