Erik yearns

So, friends, what DID I mean when I said "I'm the Nazz"? And should that question mark be inside the quotation marks?

Because I'm the Nazz

Shimstu is breaking out, friends. Check me out on this cool site. And stay tuned for an update on my new role in a 3-city tour of The Man of La Mancha! (I think i've been cast as the mule, but they haven't told us yet...)

Also, say a little prayer that I get the job for which I am interviewing on Tuesday. Amen.

Here's two pics of Lisa, who took the groundbreaking photo. She's the cutest! And clicky HERE for her site.



PS- if there is no picture of me at the top of this post, please let me know. For some reason, blogger killed my photo a day after i posted. I reset the photo, but still wonder if it will happen again

God Bless America

and a Happy Chanukah to all


(photo sent to me by Mrs. Jenny B. of Athens, GA.)

Chanukoran

We had a chanukah party today at ulpan. Across all the levels, there must be almost 200 students in the program. We all gathered in a little auditorium, where a guy in a Crocodile Dundee hat played a white baby grand piano, accompanied by shrill, cheezy Middle Eastern synthesizer rhythms. A few Arab guys were dancing in a goofy manner, trying to incite the rest of the crowd to join in. Two of the teachers and a small group of Americans were likewise dancing and inciting (or trying to incite). The rest of us sat and watched, maybe clapping. I was standing in the back, smiling at the odd spectacle of it all. Behind me, dozens of oily donuts waited patiently on the table.

The guy started playing the Chabad Mashiach song (a religious song combining Maimondes' 1000-year old proclamation of faith in the coming of the Messiah with the Chabadnik's tune celebrating the crazed notion that the Rebbe (may he rest in peace) IS the Messiah). I looked around at the crowd, 70% of which is young Arabs, and asked the Principal of the Ulpan if Muslims even have a Messiah concept. She understood my subtext. "They don't mind these songs," she said. "They just focus on the music."

I was somewhat skeptical. It must be weird for these Arab kids to be the majority in a program that focuses heavily on Israeli culture. After a few more songs, the principal got on the mic, and started explaining the story of Chanukah. I looked around at this room full of Palestinian youth, and realized that at the Purim party and the Passover party they also get to hear a revered legend of the Jews wiping out their enemy.

I leaned over to the guy next to me. "Having fun?"
"Absolutely."

Hamdul'lah.

Good Morning

I don't know that I felt jet-lagged over the past 2 days since I arrived back in Israel, but I spent most of that time in bed, awake or asleep. Tomorrow I begin ulpan (adult hebrew-language instruction, as they say), and so i need to get back on a normal schedule. i got into bed around midnight.

About 40 minutes ago I gave up on trying to fall asleep, flicked on the lights, the music and sat down here. It's now 3:40am. Alarm is slate for 7. Ach.

What else? What the hell else? People want posts. Updates. Their dose of this wanderingstu thing. And yet.

I went to a comedy show tonite at the Ambassador Hotel in East Jerusalem. It was called the Israeli-Palestinian Comedy Tour. The 2 Israelis were Americans, and one of the Palestinians was Egyptian. The other was American too. It was funny enough, but not hilarious. Yisrael Campbell, with whom I'm sort of buddies, was awesome. He's got some amazing bits.

I toy with the idea of trying to do some standup. Assembling material is rough. I wish I could just summon an audience at those moments once every few weeks when my spontanaeity and good humor are simultaneously awakened.

But I guess that defeats the purpose. I had a cute bit about being a settler and seeing that the airplane toilet was Occupied, but one of the guys used it tonite, and I started to wonder if I had even made it up in the first place.

I have another bit about terrorists throwing martinis instead of molotov cocktails, but I'm not sure if it's funny.

Tomorrow I begin the next phase of my life. Someone send me a friggin balloon.

Ironical

The previous post asks commenters to sign their comments. The last comment on the previous post is anonymous. And YOU-- YOU want me to post??? Well here it is. But golly, that ain't fair...

I am in Florida. I decided to come home to surprise my mom for her birthday and Thanksgiving. Valerie helped me with the conspiracy. I thought she was going to die when I walked in the door. Literally die. I was afraid. Here's the shot:

I thought it would be good for the whole family if I came. We needed to talk and spend some mellow time together. Plus I wanted to tell them face-to-face that I quit Yeshiva and moved to Jerusalem and don't know if, when or how I might become a Rabbi after all....

Yeah.

Here's a shot from 1997 or so. It was taken on film, and I just found it and shot a digital picture of the printed photo. That's how it feels when I'm in Florida. Sort of.

here's your new post

thanks for the attention, anonymous commenter.
if i had one guess, i would guess that you were not my mother.

as i've always requested, please sign your comments, so i know from whence cometh the love. that way, i can post just for you, with a personalized touch of wanderingstu magic. if i don't know who you are, i tend to stop caring.

plus, in my needy state, i would like a face to associate with the expression of appreciation.

and send bacon salt. please. my grapefruit is getting boring