YESTERDAY

I guess it started the day before yesterday. My friend Rena and I went to see the movie United 93. I told you already, I know. I may be a chronic sufferer of 'sometimers' but this isn't one of those times.

This time I am setting the stage. So bear with me. We saw the movie. No happy ending. And, I think, a fairly fair rendition of what must have happened that awful day.

Yesterday, I called Rena and asked her if she wanted to join Bubbie Channah and me for lunch. She said 'sure' and we decided to eat at Neeman, which used to be Sbarro. Yup, the famous Sbarro that was blown up at the beginning of the last intifada. And then blown up again when another suicide bomber blew himself up across the street a few months later.

Flashback. That morning, my cousins Sheldon and his wife were across the street, and my daughter-in-law had just passed Sbarro and was walking up Jaffa Road when the bomb went off. Bubbie Channah called me. I was still at home, cooking as usual.

I turned on the television, and they were showing the map of Jerusalem with a star where the bomb went off. See, Bubbie Channah lives just up the road. In the three years of the intifada she was adjacent to every bomb. And each time it blew her cupboards open, rattled her windows, and scared the hell out of her.

I quickly phoned everyone. As I have mentioned in previous emails and blogs, when a bomb goes off there is still a window of time where the phones all work before the lines are overloaded. I found everyone but my husband.

Still cooking and listening to the news from the television, my heart told me that Reuven was there at Sbarro. His office is up the street in Machenah Yehuda, the shuk, and he often walks to appointments rather than take the truck.

He was there. I knew it. And I was scared to death.

Finally, the map and star were replaced by on the scene, live transmission. And there he was. My Reuven. With all his Prince Valiant curls bending down in the street taking care of a wounded soldier. He was too busy to answer my frantic phone calls.

It took me a long time to be able to walk by that area without looking over my shoulder and putting my personal inner radar into high alert mode.

But, it's been quiet in Jerusalem, tfu tfu tfu. And Sbarro is now a lovely coffee shop and they have a nice breakfast/brunch menu. And it's just up the street from Bubbie Channah, so she doesn't have far to walk.

Rena ordered a cheese toast (grilled cheese sandwich) and salad. Bubbie Channah ordered the same. I ordered a Greek salad. We were half way through our meal when my cell phone went off.

My kid was on the phone. Here is the conversation:
'Imma, where are you?'
'Sbarro downtown with Bubbie and Rena.'
'Get out now!'
'Huh?'
'Red, hot alert downtown, get out now and call me.'
'Ok.'

My kid doesn't make those kinds of phone calls. And he is in a position to know what is going on. So, I called over the waitress and had our lunches wrapped up and we walked out into the street.

To tell you the truth, I didn't feel better until we were half a block away. And after sitting at work in the Clal Building (another favourite place to be bombed) for a half an hour, I was finally able to swallow normally and finish my meal.

One of the bloggers I personally go check every day (he's wonderful...go meet treppenwitz ) wrote a blog today about 'strolling'. Not about Muslims, davka but about Blacks in the States. And how they feel invisible in a white world.

I don't feel the Muslims feel invisible. Just the opposite. To me they are very visible. And it's their fault. They scare me. I don't know who they are and what they are going to do at any moment.

So, until the Muslims living in America become American Muslims and the Arabs in Israel become Israeli Arabs and each fight for the freedoms and safety of their homeland (America/Israel!!!) then no one is going to trust them or want them around.

My friend Chavah says they are just bullies. Yes they are. With big and dangerous weapons and no value for human life...not yours nor mine.

Today I'm home after sleeping over at my babies' last night. My oldest was out of town on business and my d-i-l invited me to come over and spend the night. What a treat! A great time was had by one and all. Me, the most.

Yesterday opened wounds I thought I had put behind me. I guess until the world stands up to these 'bullies' and teaches them a lesson they aren't going to forget in a long time, we are all going to have to keep hoping that we're invisible and that they don't see us.

Hocus Pocus. Doesn't work.

So, until I can find the magic words, I guess we're going to have to hang in there together and hope that someplace a Knight in Shining Armour is getting ready to rush out and save the damsel in distress.

Till he does, I'm back in the kitchen cooking.

A sweet good year to you all.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.