דרוש תיקון - ישראל היא גילנית

סוף הקיץ. הקייטנות נגמרות. חופשות. הילדים משתגעים.

במרכזי יום לאזרחים ותיקים, פשוט עובדים כל השנה. אין דבר כזה חופשת קיץ. 
כשהצגתי תכנית עבודה לליאור שטרסברג, מנכ"ל עמותת מטב (ובהיות מטב ארגון גדול ומקצועי בתחום הסיעוד והזיקנה, ליאור הוא אחד האנשים המובילים בארץ בתחום) הוא שאל אותי - "אם תפתח את מרכז יום מצפה רמון בשבת, יגיעו?" תהיתי לשתי שניות, ועניתי "בהחלט". זה שירות חיוני ומתן השירות ללא ספק מהווה פיקוח נפש. חברתי לעבודה בעבר, רויטל סגרון יעקב, תמצאתה את החיוניות של מרכזי היום בפוסט בפייסבוק מהשבוע ועל ההשפעה האדירה של המרכזים על עשרות אלפי אזרחים ותיקים.

אני עם צוות מרכז יום נהורה לפני כמעט 20 שנה

אף אחד לא ביקש את השניקל שלי לגבי השביתה של מרכזי יום ברחבי הארץ שנערכה שלשום 15/8, אבל החלטתי לרשום את דעתי בכל זאת. במשך 7 שנים, שמיטה שלמה, ניהלתי שני מרכזי יום מאוד שונים: ב-2015-2017 את מרכז היום הגדול של העמותה למען הקשיש בית שמש, וב-2017-2021 את המרכז הרב תחומי בהפעלת עמותת מטב במצפה רמון. אני גאה לציין שכוח העל שלי בתפקיד היה ניהול תקציב.

באחד הימים מספר חודשים לפני סוף התקופה שלי במצפה, בעקבות עיכוב בקבלת הארכת אישור כיבוי אש (סיפור ארוך ומתסכל), נאלצנו לסגור ליום אחד את המרכז. עבורי זה היה השפל של כל 7 השנים. הזוג שמפקידים להגיע כל יום נאלצו לאכול כוסות מנה חמה (ועוד הרבה סיפורים עצובים) בגלל פשלה אדמיניסטרטיבית. נשבר לי הלב.

כל מרכזי היום ברחבי הארץ סגרו את הדלתות בסגר הראשון של הקורונה באביב 2020 לכמעט 3 חודשים. לא היה צורך בשום מחקר כדי להבין - האזרחים הוותיקים הלכו אחרת אחרי התקופה הזו - אם עד אז הגיעו כל יום למרכז יום והשתתפו בחוג פעילות גופנית, אכלו ארוחות בצוותא עם חבריהם, תפסו תאוצה של שנים כדי להגיע למצב פיזי מסוים; אז ברור שהם הלכו לאחור בגדול בגלל המצאיות הבודדת שהפכה תוך לילה אחד למציאות החדשה.

אמנם מדובר שלשום על שביתת אזהרה בת יום אחד, אבל כל יום ללא הבית השני של מבקרי המרכזים מזיק. מאוד.

לכן הסקירה הדלה בלשון המעטה של התקשורת על יום השביתה חסר התקדים ממש מכאיב ומכעיס. בחיפוש גוגל אין שום פולו-אפ מאז יום השביתה. (כמעט) כאילו לא קרה. האמת כואבת - אנחנו חיים בחברה גילנית מאוד, שכמעט ולא מתעניין בכלל במצב הלא יציב של מרכזי היום - מסגרת קסומה ששינתה אין ספור חיים של גם עשרות אלפי מקבלי השירות וגם צוותי המרכזים. אישית, התקופה שלי כמתנדב במרכז היום במושב נהורה ובבית פרנקפורטר בירושלים ב-2005 ללא ספק גרמה לי להחליט לעלות לארץ כדי להביא ערך מוסף לאזרחים ותיקים ישראלים. מליאת התפקיד במשך 7 שנים היה חלום מטורף שלי מבחינה ציונית ובתור בעל תואר שני בגרונטולוגיה מאוני' בן גוריון.

להלן המסקנות שלי על "השביתה לאן":

1. ישראל חייבת. דחוף. למסד גוף שידאג לאוכלוסייה המבוגרת בסגנון ה-AARP האמריקאית. מהדף בקישור - העמותה הזו מסנגרת עבור הנושאים הבוערים ביותר של אזרחים ותיקים ומשפחותיהם: ביטחון בריאותי, יציבות כלכלית, ומימוש עצמי. העמותה נלחמת בחזית מול נבחרי הציבור ודואגת שאזרחים ותיקים לא יישארו מאחור, כמו שנשארו בגדול בארץ שלשום, ובכלל. 

ישראל אמנם חוקקה ב-1988 חוק מדהים, חוק סיעוד, שאומר שהמדינה תדאג לכל אזרח ותיק שזקוק למטפל/ת סיעודי/ת, והכניס לחוק את מרכזי היום, ועוד דירבנה אזרחים ותיקים לצאת מהבית למרכז יום תמורת 2 (או 2.75) שעות של חוק סיעוד, כשעוד מקבלים יום עשיר של 6 שעות.
אבל זה לא מספיק. 

חוסר העניין באיתנות של מרכזי היום זה סימפטום. החברה הישראלית לוקחת את מגמת הגילנות (ageism) הרווחת במערב, ומוסיפה את ההידור של החייל בן ה-18-21, אשר מוסיף לדריסת מעמד זקני השבט, האנשים שהקימו את המדינה. גוף מקביל ל-AARP נחוץ ביותר כדי לדאוג שנבחרי הציבור יתמכו במסגרת הקסומה של מרכזי יום ועוד אין ספור מיזמים חשובים.

2. מרכזי היום לא יכולים להרשות לעצמם להתבייש לגייס משאבים. 
תופעה כזו קיימת פחות או יותר, יותר או פחות - תלוי בגוף המפעיל.

זורק פה רעיון - לגייס תורם גדול שמעוניין בזיקנה ובאיכות הסביבה. מגייס תרומה עבור התקנת פאנלים סולאריים על גגי מרכזי היום (לפחות בשני המרכזים שניהלתי, מתאים מאוד).
התורם מבסוט שתרם לאיכות הסביבה, וגם לאיתנות הכלכלית של שירות חיוני שנמצא בקשיים.
ומרכז היום לא רק מוריד סעיף תקציבי של חשבון החשמל, אלא מרוויח כל חודשיים "משכורת" מחברת החשמל על החשמל שהוא מוכר חזרה אליה. ואם המבנה שייך לרשות המקומית, אפשר להסתדר עם זה, הרי כולם תמיד אוהבים Win-win.

בונים קומה חדשה? הגג תפוס? אז אולי לבדוק תרומת רכב חשמלי לטובת ההסעות. כולם חוסכים בדלק, ויהיה אפשר לנשום יחסית לרווחה (תרתי משמע). 

יש עוד מלא אופציות דומות כדי לשפר את המצב הכלכלי של המרכזים.

3. יש לי עוד מה להגיד. מי שמעוניינים, אפשר לבקש את ההמשך ב-WhatsApp או במייל.

חודש טוב ושבת שלום

נ.ב. אני עובד כבר כמה חודשים בהייטק ונהנה שם מאוד מאוד.

My 20-year career in elder care. It's a wrap!

It all begins with visits to my grandparents in Ohio, and their visits to us in Texas. I especially connected with Poppa, whose smile here radiates his essence. Fun-loving, positive, gregarious, he showered us with love, and he had this Yiddishe neshama - a real Jewish soul. I adored him.

He passed away when I was 12, leaving me grandparent-less.

I filled that void at 18 in a first-year Psychology seminar at the University of Michigan called "Late Life Potential", and then at almost 19 when I fortuitously decided to join a Hillel (the major Jewish organization on college campuses) Alternative Spring Break at the Lieberman Center for Health and Rehabilitation in Skokie, IL (I continued as the site leader of this trip the next two years). Those volunteer trips cemented my future direction working alongside like-minded people to strive for the greater good of older adults.

It took a year out of college to cement that direction, but when my friend (and prior participant from one of those Chicago volunteer trips) Jaime Goldberg got a promotion at Little Brothers - Friends of the Elderly (Chicago branch), she told me to apply for her position as a Program Assistant there. That was 20 years ago, the summer of 2003.

I fell in love immediately with making elder care my full-time position - visiting predominantly African American and Latina older adults across the South Side (also coordinating the NPO's food bag program for seniors in need). Their story of urban music and culture deepened and personalized the connection to jazz and blues that my father gave me. Christine Bertrand, the Intergenerational Coordinator at Little Brothers and "adoptive mother" of the Program Assistants, was a true ambassador to the world of elder care, relentlessly encouraging us newbies to stick around in the field and make a career out of it. Needless to say, I heeded that call. 

The next year took me to volunteer mostly at adult day centers in Israel on OTZMA, a 10-month program bringing young North Americans to Israel. I was exposed to a model that is far more widely adapted here in Israel than in the US, which was simply magical. Older adults in need of any number of things were able to join their peers, play dominoes, sculpt with clay and do other artwork, travel the country (we went together to the Dead Sea), eat two delicious meals a day, and just celebrate life! The directors of the two centers that welcomed me (Avi Entebbe in Moshav Nehora and Sima Zini at Beit Frankforter in Jerusalem) seemed otherworldly in their commitment to their participants' wellbeing.

When I returned to the US, I settled into a great position at a spinoff of Little Brothers called H.O.M.E. - Housing Opportunities and Maintenance for the Elderly - Volunteer Coordinator and Program Assistant under the Program Director Jan Takehara. I deepened my connection to minority populations in Chicago. But one Shavuot (the Jewish holiday that is (from Aish.com) "ironically a little-known holiday, given that it commemorates the single most important event in Jewish history – the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai"), I forgot to check my calendar and had scheduled a recruiting session for new clients for our weatherization program, which helped to keep apartments and houses warm in the winter. My recruiting efforts took place at an event put together by a nun, whose Caucasian-ness just stood out so starkly in a room of over 100 African American older adults. This nun gave her life and soul to enhance the lives of her beneficiaries. 

Shortly thereafter, I got stuck in Houston on the way to staffing a Jewish youth group Shabbaton (weekend event). As my plane-mates were freaking out about the inexplicable delay, I worked on various exercises from the job-search book "What Color is Your Parachute?" I ended up gaining the longly-awaited clarity I had been searching for: I was meant to pursue a career in elder care in Israel, serving my people, those who overcame unthinkable challenges in order to found our reborn national homeland.

15 years ago, July 2008, I left behind what seemed like a good stable job at H.O.M.E. and made aliyah (lit. ascended to / immigrated) to Israel. A number of months later, that position was eliminated due to the global financial crisis's impacts on their fundraising efforts. 

I pursued a Master's in Gerontology at Ben-Gurion University in the Negev - offering me the basics (Hebrew vocabulary in the elder care field), as well as amazing knowledge from the coursework, and connections to classmates and faculty that would prove priceless.

My first full-time position was at Project La'ad (forever) of the Jewish Agency for Israel and the Office for Senior Citizens (which has moved around a bunch in Israel's government since). I was the South region coordinator, helping train and supervise volunteers helping with rights clarification and documenting of life stories for Holocaust survivors. I especially enjoyed my work as the client-facing lead in distributing emergency funding to survivors in great financial need, as well as learning the nooks and crannies of my enormous geographic region, from Ashdod all the way to Eilat, our southernmost city.

After a relatively brief stint of underemployment, my friend Louis Miller found a Yediot Acharonot (newspaper) ad for the position of Director of the prominent Adult Day Center in Beit Shemesh. After my experience volunteering under Avi and Sima, this opportunity to try to emulate them was no less than a dream job! My two years there were followed by five more in the same position in Mitzpe Ramon at Matav, the country's leading elder care non-profit, a very professional organization specializing in home health care, but also with a huge footprint in the field of adult day center management across the country.

I was blessed to work with amazing staff members, doing incredibly holy work to serve the centers' participants. I put my stamp on these centers' services. I always remembered that Marion Perlmutter course at Michigan - Late Life Potential - and that served as a compass for my vision of these centers. A programming highlight was my fellow Dallasite and neighbor over the last several years brewing a batch of beer and giving a seminar and tasting in Mitzpe Ramon. 

After two years of managing the Mitzpe Ramon center under the COVID-19 pandemic (during which zero of our participants contracted the virus), and all of the resulting personal and family costs, it was time to find the next challenge.

A close friend and former lecturer in graduate school, Doron Sagi, is doing amazing work as we speak to try to make the Gerontologist into more of a brand name in Israel. But as my search dragged on, my networking, multiple interviews for interesting positions, self-reflection and inventory of my strengths and fields that I didn't excel in failed to lead me to the next promised land, and my degree only reliably opened one door (to be a professional worker at a home health care agency, performing home visits and doing the paperwork for new caregivers - which I tried out, meeting incredible staff and older adults at Matav Arad, but which definitely did not play to my strengths)...

I decided to move on and try out some other pastures.

My hats go off to Doron and everyone else who is fighting to make our degree a more reliable source for return on investment.
But I have a mortgage to pay. Right now. And then next month, and the month after that.

So I will soon (belatedly) update about that exciting next step.
But today I thank each and every mentor, colleague, boss, staff member, lecturer in university and many other courses, and especially all of the older adults who bequeathed me such great wisdom that they amassed over their decades roaming the earth. I wouldn't trade these two decades for the world.

A love song to two of the most important people in my life

Hi Dad,
Today's your 10th Hebrew yahrtzeit/אזכרה (anniversary of your passing). I can't believe you've been gone for a decade.
When you passed away, your fellow University of North Texas alum Marc Johnson's album "The Sound of Summer Running" was in Mom's car. Tradition is against this (תסלח לי ה'), but his song Union Pacific came on as Mom and I pulled into your funeral. I eulogized you with this what I'm pretty sure you would have called "tasty" tune bouncing around in my step, fitting in my mind for the most optimistic person I ever met. I think it sounds a lot like your soul/נשמה (neshama).
I put some words to it for this occasion. You always took care of composing songs and providing us with our soundtrack, but sometimes you left the words to me (I wonder who named your songs Masa and Shalva). Sorry I didn't rhyme though - think you'll dig it anyway.
I remember like it was yesterday relating my dating frustrations to you as we crossed the Trinity River in the Turkey Trot. I kept looking for my perfect wife thanks to your love and faith and belief in me, which you expressed to me that day, and always.
On the way to work yesterday I pictured you playing the piano at our wedding, instead of an anonymous, if quite talented pianist. And I cried. What I would do for an evening around the piano with Racheli and the kids, Mom, Amy and her family. I can only imagine how much you would be raving about all of us.

You used to pop into my dreams every so often. Haven't seen you there in ages.
I miss you with all my heart. On your first 2 yahrtzeits I put together memorial events with friends; both years I played breakup songs that (although that's awkward) really reflected my pain. Posting those YouTubes below. "Less, but it still hurts..." :I'll never get over you..."

Love you Dad!

-----------------------------

Wrapped up

Running the Turkey Trot

8 miles around Downtown Big D

We’re running the Trot

My hopes were runnin’ low on that cold Thanksgiving Day

Never forget it

“Don’t worry I know you’ll find her”

Wrapped up in all your love, all your faith, your belief I got something to give to that lucky lady somewhere

Looking far and wide Even crossed the ocean lookin for that heart Then I met my love She had me cracking up 1 minute into the very first date Check out that smile

Can’t believe you never met her

Wrapped up in all your love, all your faith, your belief I got something to give to that lucky lady right here

Halleluyah I just love her so much Even forgave me when I drove to the WRONG ER With all that love you gave me,  I just have to pass it all right on To these kiddos who we made She’s the best wife and mom

We’re so blessed and she gets more beautiful every single darn day

How does she do that?

Oh my G-d you would have loved her Wrapped up in all your love, all your faith, your belief I got something to give to my רחלוש she’s right here

we live in the coolest country in the world

It's been awhile, huh? Missed y'all!

Today we remember. Yom HaZikaron, our extremely somber Memorial Day. Two sirens (by night and by day), during a total of three bone-chilling minutes. We remember all of our citizens murdered in terrorist attacks, all of our soldiers who fell in battle. Over 26,000 Jews killed by those who wish we weren't here.

We remember all of our brothers and sisters.

But so much of the world forgets, whether intentionally or not. They forget that where we leave (South Lebanon, Gaza), in return we receive tens of thousands of rockets. I don't wish it on anyone to have to hear a different kind of siren, giving you notice to run to shelter, because a terrorist fired a rocket in the direction of your town.

The closest it has hit home for us is our sister-in-law's brother, who fell in 1991 in Lebanon (here's Ronen's story, for Hebrew readers). Most Israelis are only one or two degrees of separation away from having lost a loved one in war or terrorist attacks.

Israel remembers her fallen.

And now we'll switch to party mode for Independence Day - Yom HaAtzmaut.

We live in the coolest country in the world.

Exhibit א: Omer Avital and his band of ridiculously cool cats (dare you to try not to smile/bop your head back at them) -

Exhibit ב: a dad (Hanan Ben Ari) says to his kvetchy daughter, "we can't complain, our life is Tutim" (strawberries).

Exhibit ג: Moroccan Woman, Beit Shemesh-based bluesman Lazer Lloyd's ode to his North African wife.

In what I consider one of the greatest traditions in Jewish musical history, we're hoping to catch ב and ג tonight in the Holy City of Jerusalem in our millenia-old, renewed homeland. Those are just 2 of hundreds of artists playing around the country tonight FOR FREE to toast a happy 68th to our amazing, diverse, crazy country.

I'll add to the list from Yom HaAtzmauts past:
2005: David Broza (with fireworks going off of the roof of the building where we lived!)
2010: Beit HaBubot, Monica Sex
2012: that time when I missed Mati Caspi
2013: Avraham Tal, Mati Caspi
2014: Udi Davidi
2015: Karolina

Thanks to Mom-in-law for watching D! Gotta run!

Israel Decides 2013

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 (!).

Here I am, aspiring to slowly catch up with Ester by voting for my second time. I took the lead of the author of the above journal entry and said the Shechiyanu prayer before placing my envelope into the old-school ballot box. What an incredible honor to take part in the Jewish state's election, to do so while wearing my grandpa's ring!

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!

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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

Happy holidays

Merry Christmas to all my friends and readers celebrating!
Here in Beer Sheva, we don't get this holiday off, so you'll find me tonight at a training session for new volunteers for Project La'ad at Ben-Gurion University, and tomorrow laying the groundwork to expand our program for the benefit of the Holocaust survivors in nearby Kiryat Malachi and recruiting new student volunteers at Achva College.

Last week, my program brought volunteers from across the country to Jerusalem for a tour of Yad Vashem. This was the second of my nine tours of Israel's national Holocaust museum led in Hebrew, and as always, I picked up some new vocab:
נצר / netzer = stem, shoot.
This is a special usage referring to the lone survivor of an entire family. Our tour guide told us that Yad Vashem knows of 114 such last stems of their family tree who fell in Israel's War of Independence.

Our tour guide also emphasized a list of numbers of Jews by country, compiled during the Wannsee Conference and its Final Solution, a.k.a. extermination of Europe's Jewish population. The list included Estonia, with its relatively insignificant population of a few thousand Jews. So now our job as part of Project La'ad is to reach as many of Israel's roughly 230,000 survivors as possible in clarifying their rights, documenting their life stories in Project LeDorot (a joint program with Yad VaShem), and through a friendly visiting program--all without missing a single town, no matter how small its population of survivors.


At the end of the tour, where the main exhibit opens up to the spectacular rolling Jerusalem foothills, with a group of students from Ein Gedi who recently joined Project La'ad.

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Speaking of powerful, Dov Lipman's piece here gives plenty of motivation to continue my dad's convivial attitude in greeting everyone he saw with a smile and a 100% genuine "how are you?".

Here's a really powerful Harvard Business Review piece about honesty and making day-to-day decisions with integrity (thanks to my co-aunt (urbandictionary.com's term for my sister's sister-in-law) Jenny).

Dave Brubeck and sitar legend Ravi Shankar left the world in the same week. In addition to catching Brubeck with Dad, thanks to Michigan's University Musical Society, which brought Shankar to Hill Auditorium (and gave students a crazy discount for good measure), I ended that rough week for the music world feeling extremely grateful to have seen both those, among so many other, legends in concert.

Peace and love from the capital of the Negev!
אריק/Eric

Back to normal

The war (עופרת עמוד ענן/Oferet Amud Anan- Operation Pillar of Defense) started as far as I was concerned when I got the following text from my boss:
חיסלו את מפקד החמאס אז תזהר.. בטח יהיו נפילןת [sic]
The Hamas commander was killed so watch out...there are gonna be rocket hits

From there I underwent the longest 17 hours of my life with 20 sirens, made it to Jerusalem (where I was interviewed on WGN), and all the way north to Carmiel, the bag I packed for a week and a half lasted me exactly the correct duration, and then a couple weeks ago I got back home to the South.
Everything, believe it or not, is back to normal. It certainly was odd to report on my timesheet for that "Rocket Thursday" I couldn't get to the office because of war. Anyone reading here ever had to report that on their timesheet???
But I am thrilled to be back in the Beer Sheva I love, that of the pool, the free concert series where I was thrilled to see Peter Rot, one of my favorite singer-songwriters, the weekend spectacular moonlight hike that the student association put together at Yerucham Lake to our south. And this week I've lit candles with some friends from the university. Life is good and I'm very busily back to work.

The incredibly Koby Mandell Foundation opened up its Comedy for Koby shows to Southern Israel residents--I made the trip to Jerusalem for my free show, but will certainly be a regular attendee and help fund raise for their future shows. A friend and former colleague from work at Masa reviewed the show as part of her job at the Jerusalem Post. As Rachel reported- Named for 13-year-old Koby Mandell who was killed by terrorists in 2001, its biannual shows help raise funds for activities benefiting Israelis who have lost loved ones to terrorism. Check out the Foundation's website--I especially enjoyed this list of Koby's favorite jokes.

חנוכה שמח/Chanuka sameach- Happy Chanuka! I enjoyed Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks' basic historical piece on Jewish celebration of this holiday.

Israel's nurses are on strike for the ninth day, sending shock waves throughout the country and the health care system. As the son of a nurse in her fourth decade in the field, it hurt to read the scathing picture this Israeli nurse painted of her work conditions (written very clearly for the layman, for the Hebrew readers among you).

One of Dad's all-time favorites, Dave Brubeck, joined Dad upstairs for a duet (that NPR piece is loaded with fantastic videos). This video of the Kennedy Center Honors performance for Brubeck three years ago is so heartwarming--check out the huge smile on Dave's face when his sons formed a quartet and jammed for his birthday!

Dad--you missed my performance of RSVP for your אזכרה/azkara - memorial last spring, but I'll keep learning your music and give you a nice show upstairs. The Jazz 101 course you taught me was front-loaded with Brubeck. Your enjoyment for his odd time-signatures and unique voice, which so clearly left its mark on yours, passed to me immediately when you got me into his stuff when I was in high school. And then we caught him live at Ravinia at their summer jazz festival, one of so many you came up to Chicago to enjoy with me.

Doctor Sekeres' New York Times blog post on cancer patients holding out for family visits or celebrations before succumbing to the disease hit home especially hard on a week when I received the heartbreaking news that another friend lost his mother to cancer.

Richard Behar, a financial journalist looking professionally from the outside in at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict proved himself extremely adept at presenting background on the situation.

Stevie Wonder let me down big time by succumbing to pressure and backing out on his LA concert for the Friends of the IDF. Stevie--if you're reading my blog :), I met you back on Martin Luther King Day in 2003 after you spoke and played at the Northwestern University MLK Day event. Then you urged Bush to stop the war in the Middle East. While I disagree with your decision to cancel your performance, I see that an IDF-related event might not be the best match for you. But I sure would love to see you find an alternative cause in Israel to support. We love you and need you Stevie!

Peace and love,
Eric