Travel – Page 4 – Don't Gel Too Soon

CITY OF GOLD? NOT TODAY – A NEW WAY TO SEE JERUSALEM

Usually when I write about visits to Jerusalem it’s to a city that looks like this — night over an illuminated, golden old city

Or this- sunset over the windmill of Yemen Moshe.

Not today though. Today, outside the lovely apartment we’re staying in this week – there was

SNOW!!! not a lot of snow by the time we arrived – but enough to leave little piles along the curb, to color gardens and car windshields white and to make it cold, wet and windy. Too wet to even take many photos – but this will give you an idea.

It’s been an eventful day. We had a snowy, foggy ride from Tel Aviv and arrived in Jerusalem to see kids building snowmen with the soggy remains of the storm, people bundled up and damp and, for those who usually visit in prime weather months, a city that was almost unrecognizable.

We spent the afternoon wandering around in the slush, buying groceries and even taking a cozy nap with the storm ranting outside. We had a crazy dinner with our synagogue group in a great kosher Chinese restaurant and now, as soon as I post this, we’ll go to sleep so we can get up and go early to the Western Wall in the morning. I’ll have more to report then.

MOVIES, AIRPLANES AND (ALMOST NOT) ARRIVING IN ISRAEL

Never a dull moment. After a relatively uneventful flight from Dulles to Frankfurt – even two movies I wanted to see (Michael Clayton and Gone Baby, Gone) we went to the Lufthansa desk to pick up our boarding passes for the Frankfurt-Tel Aviv leg of our trip. The airport was teeming despite the fact tat it was only 7AM. This is such a big transit point that flights come in from all over the world and you think nothing of passing women in abayas, Africans in full regalia, European speaking every language in the EU and of course Americans of every conceivable type. Even though the airport is in one of, if not THE major commercial cities of Europe, the variety is such that you don’t really think of yourself as being in Germany but sort of floating in some netherworld.

After waiting in a very long line, we finally reached the ticket agent, who took quite some time to pull up our information. This is very unusual in a German institution, especially Lufthansa, which is always completely efficient. Then we found our why. Rick’s passport expires August 11th. Today is February 18th – a week short of six months. Israeli security requires that a passport be valid for at east six months after scheduled arrival in Israel. He’s a week shy of that and we spent an anxious couple of hours in the Lufthansa business class lounge waiting to see what would happen. But when the flight was finally called, (and after we went through Secrurity causing a ruckus as my Macbook Air emerged to flounce its way through the Xray machine) we waltzed onto the plane with nary a question. Much ado about nothing — but given the German penchant for regulations and the Israeli attitude toward accommodation, it could have been otherwise.

Now we’re in Tel Aviv – back at the wonderful Nina Suites in the arty neighborhood of Neve Tzedek, and enjoying what I”m pretty sure is a nice funky neighborhood about to turn into the unaffordable Soho of Tel Aviv.

But we’re jet lagged and grubby and so now we’re going to sleep. But I’m leaving you with one extra photo – te kind you show to your kids in the “gee wiz” years They were de-icing the wing right outside our window as we waited to leave Frankfurt.

COOL, HUH?

LEAVIN’ ON A JET PLANE – ISRAEL AGAIN

Tomorrow – Sunday afternoon – we leave again for Israel. I’m amazed that we’re returning so soon and will be curious to see how it feels to be with a group instead of just the two of us. Last time was so perfect; that always makes me nervous – it’s not good to try to recreate perfection so we have to just allow this trip to evolve as its own.

We’re staying in a beautiful apartment in a great neighborhood and have great plans – I promise to keep you posted here.

CITY LIGHTS BOOKS, SAN FRANCISCO AND MY LOVELY SONS

When I was in high school this was one of the places I dreamed of coming: San Francisco’s City Lights Bookstore. Far from my home in Pittsburgh, arty, intellectual and free. Ironic then that all these years later I’m here, usually, to visit sons ten years older than I was when I set my sights on Greenwich Village or Bloomsbury. . . or San Francisco.

One lives here; the other’s girlfriend lives here so he pretty much commutes here from Seattle. It’s a perfect place to meet and spend the holidays. We came out for Thanksgiving and are here again, this time since Christmas day.

It’s been lovely, if a bit stressful: a new girlfriend for our younger one – we had dinner with her – and the pressure that comes from wanting infrequent visits to go well. At best we see one another every couple of months; both boys wish we lived closer which makes me feel good but it’s tough that we don’t — and have not much prospect of ever moving this direction.

Now it’s our last day and the usual burgeoning lump in the throat has appeared. Both boys have been genuinely happy to be with us and have ditched their calendars to spend the week with us. I’m very grateful for their attention – they think I’m nuts and say of course they want to be with us. For some reason this astonishes me. We do have fun – jabbering about everything from Benazir Bhutto to series television. Lots of laughter and the additional delight of seeing the boys and Josh’s friend Amy laughing and enjoying one another’s company. But as the time comes to leave, board the plane and fly back to our DC lives, a determined sadness permeates even the happiest of moments. I once interviewed Naomi Foner, mother to Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal and the woman who wrote Running on Empty, a film about children leaving home in a particularly profound and complete way. "Parenthood is the only job" she told me, "where you measure success by how well you say goodbye."

Manifestly, we’ve done that well. Our boys are strong, self-sufficient, productive men who are friends to one another and love their parents. They know we’re here but know too that they can take care of themselves. In that way, we’d be defined as successful. But. But. No matter how proud I am, how grateful for their strength and wisdom, humor and goodness, I miss them.

They are the treasures of my days and will always be, and the physical distance that prevents an easy Sunday afternoon movie or Chinese dinner and makes every visit an event is always a painful reality.

I’ll deal with it and so will they. It’s the way things are – and it’s certainly better to want them more than we see them than to have them sigh with relief when we leave for the airport. And whether we’re there or not, their lives are rich and often joyful. And so, I tell myself, at least when I’m missing them, I know they’ve become the men I would have wished them to be – for their sakes, not ours. And that’s a lot. It doesn’t put them here next to me — but it does send with me a quiet peace amid the sadness. That’s really all I can – or should – travel with. The rest — working toward and achieving what they want from their lives and moving forward in the world — belongs, as it should, to them.

Happy New Year.

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ – SAN FRANCISCO SCENES YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED

We’re here to visit our remarkable,wonderful sons and having a lovely time – hence the virtual radio silence here. Some things though, you need to share – even during a family vacation.

First of all, you always know when you come to San Francisco that you’ll see things that might elude you elsewhere, but this one is spectacular even for the capital of Blue State America. This little guy is wearing a shirt that says "Don’t pat me, I’m working." He’s apparently an assistance animal but we were damned if we could figure out what he was assisting in doing… besides wheeling through Chinatown making friends.

Lucky Revolution Vegan Chinese Restaurant (outside of which the Monkey rolled past us.) Great combination fried rice and hotpot eggplant, too

This is the site of Dave Eggars‘ tutorial project 826 Valencia, now expanding to other cities. Author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, founder of McSweeney’s publishing and The Believer magazine, he’s built a place to effectively teach writing and communication to underserved kids. It’s embarrassing to wander in, thinking oneself fairly cool for knowing to come here — and to discover — a gift shop! Clearly Eggars and his crew have built something very attractive — and become a tourist attraction.

One block from 826 Valencia and across the street, this blast from the past — windows jammed with anti-war and other political messages. This is not, of course, limited to San Francisco, especially these days, but it just seems so at home here.

Yesterday my husband announced that he had a surprise for me – and dragged me out of the hotel for breakfast. Next thing I knew, we were aboard a cable car for the first time since somewhere around 1971, right after we got married and came to Stanford for him to finish school. It was a great ride on a rainy morning.

We passed this – the top of Lombard Street, San Francisco’s zig-zaggiest.

And ended up here – at the famous Buena Vista Cafe. Famous as the place that invented Irish Coffee, across the street from the end of the cable car line and just above Fishermen’s Wharf, it’s a true landmark a place we used to love. It was so great to return and sit by the window watching this city’s every-changing tourist scene. On this corner, it could still have been 1971 when we first came here. There’s something lovely about a return like this especially when it’s a gift. My sweet husband triumphant once again… 36 years after our first visit!

More pix soon. Goodnight for now.

KUNG PAO COMEDY SAN FRANCISCO STYLE: CHRISTMAS WITH SHELLEY BERMAN

Of course there’s only one way to celebrate Christmas in San Francisco if you’re Jewish – tear over to the New Asia Restaurant for a little Kung Pao Kosher Comedy. Now in its fifteenth year, this nutty evening is a great way to spend Christmas night – even if you’re not Jewish. Founder Lisa Geduldig invented King Pao for lonely and/or bored San Francisco Jews with nothing to do on Christmas and it’s now a beloved tradition and sells out 8 shows, filling a huge Chinese banquet hall and dispensing audience members to 10-person tables with names like Matzo Brei and Joan Rivers. You can see how big it is just below.

Beyond all this, there’s also a full balcony. The crowd is interesting – kids from Berkeley Hillel, families, couples, groups of pals and random strays. Unfortunately, this "kosher comedy" night isn’t kosher so we went to the "cocktail" show and didn’t eat but it was really fun. The other three acts were good, but really amazing was to see Shelley Berman, celebrating his 50th year in comedy so close to where he began at The Hungry i all those years ago.

He now, in addition to his comedy appearances, plays Larry David’s father on Curb Your Enthusiasm and a judge on Boston Legal so he’s not exactly unknown, but last night was an introduction for many clearly enchanted young people in the audience. And he does it all with a gentle humor devoid of cruelty or crassness. It’s interesting to me what we can forget about what’s possible not only between one another but also between a performer and an audience when there is high regard — real respect — going both directions.

What that meant was that, amid the hilarity, I, as usual, landed in a philosophical and somewhat political frame of mind. How have we come to a place where this sort of performance is so rare? Surely we can’t be without excellent, respectful performers. Clearly, in this hip, modern audience, there was no sense that this style was antiquated or tired. But it’s a long way between evenings like this. I guess a live Springsteen show is another true exchange between performer and audience. But in entertainment, and sadly, in politics, there sure isn’t much that leaves everyone knowing they’re valuable, worthy people who’ve shared laughter and even moments of emotional connection with those in a position to "address" them. And yeah I know this is pretty much to stand on the shoulders of a stand-up comic but I’m kind of following my head this morning and that’s where it took me.

Oh – one more thing. Just before the show started my son pointed across the room and found one of his brother’s oldest friends – also a friend of his – a musician who’s been living across the country in Stockbridge MA, waving at us. Each delighted – and impressed — at the other’s presence, we were very glad to see one another but, despite differences in age, geography and lifestyle, not at all surprised that each would choose to be there.

TIRED TUESDAY

NABLOPOMO is almost over. I’ve spent half of it seven time zones to the east and another five days three time zones to the west, so, basically, I haven’t know what time it was all month. Oh – and in part of my head it’s still about…August. I can’t believe how fast this year has gone. We’ve had plenty of ups and downs and I’m sure there will be more, and slowly, over the year and most particularly over this month, I’ve discovered how important this blog has become. It’s not just an outlet or a project, it’s become something of a refuge. I love the freedom to think out loud, to write it all down — sometimes spontaneously with little or no discipline and sometimes with great care. In either case, I’ve reminded myself how much I used to love to write and how glad I am to have returned to the old habit. It’s still a bit premature to bid the big NAB farewell though; we’ve got the 28th, 29th and 30th left. More to come – and then it’ actually the last month of the year. Unbelievable.

YUP, THAT’S THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE AND THAT’S UNION SQUARE AND…

This is far from the prettiest part of this very beautiful city but it’s where we went walking today because it’s near our hotel. I’ll try to have better pix tomorrow. There is certainly lots of beauty here – down by the bay (as Raffi would say), coming in from the airport, atop those remarkable hills — here’s the way up on one of the ones we walked today (not so gorgeous either but for now…. that’s what we’ve got.)

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving – have a wonderful day. I’ll be back before Thursday midnight.

IF I KNEW THE WAY, I WOULD TAKE YOU HOME: TEL AVIV TO FRANKFURT AND THEN SOME

When you arrive in Israel this ramp is the entrance to your visit — the gateway to Ben Gurion Airport. When you leave, it’s the way out, too. It’s as good a spot as any to start this final travel post. Just a few last looks around.

This is VAT, where you get refunds on Israeli sales taxes if you live outside the country. Some line, huh?

Our trip went through Frankfurt and we had a long layover – so why now lunch downtown? It’s a quick trip from the airport on the train – for five bucks. Which is relevant – because, right in the center of the first square past the station is this statue of — a EURO!!! There was a sculpture of one, too, further down the street.

The city is growing, too. I love this picture — new being built around the old. Right in the middle of town…

This is the last picture. When I was in Berlin I went to the Stasi Museum, built in the old headquarters of the Stasi secret police in East Germany. It’s a hated memory across the country, so this political poster stuck on a mailbox just seemed a way to tie up this trip too. In Europe and here – and probably most other places, the ghosts of past horrors are how we interpret the present.

That’s why it’s so great to travel — and so great to come home, bearing our lessons with us.

JERUSALEM DIARY 2.0: DAY TWELVE TEL AVIV DAY TWO

Breakfast in our little cafe surrounded by locals with dogs and newspapers. This is a wonderful neighborhood – the kind people move into until those who created it have to go someplace else because it’s become too expensive. You can see it happening all around us. But it’s fun for now and the Mediterranean is literally five or six blocks away.

On our way out we passed this noodle stand — I guess these people want fresh ones for Shabbat soup

These kids in the Carmel Market are canvassing to get people to sign up as organ donors. In Israel it is still difficult to convince people to participate because of Halachic rules about burial. Much has been done to change the rules, but the squeamishness has not abated. They were charming kids, and very committed to this issue – and they had quite a stack of cards of new registrants to the organ bank here.

It’s almost Shabbat so my post for tomorrow is written and ready; this is the last one from here. I’m hoping we can go tonight to the beach for the drums that welcome Shabbat then to our friends for Shabbat dinner.