When I was in college, the upper classman who had been assigned (or offered?) to tutor me in calculus told me that I should do as he did and write down quotes of good phrases or paragraphs from books I had read. I was elated at the time (although it had nothing to do with calculus) because I had already been doing so since I was in junior high and thought that sharing a habit with such a smart guy meant something. I still have the journals where I would, without recourse to logical flow of thought, intersperse notes on my life with quotations from various authors. And after a few years I discovered I had dropped the habit. Perhaps it was when the internet became so all-encompassing and I realized that if I ever forgot the whole of a quotation or who said/wrote it and where, I could easily find it on the net. Silly of me, because I feel that you can't integrate words until you have written them down. And all of this is a boring introduction to what I am writing about now (obviously I have too much time on my hands this weekend)...and what I am saying is that I am now reading Catch-22 and there is a part in this book that had me laughing out loud and I just have to write it down.
I picked up the book when my team leader brought to work two big boxes of books that she offered the team. She's going to America and has all these left-over books that she doesn't want to take. When I saw Catch-22 I grabbed it. I've become a fan of modern philosophy and the books that although they might not be universally hailed as philosophy are actually that. Atlas Shrugged, "Badulina" (Hebrew), The Alchemist, Siddhartha... And once while on the train I overheard a guy who was reading Catch-22 in Hebrew explain it to the ladies across from him that through a story it explained a philosophy. So I wanted to read it. And now I have started to... :-) and I just made the introduction longer and more boring.

Anyway, there is a scene in this book about a court martial, and maybe it's the mood I'm in now, or maybe it really is hilarious enough to make me laugh out loud at any time, but in my mind, it looked like one of those classic comedy acts like Abott and Castello.
It goes like this:
----
"In sixty days you'll be fighting Billy Petrolle," the colonel with the big fat mustache roured. [snip] "And you think it's a big fat joke."
"I don't think it's a joke, sir," Clevinger replied.
"Don't interrupt."
"Yes, sir."
"And say 'sir' when you do," ordered Major Metcalf.
"Yes, sir."
"Weren't you just ordered not to interrupt?" Major Metcalf inquired coldly.
"But I didn't interrupt, sir," Clevinger protested.
"No. And you didn't say 'sir' either. Add that to the charges against him," Major Metcalf directed the corporal who could take shorhand. "Failure to say 'sir' to superior officers when not interrupted them."
"Metcalf," said the colonel, "You're a goddam fool. Do you know that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then keep your goddam mouth shut. You don't make sense."
[snip]
"What did you mean," [the colonel] inquired slowly, "when you said we couldn't punish you?"
"When, sir?"
"I'm asking the questions. You're answering them."
"Yes, sir. I--"
"What did we bring you here for?"
"To answer questions."
"You're goddam right," roared the colonel. "Now suppose you start answering some before I break your goddam head. Just what the hell did you mean, you bastard, when you said we couldn't punish you?"
"I don't think I ever made that statement, sir."
"Will you speak up, please? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, sir. I --"
"Will you speak up, please? He couldn't hear you."
"Yes, sir. I --"
"Metcalf."
"Sir?"
"Didn't I tell you to keep your stupid mouth shut?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then keep your stupid mouth shut when I tell you to keep your stupid mouth shut. Do
you understand? Will you speak up, please? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, sir. I --"
"Metcalf, is that your foot I'm stepping on?"
"No, sir. It must be Lieutenant Scheisskopf's foot."
"It isn't my foot," said Lieutenant Scheisskopf.
"Then maybe it is my foot after all," said Major Metcalf.
"Move it."
"Yes, sir. You'll have to move your foot first, Colonel. It's on top of mine."
"Are you telling me to move my foot?"
"No, sir. Oh, no, sir."
"Then move your foot and keep your stupid mouth shut. Will you speak up, please? I still couldn't hear you."
"Yes, sir. I said that I didn't say that you couldn't punish me."
"Just what the hell are your talking about?"
"I'm answering your question, sir."
"What question?"
" 'Just what the hell did you mean, you bastard, when you said we couldn't punish you?' " said the corporal who could take shorthand, reading from his steno pad.
"All right," said the colonel. "Just what the hell did you mean?"
"I didn't say you couldn't punish me, sir."
"When?"
"When what, sir?"
"Now you're asking me questions again."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand your question."
"When didn't you say we couldn't punish you? Don't you understand my question?"
"No, sir. I don't understand."
"You've just told us that. Now supppose you answer my question."
"But how can I answer it?"
"That's another question you're asking me."
"I'm sorry, sir. But I don't know how to answer it. I never said you couldn't punish me."
"Now you're telling me us when you did say it. I'm asking you to tell us when you didn't say it."
"I always didn't say you couldn't punish me, sir."
"That's much better, Mr. Clevinger, even though it is a barefaced lie. Last night in the latrine. Didn't you whisper that we couldn't punish you to that other dirty son of a bitch we don't like? What's his name?"
"Yossarian, sir," Lieutenant Scheisskopf said.
"Yes, Yossarian. [snip] What the hell kind of a name is Yossarian?"
"It's Yossarian's name, sir."
"Yes, I suppose it is. Didn't you whisper to Yossarian that we couldn't punish you?"
"Oh, no, sir. I whispered to him that you couldn't find me guilty--"
"I may be stupid, [snip] but the distinction escapes me. I guess I am pretty stupid, because the distinction escapes me."
"W--"
"You're a windy son of a bitch, aren't you? Nobody asked you for clarification and you're giving me clarification. I am making a statement, not asking for clarification. You are a windy son of a bitch, aren't you?"
"No, sir."
"No, sir? Are you calling me a goddam liar?"
"Oh, no, sir."
"Then you're a windy son of a bitch, aren't you?"
"No, sir."
"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
"No, sir."
"Are you a windy son of a bitch?"
"No, sir."
"Goddamit, you are trying to pick a fight with me." [snip - exchange between Metcalf and the colonel that ends with the colonel telling the major to keep his stupid mouth shut and the colonel losing his train of thought again.]
"Now, where were we? Read me back the last line."
"'Read me back the last line,'" read back the corporal who could take shorthand.
"Not *my* last line, stupid! Somebody else's."
" 'Read me back the last line.' " read back the corporal.
"That's *my* last line again!"
"Oh, no, sir," corrected the corporal. "That's *my* last line. I read it to you just a moment ago. Don't you remember, sir? It was only a moment ago."
"Oh, my God! Read me back *his* last line, stupid. Say, what the hell's your name, anway?"
"Popinjay, sir."
"Well, you're next, Popinjay. As soon as this trial ends, your trial begins. Get it?"
"Yes, sir. What will I be charged with?"
"What the hell difference does that make? [snip] Cadet Clevinger, what did -- You are Cadet Clevinger, aren't you, and not Popinjay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. What did--"
"I'm Popinjay, sir."
[snip - exchange between the corporal and the colonel about how Popinjay is up shit creek without a paddle.]
"Just what the hell kind of a name is Popinjay, anyway? I don't like it."
"It's Popinjay's name, sir," Lieutenant Scheisskopf explained.
"Well, I don't like it, Popinjay, and I just can't wait to rip your stinking, cowardly body apart limb from limb. Cadet Clevinger, will you please repeat what the hell it was you did or didn't whisper to Yossarian late last night in latrine?"
"Yes, sir. I said that you couldn't find my guilty--"
"We'll take it from there. Precisely what did you mean, Cadet Clevinger, when you said we couldn't find you guilty?"
"I didn't say you couldn't find me guilty, sir."
"When?"
"When what, sir?"
"Goddammit, are you going to start pumping me again?"
"No sir. I'm sorry, sir."
"Then answer the question. When didn't you say we couldn't find you guilty?"
"Late last night in the latrine, sir."
"Is that the only time you didn't say it?"
"No, sir. I always didn't say you couldn't find me guilty, sir. What I did say to Yossarian was--"
"Nobody asked you what you did say to Yossarian. We asked you what you didn't say to
him. We're not at all interested in what you did say to Yossarian. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then we'll go on. What did you say to Yossarian?"
"I said to him, sir, that you couldn't find me guilty of the offense with which I am charged and still be faithful to the cause of ..."
"Of what? You're mumbling."
"Stop mumbling."
"Yes, sir."
"And mumble 'sir' when you do."
"Metcalf, you bastard!"
"Yes, sir," mumbled Clevinger. "Of justice, sir. That you couldn't find--"
"Justice?" The colonel was astounded. "What is justice?"
"Justice, sir--"
"That's not what justice is," the colonel jeered, [snip] "...That's what justice is when we've all got to be tough enough and rough enough to fight Billy Petrolle. From the hip. Got it?"
"No, sir."
"Don't sir me!"
"Yes, sir."
"And say 'sir' when you don't," ordered Major Metcalf.

On Friday morning the kids woke me up with kisses and told me to close my eyes while they led me from my room to the dining room (well, first they woke me up with a balloon that popped, but never mind). They had a black forest cake, with cake gnomes on it, and candles around it, and the pretty glasses on the table. They sang happy birthday and I blew out the candles.

Omer got me a dolphin snow globe (that showers sand-colored glitter, not snow), a perl necklace, chocolates, and a card. Daniel got me a book. And Shiraz made me a card. We had a fun little breakfast of cake and milk.

Then the kids went to school and I went to get a haircut and a new pair of jeans.

And that was my 38th birthday. Kind of cool. :-)

At Check Point the CEO, Gil Schwed, has organized different volunteering activities for the employees, for whoever wants. One is to tutor kids from a school in Jaffa. The picture is of me and the girls that I tutored in English last year. This year I got two boys. Well, the first time we met, they asked if I supported Barak Obama, and then we got into a discussion about him. So when we met the second time, I brought them a print out of a quote from Obama's book, where it talks about his speech in the 2004 DNC on Civil Rights. All the kids in the school are Israeli Arabs. So imagine that a Jewish Israeli teaches Arabic Israelis about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr and Civil Rights and such.

The teacher, the TA, and the manager who is in charge of this project all saw the paper I brought the students (and all those adults are Jewish Israelis) and heard our discussions. The CEO was sitting at the next table. And you know what they all said? "This is really good!"

I'll leave the conclusions up to you, but I think it says something about Israeli culture, about it being more tolerant, more willing to find diplomatic solutions for equality, than some people give us credit for.

One of the kids in Daniel's class has a mother who is the sport teacher of the class. So she sent a letter to all the kids in the class, saying that one parent was to come at 1.30 pm after school on Friday for a sport event. Last week, on Monday, Daniel reminded me he needed a cake for school. On Thursday Daniel and I went shopping and talked about whether we should bring a cake or cupcakes and for how many people. He insisted it should be enough for all the kids and their parents, though I thought enough cake for 80 people was going too far. Well, we found box-mix for brownies and I got four. That night we were tired, so we didn't bake, even though making brownies was much eaiser than the cakes we had been planning, but as it turned out, much better. (All the moms thought they were amazing and I almost got away with it, until one asked me point-blank how to make them, and I had to answer: buy a box and add two eggs.)

There was about an equal number of mothers to fathers, so it was nice that there were more women than I expected. We all brought something and put it on little tables in the sport yard. Then the teacher led us through the warm-ups and drills that the kids do. After the drills, we played field hockey with soft sticks, parents against the kids. Then basketball, and I even made a basket. But then I caught the ball wrong and broke a nail and my thumb still hurts. The teacher told me at the end that the only thing that went wrong the whole time was me getting that "injury", and she sure did make a fuss over it. Anyway, it gave me an excuse to sit out while they played soccer/football. The fathers really got into it, and I was scared for the kids, but only one girl got hurt by having the ball kicked into her face by an aggressive father, and he surely didn't mean to do it. She cried a bit and then got over it, so it was all ok in the end.

On Sunday I worked from 10 to 3pm, and then we, the Tech Services teams, went on a trip. We did some activities - hitting a target with a paintball gun, helping each other get through small holes in a net, moving someone on a harness by pulling and releasing ropes...it was all cool stuff. Then we got on the bus again. It was dark already, about 9pm. And we drove down the road and got out and walked up a hill, the night was pleasant and the stars were out. And we got to a place where there are many caves and holes, and the path was lit by torches and lanterns run by a generator. We strapped on harness and helmets and rode down an omega, and then we could also do snappling down a large hole into a cave. But by the time there was a free harness, I was so tired, I didn't do the snappling, just the omega. Then we drove back to the first place and they had dinner for us. It was a buffet of salads and chicken, wine, beer and cola, with low tables on an outdoor carpet, with cushions to sit on. After dinner there was a bonfire and then they got out a guitar and sang for about an hour. By 11.30pm I was so tired I just wanted to get home. We got back to TLV at about half past midnight, and then I drove home, took a shower, and fell into bed. I woke up at 6am and my body is still sore. More from the bus than the activiites, I think. :-P