I received some serious inspiration from both this incredible diary entry from Israel's first election in 1949, and then a visit to the one-and-only Ester Golan (a dear friend from Jerusalem's Cafe Europa where I used to volunteer). Ester has now voted in all 19 of Israel's elections (!).
My first time around, I was both more confident in my vote and more public in even writing about it in the Chicago Jewish News (and of course my old blog). This time I'll answer with the "no comment" approach.
I once again immensely enjoyed taking part in this year's campaign. Without a doubt the most hilarious moment was this Eretz Nehederet parody of a disgustingly racist ad by the Sefardi Ultra-Orthodox Shas party.
On a more meaningful note, Ben-Gurion University organized a massive get out the vote program by bringing most of the major parties' leaders to campus for lectures and panel discussions. My two central takeaways were the Yesh Atid party's Yaakov Peri calling not to move towards a marriage with the West Bank leadership of the Palestinians, but rather a divorce. And a Tnuah representative urged the student body to vote: "A political party isn't a pair of pants or a shirt--there's no such thing as a perfect fit." His plea to the students was to shy away from small parties. I'm all for the Israeli electorate settling into larger parties in order to ensure greater governmental stability.
Election Day is a national holiday, which made it easy to make my return trip to my old haunts of Jerusalem's Baka neighborhood to vote. My Jerusalem bus to make my way back to Beer Sheva took me right by the Knesset--I put up a little "G-dspeed" for my party and its representatives to do me proud in the 19th incarnation of the Knesset.
Now for a bit of commentary, 2013 elections style: David Horovitz explaining the electorate's move to fresh, new candidates; here he is a week earlier, spelling out what's happening in these elections so very eloquently; and here's an unbelievably frank interview with President Shimon Peres.
And now I'll go back to 2012, which wrapped up with quite a bit of bad news for my family:
Albert Oscar Brotkin, 3/18/1948 - 12/25/2012. A pure, happy soul who spread a lot of laughter and smiles, who loved his family (especially his great-nephews Jake and Ben), blackjack, and his Cincinnati Reds. Mom and Amy were there to bury him in Dayton next to his parents. יהי זכרו ברוך- may his memory be a blessing.
And my sister Amy's eulogy:
Uncle Al, you were always a very positive force in my life. Growing up with you as my uncle was a very special experience. You taught me to appreciate the simple things in life. You were always kind, loving and silly--and gave the best hugs.
I hadn't seen you in several years, but the boys and I truly enjoyed our phone conversations with you. Hearing your voice on the other end of the line always lifted my spirits. I'm sorry you didn't get to see Jake again and meet Ben.
--
Then a few days later, we lost our cousin Toker, my "host father" during my year on OTZMA. I left his funeral at the family's Kibbutz Urim cemetery so grateful that I heard about and decided to come to Israel on OTZMA eight years ago. That lent me the opportunity to get to know the side of my family that came to Israel instead of America. Toker taught me a ton of Hebrew, even more "Israeli-ness," ragged on me in 2006 after my Mavs choked against the Heat (אתם לוזרים-atem luzerim - as it looks: "you're losers"), was such a proud tour guide of his kibbutz, had a huge heart (I sat next to him when he saw on the news that his friend's daughter was killed in a terrorist attack in Sinai during my OTZMA year--he squealed in pain for his friend's family), and was just a super cool, fun guy. He left a gaping hole in his family here, but we will always remember him fondly.
I've done plenty of catching up at too many celebratory events to count. But I'll take a step even farther back and now recount an important story from the time when Dad was sick:
Some things you just don't procrastinate
I flew to Dallas between grad school semesters almost two years ago to visit my very sick dad. The day I flew back to Israel, he lost vision in his eye. A few days later we learned the cancer had spread to his eye, and that he was no longer eligible to continue in his clinical trials. The doctor said he'd have two good months during which he could scratch some travel destinations off his to-do list. As such, I planned a return visit about a month later.
In what can only be called השגחה פרטית- hashgacha pratit: G-d becoming involved on a personal level in my life, I encountered Doron, a PhD student in my department, at his farewell party before traveling to Australia for his post-doc (we had previously enjoyed practicing our new languages on each other by the water cooler). We headed together to the bus stop to catch the bus to Jerusalem. There was a suspicious item on the bus we were supposed to catch and so it never left the central bus station, which led to a 45-minute wait for the next bus. With all that time to talk, I told him about my dad's situation.
Doron said immediately and adamantly: "You're waiting too long. You need to move the ticket up and go see your dad. This will have a huge effect on your life; it'll even impact your relationship with your kids."
It sounded at first a bit over dramatic--I believed pretty blindly in modern medicine and Dad's doctor's prognosis and timeline. But when I got home to Jerusalem that night, I moved up my ticket by a week.
In the end, I was able to be there for and with my sweet dad, thanks to Doron, for the last full week when Dad was himself, including when he said, "I've had enough fun to last the entirety of the universe." The day of my original ticket was the beginning of a serious downhill slide.
So now I've finally fulfilled my promise to Doron to get this story out. You just can't procrastinate the essential things in life!
--
And now for some "link soup:"
Apropos loss, an insightful review of Judaism's structure for mourners, and beautiful advice on how to comfort Connecticut's mourners from an Israeli who sadly knows all too well.
Israel's life expectancy is fifth longest in the world (for males, second only to Switzerland). This year I was too busy at work to join the Asperger's Taglit group I staffed three previous winters, but they got some great press in the Times of Israel. Israel, which for many years has been parched by the Middle Eastern sun and suffered many winters of drought, went for a nice binge drink a couple weeks back. Here are some spectacular snow pictures, and this piece includes some more.
In bad elder care news, the already too small number of geriatricians training in the US has suffered a further decline.
Here's a fantastic Seinfeld NYT interview, and the accompanying Superman theme song.
On that note, I'll have to call it a note as the laptop battery is going fast. The voting booths will be locked up at the end of the hour, and then the fun will just begin.
Over and out,
אריק/Eric
