The most wonderful time of the year in America OR Whose holiday is it anyway?

I think I learned about Christmas for the first time at around the time most American kids realize they were living a lie sold and repackaged every year by their very own parents in the form of a morbidly obese man, holding a coke and encouraging materialism. In Hebrew, Christmas' literal translation is the 'holiday of the birth'. Of whom? No way to know - you had to go to pre-Internet Wikipedia. Or the encyclopedia.

It's funny to have grown up in a country where every possible person I knew growing up was Jewish, and yet every year the only TV channel we had back then would show the mass at Christmas to the entire world. Jesus Of Nazareth, I was told his name was. But you see, Nazareth was like a quick drive from I lived. Jesus probably walked by my house when he wanted to get to the Mediterranean beach. I mean - he probably got sick of the Kineret / Sea of Galilee (by the way - what is that about?) - all those tourists coming to see him was probably too much, and let's face it - it can get real hot in Tiberius and he could never actually splash in the water, with all the walking all over it and all. Nice thing for the spectators, but if it was me - I would pick another skill that involves cooling my body in the 110 degree humid heat, like perhaps breathing under water.

So I'd like to think that Jesus took walks from Nazereth when he wanted to get some peace, quiet and to cool off, and maybe he stopped just where I used to play as a kid and rest, for a snack of olives or something.

But anyway... when I learned about Christmas, it had nothing to do with Jesus. My parents came back from a trip to Boston just around Christmas, and the pictures were something else - the snow, the lights, the decorations. It all looked so inviting and even warm within what even the picture showed was so cold. No holiday I knew was like that.

So ever since, I always wanted to experience Christmas in America. And it took some time. I visited first in 1990, but that was the summer. Then again in 1996, and that one I got to experience Christmas - but in southern Texas. I'll tell you - Armadillos and Christmas don't really fit, I don't care what those country songs say.

But then I got to experience it as an actual resident in Boston - and that was sort of what I had in mind. Freezing cold, lights, the works. And that was in the post-politically correct era and in liberal Massachusetts, so Christmas was replaced by 'the holidays', which is true to this day in hippie California as well. I guess it makes me feel a bit more inside it all, but as always with Americans - it's just what is said - everyone knows it's about Christmas, but in the P.C. way, they try to make everyone feel good - and it works - I'm a cheap date! So every Television event, every community event, they would start with 'Merry Christmas', and so on and so forth until they cover the holidays of the little known religion of Jediism, (http://www.jedichurch.org/) (yes, it's people who declare their religion as of the Jedi, worshipping 'the force' based on the teachings of Star Wars. Yes. Jediism. That's right - there are 500,000 people in the U.S., UK, New Zealand and others who identify with this religion and church. Still makes more sense than scientology though…)


So this causes the endings of shows and events to take around 20-30 minutes where every holiday in the tri-continent area is being covered where the host tries to run through 'Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukkah, Crazy Kwanzaa, easy feast day of Anastasia of Sirmium, good paganic yule, and a peaceful Constitution Day in China ..." - (wait, go back, I can't write that fast, is this going to be on the test?)

During this time, every mall, radio station and lobby, christmas music is being played in the background. One of the most popular is of course 'It's the most wonderful time of the year' that was written in 1963 by Andy Williams, who apparently either was tone-deaf to the 60s movement, or had a subliminal message. Used to like this song, but this is sort of the process I went though reading through it:

It's the most wonderful time of the year (indeed, it is!)
With the kids jingle belling and everyone telling you "Be of good cheer" '(they don't really but the idea is nice...)
It's the most wonderful time of the year (got it)

It's the hap-happiest season of all (happy times, got it)
With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings (yes, greetings... wait, what was that second part again?)
When friends come to call it's the hap-happiest season of all (why would he say gay AND happy, isn't that redundant?)

There'll be parties for hosting Marshmallows for toasting (so there's got to be a reason for that)
And caroling out in the snow there'll be scary ghost stories (scary ghost stories? is this halloween now?)

And tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago (back when in Christmas you used to scare kids with ghost stories and there were no gay people?)

There'll be much mistltoeing and hearts will be glowing (can't go past that now...)

When love ones are near (hmmm...)

It's the most wonderful time of the year (yes, while some of us seem to be confused...)

How do I fit in all this? I don't really. I play the role - it took a few years after I came to the U.S., but then I started buying some things for people. I even try to send those cards everyone buys made by the multinational corporation that knew how to capsulate the exact unique relationships I have with others. Oh, Hallmark - how do you do it? You know me so well...

But I'll admit it - after all the sarcasm, and looking at some of those crazy rituals - I really do love this season. There's always much vacation from work - hey, that's worth it just for that. There are light decorations in streets and on houses that are simply beautiful (and are really nicer to look at than the next house's foreclosure sign). And going through Hannukah now with Lia, who is astonished by those lights outside, and by the candles inside is what life is all about. Here in Los Angeles, it doesn't have the snowy Christmas I know from the Boston pictures or the movies. But it's a bit colder. It's lame, it's cheesy, it's materialistic and it's all cliche, but it's also beautiful, grandeur, and heart-warming. Come to think of it - it's America-concentrate.

So everyone: It's most wondeful time...
The most wonderful time (those in the back)
The most wonderful time, of the year!

History in America OR My tiny part in it

On November 4th, 2008, an event that never happened before happened, that I will remember for a very long time. It took me more than 8 years to be in America to see. The government, society and politics seemed to have been interested in stopping it for the longest time. I got to vote... but enough about me... for now...

As most people in the world know, on November 4th, 2008 history was made (yes, most – not sure that the guy speaking in click language in mid-Africa was able to click that there’s a new president in America), when Obama was elected to highest office in the United States, perhaps the world.

Pundits in the media had theories ranging from the accepted new diversity in America to the end of the Reagan-era. I think we need to start a new theory that vowel-to-letter ratio is higher for Obama than it is for McCain, which is the source of his strength. True, it didn’t work for all presidents before, but it’s definitely true now in this particular instance in 2008. Can’t argue with that. As strong an argument as the media has. 2012 elections? Obama needs to pray the Republicans don’t nominate Caesar Sequoia.

Or… it could just be that people got sick and tired of a president and administration that sucks more than a dyson vaccum and blows more than Katrina (pun intended).


They like to say now that this means the end of racism in America. Really? In all of vast land of the United States, there are about 7 houses left that are not about to be forclosed by the banks, and all of them owned by John McCain. And still 46% voted against Obama. Oh right – racism is gone with the wind.
In the popular vote, Obama got 9M more votes than McCain. The media called it a landslide. What does this mean? If 5M of those voters changed their mind the other way (and because of the great 2-party system they would have voted for McCain), McCain would have probably won. 5 millions changing their votes out of about 130M cast.

Want to put that in perspective? An estimated 5.2 million Americans have Alzheimer's disease. They may have wanted to vote for McCain and forgot.
Nearly 5 million Americans have dry eyes – they may have not even seen the names on the ballot.
More than 6 million Americans abuse prescription drugs - They may have wanted to vote McCain but the pink 3-eyed bunny living on their shoulder told them to change their vote.
Really - a landslide.

As I don’t belong to any of those 3 groups (while a few drinks in me would make me see my very own pink bunny, I call him Lloyd Bismol…), my vote for Obama was more valid, or at least I hope so.

So my first presidential vote in the US was a short experience overall. By the way – in my first presidential vote I voted for Obama. Result? He won. In 2006 I got to vote in my first mid-term elections – voted for the Democrats all across. Result? Democrats took back the house for the first time since 1994. Moved to Boston in the end of 2000. New England Patriots result? First Super Bowl championship in history. I’m just saying…

So in that Tuesday we walked to our polling station with Lia in the stroller. The polling station was in the church of a gymnasium. I don’t know about all the lines they were talking about in Ohio of people waiting in the rain for hours, but I know we strolled in directly to the booths that seem so sturdy, I believe mine toppled over because I sneezed. Lia was running around all across so there’s a chance I might have voted for Charles Jay of the Boston Tea Party (couldn’t make up a funnier option - CJ08.com; he also ran in 2004 - his running mate? Marilyn Chambers – a porn star in the 70s – only in America).

But anyway… I voted on all the measures etc. I got chickens to see sun before we use them for our own use, for a speed train from Los Angeles to San Francisco that will probably be built by 2027 when both cities will be under water, and to let all people marry who they want. Not all issues are of the same importance and magnitude… We put the ‘I Voted’ stickers on Lia, who was very proud to take part of the western democracy. Also, the stickers had nice colors to them…

Of course by the time we got back home that evening in California, all was but over, while you wouldn’t have figured that out from the media – they stretched how ‘open it is’ as much they could, while Ohio went to Obama and that meant it was really over.
But for me – I felt I was part of bigger America, and it was quick, anti-cathartic and a little fun. Obama got 68,236,957 votes. I'm responsible for it not being 68,236,956 and that will always be the case, so it's pretty cool.
In Israel we got the day off for election days, which happens about evey 2-3 months. Free from work every election day. Here in the U.S. I worked like crazy that day, and had to email with work back-and-forth while I was voting for the leader of the ‘free world’. Ironic…

Façade in America OR Back to the Future

Bright light - jump to the past.

6/24/1990. Going through the eventual descent into the United States for the first time was one of the more exciting moments in my life. And not just because it felt nice to be on a Sabena flight that was landing not in the People’s Republic of Congo and by the original pilots. I could see the American land far away, which already looked different than everything I knew. I took a big breath, eased my head backwards as I drank the scenery coming closer and close at me, only to have my head jolted by a strong kick from the back – a lot of Israelis on that flight.

We just entered the 90s, and one of the movies that were supposed to come out that summer was the third in the Back To The Future film series. I didn’t get to see the first back to the future in the theatre, but caught it, oh – I don’t know, a few hundred times in the holy land’s local pirate cable channel. And I loved it in the 157th time as if it was the 73rd. If nothing else, the music in the climax of the film, when Marty goes back, was my favorite music (grunge was not big yet). And as we were landing, that music went through my mind – the trumpets, the violins, the entire orchestra harmonizing together just in the second (oh yes, I timed it) the wheels touched the ground.

Bright light - jump to the future.

10/15/2004. In some complex twist of faith, and mostly because I pushed for it like a hungry tiger, after going to grad school, I got a job in Universal Studios Hollywood. In about October 2004 I was able to take walks from time to time in the Universal lot, and low and behold, one of the main points in the studio tour is of the Hill Valley clock tower from Back to the Future.
There it was standing larger than life, with some old-town stores and roads around it, where Michael J. Fox was chased by some small-minded idiots, but not Rush Limbaugh yet. This is something that millions of people can see every year and I did myself – only usually you are crammed in the studio tour tram with hundreds of other people. Standing up from your chair would include a nasty scream by the actor-wannabe-studio guide. Leaning forward from the tram, would stop the tram to get reprimanded by both the guide and the driver in front of the other tourists while being filmed by the Japanese ones. Trying to actually leave the tram would release every Universal monster to eat your flesh alive. But this was different. While every 10-15 minutes a tram would pass by, I and some other friends had a chance to walk around, walk up close to the tower and so on. Now, wouldn’t the best ride in Universal be zooming down the zip line like Doc Brown did? So of course I tried to get into the building. Only there was nothing there.

I walked around, and there was indeed a building this façade was attached to. Only it was a dirty old storage for props, with teamsters laying around the back competing who can do the least work for the longest. A sign over them was saying – ‘ 147 days without an accident’. Another one – ‘231 days without working’, which is surprising when you think about it.
I wasn’t really surprised. I loved the film, but I wasn’t that naïve. I knew that it’s all make-belief. I wasn’t really expecting seeing Doc Brown and Marty McFly waiting for me behind the wall. But come on… would have been nice to have a poster of them or something, right?
And I guess that this is the problem that I, and I know many visitors in America have – beautiful façade, while behind it may lie ill-content and people who don’t really want anything to do with you. There are different names for that – politically correct, courtesy, fake , phony.
One of the most surprising and repeatable encounters I have with visitors to the U.S. is going to any retail store. When leaving, the store employees generally greet the shoppers with the ever-green ‘have a nice day’. Instead of absorbing this random act of kindness and going about one’s day, visitors usually see this as some aggressive behavior equivalent only to that person giving them the finger and spitting in their eye. My mother was on the mild side saying ‘like she cares at all how my day goes!’
What I usually try to explain to visitors is that – ‘right, but why not hear it anyway?’ The problem is when it has to do with personal relationships. And many foreigners say the same thing – ‘you can’t really tell what the Americans really mean’. They say ‘let’s do lunch’ but mean ‘let’s do lunch. But not together”; they say “I love you” and they mean “please go away and die”.
So yes – there’s quite some façade in American relationships. But what I have also witnessed is much generosity that is pretty rare around the world.

Bright light - jump to the past.

8/1/2002. Maya and I drove cross-country from Boston to Los Angeles. We were now in a new city – we knew no one. We had 4 very small eyes in a massively large new city. At the very end of August 2002 I started commuting to University of Southern California with another classmate – Katherine. Less than 2 months later, Katherine and her family invited both myself and Maya to spend the Thanksgiving day and meal with their family and closest friends. This was the first Thanksgiving they have invited us over for every year since. Including when we grew 100% year over year by bringing both our new daughter and my father that they specifically invited.
So yes, foreigners see Americans as unauthentic, with much façade without knowing what’s really behind it. This may be true sometimes. Other people around the world don’t have such façade usually – what you see is what you get. I learned that what's really behind the clock tower in the studio is not a props building - it's that great story and characters of that film.

So if you’re lucky enough to be able to truly go through that front, there’s actually much substance behind it, and usually it is kinder and more generous than most places in the world.

Bright light. Back to the future – To be Continued.

Becoming an American in America (Part I) OR Hell-of-a-time

They changed the INS name in 2003. As the government felt that INS is not a long enough acronym, probably after having a congress subcomittee discussing this for 7 years, they changed the name from INS, or Immigration and Naturalization Service, to USCIS – United States Citizenship and Immigration Services. This is the same as when the devil tried to change the name from ‘Hell’ to ‘Underworld’ just in order to ‘rebrand it’ – but hell is still hell.

I believe the phrase – going to hell and back, was coined about the naturalization process. And like hell, there are demons, whose sole job on this earth is to torment other regular mortals.

Back in February of 2005 I drove all the way to a place that would best be described as a hellhole (coincidence?). Many other poor souls were circling the building like zombies – no one truly wanted to get in, but we all had sold our souls to the devil before, and now we just had to. The souls were strolling aimlessly around the building, all thinking ‘what have I done to deserve this?’
After an intimate experience with the first demon manifested as a large security guard named Bubba, I sat there with the rest of the terrorized souls. People from all over the world were there, all regretting that moment they became involved with Satan.

One by one we were called for the test, but not before we were treated like the lowly maggots that we are. Officer Lucifer came and took me away. The officer had the unique combination of kindness of a Marine drill sergeant with the wisdom of a retarded ameba.
I had quite an experience and having worked in marketing research, I think a study is due here. After all, there are only millions of Immigrants going through this first experience with the American government and it is critical to know how the process goes for them, right?
So I wrote up a survey to measure satisfaction or rather unsatisfaction of the experience. Here are the key questions in the spirit of the naturalization process:

American Naturalization Satisfaction Survey

Date: 8/2005

Dear new American Citizen,
We are conducting a short survey (137 pages long) in order to learn more about your experience with the process of naturalization with INS or USCIS, or whatever we decide to call ourselves – got a problem with that?

We’d appreciate your honest feedback (but remember, we know where you live, and you’re not a real citizen after all, so watch it!).
This is not a voluntary survey, mind you. You must complete this survey in the next 7 hours, copy it 13 times and send it to us along with $700 survey acceptance fee, 8 passport photos with your right ear revealed forward… wait… correction – 8 photos from the bottom up of your face revealing the inside of your nose… wait… correction – your left nostril shadowed and your face upside down. Yes, let’s do that – left nostril shadowed and face upside down.

DO NOT TAKE A REGULAR PHOTO and just turn it upside down. We have systems in the pentagon that we invested hundred of millions of dollars in that can find out if you were just applying gel to your hair to make it look like it’s falling – WE WILL KNOW.

DO NOT QUESTION THE LOGIC OF THIS PHOTO EITHER – we are the government, so do not fuck with us.

There is a great chance your survey will be lost, so keep a copy and be prepared to send it again with 13 new copies. Because we’re nice, you’d have to pay only $500 for the second time.
Thank you for your cooperation,
The devil and Co.

1) Our records show that you have been finally naturalized on 5/21/2005. Using your citizenship test knowledge, in what administration did your naturalization process begin?
○ Reagan Administration
○ Carter Administration
○ Ford Administration
● I forget, but sometimes before Taft…
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31b) How would you rate your overall experience with the naturalization process?

○ Excellent
○ Good
● Would prefer to be slowly eaten alive by Piranha
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74F-II/D) How would you rate the experience you had with the INS officer in your interview?

○ Excellent
○ Good
● Have you seen the movie ‘Misery’? Kathy Bates character’s evil twin
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124c) Would you recommend the naturalization experience to friends and relatives?

○ Would Definitely Recommend
○ Would probably Recommend
● Would definitely recommend to cousin Shlomo (I didn’t forget how he stole my money and my first girlfriend, so it’s time for him to see how it feels to get screwed over… mwahahahah)
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171a) What did you like best about the process?

____The green color of the chairs in the waiting room was nice and much needed. Using the calming green color is very effective, much like in a mental institution.____

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171w) What did you like least about the process?
____I’ll send you Volume I (A-Abuse – C-Cruel Officer) shortly.___

Giants in America – OR America the Giant

A couple of weeks ago I visited Yosemite National Park with my family, or as Lia likes to call it – Yoo-sammy – which I think is a much better name, and should definitely catch on. Please use it in some sentence, and forward to at least 3 friends – your luck will surely change…
On the south end of the park, we visited one of three groves of giant sequoias – the Mariposa Grove.

Giant Sequoias are the world's largest trees (in volume). They grow to an average height of 165-280 feet (50-85 meters) and 18-24 feet (6-8 meters) in diameter. They are native to the United States on the West Sierra mountains only and very few were ever cultivated outisde in the UK, Germany and such. Only the redwoods, that are also from the same family, are taller – and also can be found only in the United States. They are truly majestic beings – not only tall and wide, but they have a presence that creates an awe within anyone who sees them. We looked up with the other humans from across the entire globe, stricken by their size, magnificance and invisible aura. Jaws dropped, sighs were heard and necks were cracked.
Suddenly, a thought came into my mind - could this tree be a metaphor for the United States itself? Larger than life, towering over all the other trees, commanding the forest. Maybe simple, but it was somehow a given for me.
John Muir, an important environmentalist who helped save and create many natural areas including Yosemite wrote of the species in about 1870:

Do behold the King Sequoia! Behold! Behold! seems all I can say. Some time ago I left all for Sequoia and have been and am at his feet, fasting and praying for light, for is he not the greatest light in the woods, in the world? Where are such columns of sunshine, tangible, accessible, terrestrialized?

I can’t help again but equating some of this to what many who come to the United States feel about this country.
I later learned that with all of its majesty, the giant has surprisingly very shallow roots (about 3 feet or 1 meter deep). That’s as deep as my knee… and I lose my balance from time to time… Despite their shallow roots, sequoias are resistant to toppling because roots spread out over vast large areas - fanning out more than 150 feet (45 meters), providing a stable base to balance the massive trunk. The parallel continues…

After the first few trees in the parking area, we were walking a bit and reached the fallen monarch – a Sequia that fell down a few decades ago and is still there. Why did this giant fall?
The monarch was weakened by soil erosion, storm, and mutilation of its supporting roots by road builders, and it crashed to the ground under a heavy mantle of snow in the spring of 1927. After hundreds and hundreds of years it has been standing so majestically like its brethrens, it fell because modern life reached the park, after roads were built around it and destroyed its shallow roots. The metaphor is echoing in my head…

A sign next to the fallen giant said ‘Do not climb on tree’. A group of six young Italian men got there, who could have been characters in a movie making fun of Italians. Soccer jerseys, speaking loud Italian and smoking. They were just missing a pizza each to be stereotypical characters from a bad 80s movie. They of course quickly climbed all on the tree. After all, they might have not been able to read English. Mind you - ‘not’ is ‘non’ and ‘tree’ is ‘tri’ in Italian. You never know - maybe they assumed the sign was saying – ‘please, Italian soccer fans, climb on this dangerously-looking tree’!
They took pictures of themselves standing on the side of the tree - it could have been a caricature presenting how the Euro has won over the fallen American dollar…
A few months ago Newsweek magazine had a cover story based on a famous new book ‘The Post-American World’ with the back of the statue of liberty in the image. I looked at the fallen giant, and between the current chaotic American economy, the rising Chinese one, and overall war mess, I was thinking – are we witnessing the falling of a giant right now?
Which brings up an important philosophical question: If America falls in the forest, will the world hear it?
Or maybe there’s much time. After all, the oldest known Giant Sequoia, based on its ring count is 3,500 years old. Maybe America is one of those giants, and there are others few towering over the rest of the forest.

Much to think about. Or not… after all, these are trees, and United States is an actual nation and all. One might say these are slightly different things. Did I mention we got there at the end of a day after I was driving for about 6 hours, and that when we passed Fresno, it was 111 degrees faherenite (44 celsius)? I might have been a bit delirious, come to think of it…

Independence in America - OR An Office Birthday

So this week on July 4th, Americans will be celebrating that faithful day when the nation was founded back in Philadelphia (and not in Washington D.C., as most Americans mistakenly believe, which of course is impossible).

Americans buy a tremendous amount of fireworks - legally and illegally, from small ones that whistle like cute little birds, to large explosives that create medium-sized craters in Earth itself. This is of course different than most countries in the world, where you generally cannot buy from a store or a drifter in an intersection dynamite-based explosives. Well, except of maybe Iraq. Please note that in small and large cities across the entire country there are multiple firework displays throughout the July 4th night that are managed by professionals. But for Americans, that is not enough. They must celebrate freedom themselves. The freedom of not being able to name the 3 branches of government or their congressman, but still. All this is because for Americans, nothing means celebrating American independence like blowing up a small part of it.

And as birthday office-greetings in the United States go…
Hey, I’m so glad I ran into you here. Happy birthday, America! How old? 232?! You don’t look a day over 220…
So what are you doing this year? Oh, taking the day off – that’s great. Any big plans? Inviting any friends over? Oh, you’re not in speaking terms with most anymore after your last fight, huh? That’s a tough one…
Well, I’m sure Israel will come – she’s always desperate to be invited to any party. And Mexico will probably crash the party anyway – if you invite him or not. How about other neighbors? Canada maybe? Watching the hockey game, right… How about Zimbabwe? You both have so much in common – you don’t care about the constitution any longer and your money is worth crap now. How about UK? I know, it’s always awkward to have your in-laws there…

What? What happened? Why are you crying? That’s not true, you have many friends here… I don’t think everyone hates you… they’re just… a bit annoyed, you know?
You really want to know? Well, I guess it’s related to you fighting with others all the time. I mean – the fight you had with Iraq, since when? Your 227th birthday or something – do you even remember why it started? And you know that you always eat everything in the cafeteria and then just leave the garbage in your office? It stinks the whole building, and people are talking about that…
But I wouldn’t say hate. They still look up to you. They still try to be like you. You got the card, right? You see? We passed it around and most wanted to sign their name. Right – North Korea didn’t. That surprises you? He’ll probably throw a tantrum today too, just to get some of the attention.
Why don’t you go home early today to start the celebration already? You’re working more hours than anyone else here anyway. You deserve it. Go, drink something, maybe look at some pictures of your early years and think about how you got to here.

No, don’t go to the mall to buy something – that will cheer you up for a minute and you’ll regret it later – you can’t afford getting into more debt!
Ok, let me give you a hug. Here you go. Come later, we have a nice cake for you, with all the candles and funny toys at the top. Who made it? China. So yeah – I wouldn’t touch it unless you want some lead poisoning.

Driving in America – OR The Survival Guide

Only an American song would state that ‘life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long’. And indeed life in America is driving, and Americans spend a tremendous time on the road, and as public transportation in most of the U.S. is either non-existent or has the ever-popular aroma of urine-and-human-sweat-combo, many visitors/immigrants/aliens must go through the arduous process of renting/buying/stealing a private vehicle to drive the open/busy/insane American road.


From my experience, many such visitors are a bit skittish on this process, as they perceive driving in America as dangerous/scary/more painful than a root canal with no anesthesia. So as a public service, I am here to bestow you with my knowledge of driving in America across 46 states, hundreds of thousands of miles, a car accident (not my fault, really) and a backache from driving so much.
Just like traveling into a new environment, one must understand the native species. If you go to the Amazon (the jungle, not the dot com) you would want to know if there are snakes and what to do if one attacks the guy on the bulldozer clearing its habitat, right? Think about it then as watching a National Geographic show about a region in the world and its species.


So there are easy-to-remember 8 native driver-species in the United States.
Learn these well before going out on the road in this great American habitat. Also, pick one to belong to – no room for any new species that will break the eco-system balance.
Some of these you may recognize as species from other countries – they are not indigenous to the North-Americans region. Some however, have evolved entirely in the U.S. and are currently endemic to the United States. Let’s review the ones common to other regions and to the U.S. While there are some similarities, the American kind has developed some unique and interesting characteristics:


1) The Indy 500 Racer (canis nutjobus)– this refers to the driver, most likely of the male-persuasion, who must cut every person, change lanes enough to increase the mileage of the trip by going sideways, who runs every yellow-to-red light, and for whom the 85 mph limit in some areas is simply too limiting to his 1987 Hyundai.
As mentioned, you may recognize this species from your own part of the world. What’s interesting is that as most U.S. cities are plagued by traffic, you usually meet this driver in the next light after following his tire-marks on the ground. May travel in packs of 4-5 males. Likely to have the windows down, arm and hand out, potentially holding a cigarette.
Interestingly, this species believes that this behavior might be attractive to the opposite sex. This is a strategy that proves generally unsuccessful, specifically when stopping in a red light or slow traffic to methodologically pick one’s nose. This species is also known as the dare-devil. This species is theorized to be from the same family of…


2) The Honker (howlerus monkeyus)– all odds are that this is an immigrant/visitor. As a rule of thumb, if you hear a honk in the U.S. you can bet that this person is not linked in any way to any ancestors on the Mayflower.
Quick comparison: in Israel, for example honking is a form of communication. Israelis speak Hebrew and Honkish. Standing in a red light, a car feature seems to be that the honk is connected directly to the light. Just as the electrical current is passed to the light to change from red to green, so does the honk of the driver behind you goes off to gently remind you to move forward. In the U.S. however, many times I’ve been distracted in a green light, mistakenly assuming some friendly soul will remind me to move forward, waiting about 2-3 red-green cycles without a peep from the back. But do expect to hear that from time to time, as more immigrants arrive to the U.S. While related, this kind is a distant relative of…


3) The Finger-Flipper (assholus americanus) – while our first kind, the Indy 500 Racer, definitely presents some common characteristics, this is a separate species, as you might see a nice kind man or woman, who just decides to give you that friendly gesture for taking the right lane in front of them etc. In the urban habitat, attempt not to return the favor, as that nice 54-year old lady driving her Ford may then draw her 45 mm semi-automatic machine gun to 'spray some good lead-sense into you'.


4) The Tentative-non-Attentive – quite separate, this is a very shy species, that can be as dangerous as the Indy Racer.
Generally, very confused, and can be equated to the African Antelope– both will follow the crowd, but by themselves are prime candidates for predators.
Parking into drawn-out parking spot head-on takes anytime between 10-15 minutes. Parallel parking – the better part of an hour. Getting out of parallel parking – they’d prefer to purchase a new car and leave the other one there. All these are part of the off-chance they actually remember where they actually parked.
These species generally never remember how to get to places they’ve been to before, and when giving out directions they would use instructions that should never be used in such context such as ‘take a right at the flower’, ‘take a left at the fence’ or just ‘go up, then down, then back’.
When actually driving, they would be consumed by what they hear on the radio, their cell phone conversation or simply a pretty butterfly, and simply ignore you if you move slowly into their lane with a large vehicle.


The second half are those generally unique to the U.S.:


5) The Tank-driving, Cell-phone Speaking and Coffee-holding Blond – a special kind, that is exploding across the United States. A relative of species #4. If encountering a combination of both, run for the hills. On foot. Leave the car behind. While all blond drivers belong to this class, many non-blonds belong to this group as well, creating some difficulty in identifying these, but some signs are helpful:
A) Look for a vehicle large enough to haul lumber and bricks to outposts in Alaska, while never leaving the 5 block radius in the suburb. In fact, blondness, size of vehicle and bad driving are all positively correlated. Mini-SUV? Probably coloring hair. Hummer that can haul a NASA spaceship? Probably a real blond.
B) Look for a fence or a dumpster the vehicle is dragging behind without the driver knowing so.
C) Look for a vehicle slowly but directly slipping through different lanes. Upon honking to alert it, this species will be startled and will attempt to steer back to original lane with the knees, as one hand is holding the cell-phone and another holding the Grande-$7-starbucks frappuccino that might sustain an African village only by using its cream on the top, but it’s part of the diet because, you know… it has ‘splenda instead of sugar’.
D) Generally, every driveway, or parking structure with black marks on the wall within the height of an SUV front bumper is a clear sign of footprints of such a driver, as if they marked that territory.


6) The Anemic–Sickly—Blinker-Turtle (tortoise) – a special species – unlike the others, while virtually extinct in some areas, thriving on others – prefer the heat. Look out for this species in the Phoenix and Florida general areas. If you follow one on a single-lane – it is preferable to stop on the side and let them continue. Even if you stop for an hour, you are most likely to catch up very quickly.
Do not find yourself caught behind one turning left. After the first 10 minutes, your heart rate may synchronize with their left blinking signal.


7) The Environmentalist-Annoyer-Hybrid (pompous americanus) – the newest species that started being observed only in the past 5 years. As Americans would rather be caught dead than taking public transportation (and in a few years, they probably will be), they have selected a different route.
While the real reason for buying the new hybrid vehicles – combining gas and electrical technologies – was of course the rise of gas prices, this quite conniving species will try to convince you that they did it ‘to be green’. A newer oxymoronic phenomenon are those who drive the SUV hybrid for ‘environmental reasons’, which still takes more gas than a regular size gas-only vehicles.
This species are suffering from some superiority complex, as they feel they single-handedly saved the Earth by switching to a vehicle that uses just a bit less of gas than the previous one, and that they are therefore significantly better than you. If attacked, simply point out that until they stop drinking bottled water that was shipped from Fiji, drinking coffee that was shipped from Brazil and are living in hills that were cleared enough trees for their pool, which is never used, they should shut up.


8) The Other – orchestrating classical music, shaving, brushing hair, brushing teeth, brushing pets, applying make up, applying for a bank loan, applying for college, reading the newspapers, writing a poem, writing a will, urinating, changing clothes, changing jobs, painting toenails, petting a pet, filing taxes, having sex, or doing anything other than actual driving – Driver – generally can be found in the Los Angeles area. Stories abound regarding such sightings, especially around the I-405 freeway. Most of these will be done with two hands, while the wheel is being steered with the knees (unless those are needed for the mentioned activity; in that case then, it’s just a mystery).


Bon voyage, good luck, and may God have mercy on your soul (but get a really good insurance, as those insurance companies will take God to court, and will win!)

Misperceived In America OR Camels, Leprechauns and the deputy-sheriff's wife, oh my

In that night, as part of the American marathon trip my friend Idan and I took that included seeing some thirty odd states in some two and a half months, we drove our way through Florida to get to Miami. Now, even the ‘See Florida’ campaign doesn’t include the area we were at that night. It was Florida, and yet – nothing to see. No mouse, no girls in Bikini (and sometimes without) on the beach, no space shuttles, not even elderly Jewish people who can’t figure out a voting ballot. Actually, there is probably a fairly good chance we were the first and only Jewish people in that town who didn’t rush through the town to get to Bingo night. It was November 1996.

We just got there driving straight from Atlanta the whole night. You see, we thought we came up with the genius plan of actually driving all night, checking into a motel in about 7am, get a night sleep, wake up, stroll around whatever town we were in, and get another night’s sleep for the price of one. So we were able to very Israelically-like ‘screw the system’ and get more out of it. Of course, we risked our lives by driving straight for some 14 hours throughout the night, but man – saving some $27 for a motel night was really worth it (it wasn’t that bad really – no cockroaches – even they had standards).

After the much recommended 4 hour sleep in the morning (after which, the plan didn’t look that appealing anymore, so we did this only about 5 more times that trip) and a stroll around town, we decided to do our laundry in the local Laundromat. Already, quite a foreign idea to us (we grew up where laundry came from cloth lines in the window or the yard – you know, like movies about the 30s in New York…); we walked in quite confused.

After much figuring things out and after sacrificing a couple of white socks to the pink gods, we put in another batch when a woman that seems around very early 20s with some 3 children started talking to us. Now, it’s not that I want to pre-judge, but it’s been some 8 years now, so I’ll post-judge. Feeling like walking into a movie, this woman (I want to say Charlynn here), seemed to be a Jerry Springer refuge. I could have sworn that there was a Yee-haw waiting to come out with any sentence. She was the deputy sheriff’s wife – I mean, you can’t make that up nor can it get better than that. One of her first questions to us was our religion, which I already found odd. You meet someone new and your first question is – ‘so… Muslim eyh?’ Or ‘so do you do the whole Vishnu thing?’

Anyway, my friend quickly responded we were Jewish. That triggered a response that I would recognize again in the future – a complete awe as if we just mentioned we were actually Leprechauns. In an amazing combination of a subtle and yet rude retreat she disappeared to another side of the Laundromat.

Idan and I sat waiting for the machine, watching the woman chasing what seemed to be continuously multiplying number of children. Much like Mickey Mouse in the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, each time she was able catch one child and stop him from wrecking havoc, the other two seemed to multiply and create even more chaos.

For two full load cycles, she was running around the place, passing us a few times, until she gave up on her trying, her children and her racism, sitting next to us hard of breath.”So… where are you from exactly, boys?” she asked as she was looking at her rascals running around.
“From Israel” I replied. This created a 180 degrees u-turn in her attitude. I don’t believe that in her mind there was any correlation between being Jewish and being from being Israel. At that point, her attention completely switched from her children to us.
“No kidding” she said thrilled. “Were you in the army?”
Part confused, part proud Idan said: “Yes. We were both in the army for three years”.
“So you had guns and shot A-rabs and all?” If this was a movie, it would have been too unbelievable and over-the-top.
She continued asking us questions about the army, manifesting an alarming knowledge of guns for a person who had never been in the armed forces herself.
After covering the army, she summarized it all with an enthusiastic “Wow, the army, huh?” We nodded quietly. “And when you go back to Israel will you be working not in the army?”
“That’s right”, I said.
And then, after this whole conversation, she asked a question that would in some ways define many future interactions I had in the United States. “So, do you use camels to go to work?”

Idan and I were both speechless. A first for Israelis anywhere. Idan tried to patiently explain to her for the next 15 minutes that Israel is very modern with highways, and Internet and financial markets and high-tech industry (and yet, the chosen people never mastered the Laundromat thing). But that was the equivalent of convincing her that us leprechauns were actually pink and tall.

Indeed, I witnessed different sophistication levels in different areas of the U.S. and with different people, but this experience - the disconnect in her mind between being Jewish and being from Israel, as well as her question, repeated itself in a surprising amount of times in different variations. Just the overall concept of it is enough to amaze – she did think we ‘go to work’. She didn’t ask if we work in the fields, or if we hunt Zebras in the wild. She did have the concept of some kind of Western-like work, but that we used camels to get there. And camels. Not horses, or even bicycles. Camels.

For the record – Idan tried to explain to her that both of us actually never rode a camel in our lives. Now that I think about it, it wouldn’t be so bad – probably take care of a lot of traffic problems and the west’s dependence on oil. You think maybe this is the secret of Saudi Arabia and all – using Camels instead of cars and selling all that extra oil to the west?

We eventually left the Laundromat and had some crazy / interesting story to tell back home. But that whole experience was the first in a long sequence of such encounters. In many ways, this is how many Americans – sophisticated and ‘sophisticated-challenged’ still see myself and others – camel-riding foreigners.
Riding camels to work? A few years later in Israel I ended up driving an old Subaru to my University and to work. Kind of ironic...

Voting In America - OR The Chaos Theory

So we’re deep into 2008 and America is going through the most something primary season elections in history. Exciting, close, long, frustrating. You pick.




As I’m writing this, the race, definitely on the Democratic side, is still quite open that the media coronate winners only infrequently. That said, Obama seems like he has a big chance of winning.
Part of what is being said is that him being elected is going to be ‘good for America’s perception around the world’, as he’s African-American. How should I say this? America, no one cares about your president’s skin color other than you, ok? Russians – not really going to mind much that he’s black. Chinese – probably never saw a black man in their lives. African-non-Americans? (as in people in Africa) – I’m sure that as Mikalo runs away from Cheetahs, rebels and flesh-eating-locus, he would do this with a smile on his face as he is reassured that the president of that country over the ocean that wouldn’t cut any of the mounting debt has the same skin color as him. At least until the locus gets him. So no – no impact whatsoever. The American president launching wars or not would probably have a slightly stronger impact on the way the world perceives America than his skin color.




The trend right now is that Americans love Obama. He’s truly like a rock star – in his speeches the audience screams uncontrollably and obnoxiously – ‘I love you, Barack’, and he responds without flinching ‘and you know I love you too’. He is very much like U2’s Bono. Only Bono has a bit more political experience than him. Don’t get me wrong – I’m very inspired by the guy. Half way through him 2004 speech, I said that one day he’ll run for presidency. But I’m a bit concerned that when he gets into the oval office, he’ll need to google for ‘best agriculture secretary’ and ‘best energy secretary’ to set up his new administration. His rolodex has two entries total, and both under O – Obama, Michelle, and Oprah.




Clinton and Obama offer very different things. Skin color aside, the outcome of these elections that seem likely to go to the Democratic side, will impact the entire world. And how is this being decided? By the perfect Democratic process in America, where people make rational and practical decisions about the future for their families and communities.




‘No, but seriously’ you must say. And you’d be right. So here’s the first couple of paragraphs that came out on Time magazine’s cover story a week before the historic Super-Tuesday or the politically sensitive term Americans of course used: ‘Tsunami Tuesday’. And that Americans equate the political primaries in a single Tuesday to the sudden tragic death of hundreds of thousands of people in numerous countries only two years earlier, caused by nature’s cruelest force, is not one of the reasons people don’t like Americans. Oh no – they hate us for our freedom.

But here goes:

Senator Claire McCaskill is the highest-ranking Democrat in Missouri, and
Missouri picks Presidents. The Show-Me State has voted for the winner in 25 of
the past 26 elections. This is why the contenders for the Democratic
presidential nomination fought so hard for McCaskill's endorsement. As her wary
advisers helped her weigh the risks and rewards of siding with powerful Hillary
Clinton or charismatic Barack Obama, neutrality began to look appealingly
safe.
But there's something about an 18-year-old that can't abide careful
hedging and cautious steps. The Senator's daughter Maddie Esposito had seen the
way her mother teared up whenever she heard Obama speak. And now it was
happening again as mother and daughter sat side by side on the family-room sofa
in a suburb of St. Louis, watching the results of the Iowa caucuses on TV. "You
know you believe in him," Maddie admonished her damp-eyed mother. "It's time to
step up." The next morning, Maddie, a college freshman home for the holidays,
added a threat: "You have to do it, or I'm never talking to you
again."
McCaskill endorsed Obama — a big boost in an important Super Tuesday
primary state. And the story of that endorsement is the Democratic-nomination
battle etched in miniature. Kids like Maddie Esposito are the muscle of Obama's
army. (Time Magazine 1/31/08)

Oh yes – there’s something about an 18-year-old. Only Time magazine can be so diplomatic and define that certain something as ‘can’t abide careful hedging and cautious steps’. Or as anyone who knows 18-year-olds would call it – lack of coherent thought process at best, and stupidity at worst. And the fact that Obama is attracting ‘the youth’ is supposed to be a positive factor for me. Obama getting the retarded voter is supposed to make me want to vote for him? I’m sorry - that’s not nice. Some retarded people vote very rationally.

But back to the article. So in the great tradition of the great American princess, Maddie is affecting the faith of the world, and her mother – a U.S. senator mind you, of course bended to the whims of her threatening bitchy daughter. The article focused throughout on the higher political activism in these primaries. It didn’t mention in any way or form the fact that Maddie has single-handedly changed the course of the world by doing what a classic teenage girl in America is doing to her hard-working parents – throwing a tantrum that can be associated with a 3-year-old and threatening her parents in a way that if it would be a character in a Hollywood movie would be discounted as over-the-top.

At this point, you might say that I am hard on our little Maddie. After all, she just threatened not to talk to her mother. Not nice, but she could have done worse, you would defend her with futility. So let me tell you the next chapter in this Jerry Springer story. A couple of weeks later, our mother-of-the-year senator was a guest on Real Time with Bill Maher on HBO. They spoke specifically about her daughter’s influence on her endorsing Obama. McCaskill responded to that by saying “it wasn’t ‘mommy, please’, it was Maddie in my face saying, ‘how can you look yourself in the mirror, you’re a slut’…” (don’t believe me? here’s the video: http://bradhaller.blogspot.com/2008/02/mccaskill-on-maher.html). And this is what the senator is disclosing for the national media. I wonder what the little princess said when she was hungry and tired that she’s afraid to mention now…

Two quite different candidates – different gender, race, age, experience, plans for the American education, health care and war. The Missouri senator wanted to be neutral. But Maddie said ‘You have to do it, or I’m never talking to you again, you slut’, so Senator McCaskill endorsed Obama. And the world will never be the same again. This is just one state battle in the overall 2008 democratic war. But want to know how this ended? It’s not that this had no effect, and that either Clinton or Obama would have won big anyway. Oh no. Obama ended up winning Missouri by 1.2%, or 10,200 votes out of more than 800,000 cast. And would one state's results change everything? Both sides agreed that Obama's momentum started on the super-Tuesday that the Missouri elections happened.

So here you go America and world. Whatever happens next – good or bad – thank Maddie who threatened her mother by not talking to her. It is not much known that many world events happened in much of the same way. It is little known for example that Henry VIII made an important decision after Elizabeth I was willing to get out of her room only after daddy promised he’d unite England and Wales into one unified nation.

Hey senator! A couple of tips for you. One more slut-like comment, and Maddie’s credit cards are cut. Next time Maddie is in your face? Maddie now pays for her own tuition. And next time Maddie gives you thought-out political advice that you act upon? As a punishment for both, you need to take an ambassadorship mission to a place your behavior can’t hurt America so you can cool off that urge-to-endorse, like Antarctica. And even if Maddie falls in love with the cutest, most adorable, most charismatic creature, you still can’t endorse any penguin.

Naturally Blogging in America – OR, Why?

From as far back as I remember, which is weird as I’m not sure what I had to eat for lunch today, I had the impression that I would fit in in America – I felt closer to the philosophy, the liberal values, the chances, the sky (and therefore the limit). I’m not sure why – who does? And yet, I didn’t really become American by just landing in Boston. Not even close. I wasn’t exactly Israeli either - an immigrant, a foreigner; that floating existence between here and there. Locked between one world and another – just like Patrick Swayze in Ghost (only I still have a career).


That’s also the treatment I got. Unlike most Israelis, somehow when I speak English it doesn’t sound like I have marbles in my mouth. I do have an accent, but just not enough for anyone to recognize where I’m from. So I’m usually placed by Americans in that highly specific geographic region of the world – ‘the rest of the world’, or ‘not here’. In the past eight years I’ve been a Mexican, an Iraqi, a Russian, an Arab and many others - a true citizen of the world. A mild accent and not being completely white will do that to you. But thank God, or congress, my wife is a U.S. citizen and therefore I had the privilege of starting the process of becoming formally an American, what the powers call - naturalization. I don’t want to over stretch this now, but this is a process that puts the ‘tic’ in bureaucratic (one that is attached to one’s neck and sucks the blood directly and efficiently from the vein). This is a process that puts the preparation for the Apollo 11 mission to shame. Columbus reached America without a steamboat faster than this process. There’s a good chance that Haitians and Cubans who try to swim to the U.S. shore actually choose that option instead of going through this experience.


In the citizenship test, as part of the trial by fire initiation to become an American, the correct answers to the question: ‘Name some benefits of becoming an American’ are: ‘Travel with a U.S. passport’, ‘Obtaining government jobs’ and the ‘Ability to petition close family members to become U.S. citizens’. Well, I already had a passport, I never planned on ever becoming a cop or secretary of agriculture, and my mom is here a lot anyway. Conspicuously enough, voting and affecting the government is not listed as one of those benefits. Maybe this has to do with the 2000 elections – voting is not a benefit for any American.


There I was thinking: would that day of becoming formally a citizen make everything different? Would I become an average American all of a sudden? Would I start saying wrong things to my wife and buy flowers and jewelry to apologize for that? Would I feel different? Would I leave the swearing-in ceremony some 30 pounds heavier? Would I forget all geography? Or would baseball look so much better? All signs pointed to no. So the whole official process didn’t look promising – a passport wouldn’t have done it.


For years, I went through this vicious circle of hell of the formal naturalization. Fast forward (in warp speed), and finally in 2005 I became a formally naturalized U.S. citizen. But do I really feel natural here now? Is there another way to be part of it all? Do I need a secret password? Can I ever belong here? How do I get there? Can I get there from here? What’s with all the questions? And if Mickey’s a mouse and Pluto’s a dog, what is Goofy?


So why am I writing this? There were a few million other immigrants coming to the U.S. in the past few years, a few of them actually legal. Some of them not through tunnels, and a full dozen without bullets zooming over their ears by Southern Arizona self-proclaimed vigilantes. Couldn’t all they have written a blog about being in America? Why do I need the narcissistic potential attention of people peeking into my life? Well, for one, I am formally an American now, and as I don’t drive an SUV that sucks the life out of Earth itself, I need to do something to keep my natural citizen status alive. And secondly, I write this mostly for me, (considering the off-chance that anyone other than me actually ever reads this). Maybe I’ll never feel really totally natural. Maybe no person living outside the caves does. But maybe I’ll figure out if that’s possible at all.


So come with me on a magical journey across America (relax and don’t contact me about that - I don’t have any drugs!). In this journey we’ll explore the innate and learned cultural, psychological and anthropological differences between people around the world and how they compare to Americans. We will peel the layers of these differences to get closer to the core of the truth - that with all these differences, all people are the same – all people everywhere are hilariously ridiculous.