Aliyah Diary 25: Not cutting me off this time!

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Aliyah Diary

01. Aug 19, 2024: Preparation In America
02. Aug 25, 2024: First Few Days
03. Aug 29, 2024: Moving In
04. Sept 4, 2024: First Day of School
05. Sept 8, 2024: Two Weeks In . . .
06. Sept 16, 2024: Getting Comfortable
07. Sept 22, 2024: Ready for Yom Tov
08. Sept 25, 2024: Jerusalem Concert
09. Sept 30, 2024: Nasrallahed on the Floor
10. Oct 8, 2024: Driver’s License
11. Oct 13, 2024: Packages. (חבילות.)
12. Oct 25, 2024: October Sun and the Jew

13. Oct 30, 2024: Bureaucracies and Stories
14. Nov 2, 2024: The Kindness of Strangers
15. Nov 10, 2024: Safety Fourth
16. Nov 17, 2024: Where People Look Like Us
17. Nov 19, 2024: Jewish Identity and Outlook
18. Nov 24, 2024: Language – l’at, ‘lat
19. Nov 28, 2024: Taxation for Americans
20. Dec 5, 2024: Tel Aviv Art Museum
21. Dec 11, 2024: Let Freedom Ring
22. Dec 23, 2024: Doctors & “Choleh Chadash”
23. Dec 29, 2024: The West Bank. (Shomron)
24. Jan 5, 2024: Supermarkets & Highways
25. Jan 12, 2024: Not Cutting Me Off

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My favorite road sign

Apologies for the low quality. I have been meaning to take a picture of this sign every time I drive to Jerusalem. For those who don’t understand the Hebrew or the blurriness isn’t properly correcting the mis-calibration of your too weak prescription, it says that you should love your neighbor as you love yourself. It is the best highway sign I can think of, ever. I mean, New Jersey was all great with rhyming “don’t drink” signs such as “Hocus Pocus drive with focus” and “Drinks all around? Get ready for the impound.”

Jews are terrible at drinking – my Irish friend needed eight beers to start throwing up while I felt like garbage after two, though I was quite sober enough to take pictures.

My favorite toll collector

Today’s story is about a toll collector of sorts. It starts with the story of the taxi driver who cut me off – this wasn’t a standard swerve in where you shouldn’t. This was more than even an Israeli-style swerve in where you shouldn’t. An aside: I think Israelis have a different sense of space. Americans are known to stand the furthest away, of all nations, from others when talking. We’re all about personal space. Give my five acres and a shot gun in case you get too close. In Israel cars change lanes with much less room to do so – as if … if you don’t brake for them, you’re the one being rude. It’s just cultural.

Never mind. Back to the story of today – this was an epic cut-you-off. It was driving into the security line at the airport. There are four lines of cars entering through security – I’m in the right most lane with closed lanes to the right of that. Two taxis decide they will cut in front of everyone. There is no room to do so though it doesn’t stop them. The car behind me honked the guy out of his way and … somehow the taxi driver still got in there when I wasn’t looking like how Wiley Coyote’s skis went on either side the tree and he didn’t smash into the tree because he wasn’t looking.

Remember how Israelis have a different sense of distance? I’m not talking just … kilometers … even though have a different length here. They think, for example, that a minivan fits within the space of an American sedan, and a sedan should fit within the space of a clown car.

Never mind. Back to the story of today – there was no shyla … no question … that after cutting into the lane just behind me – the taxi driver won. He’s in the lane despite the driver behind me desperately, rightfully, and longingly (it was a very long honk) honking him out of there. In America a taxi driver would take the win and carry on. This guy? He sticks his cigarette out of his window (some people still smoke cigarettes around here – you see it … in the U.S. everyone has switched to the ganja and there’s far more of it than cigarettes here …)

Never mind. Back to the story of today – he sticks his cigarette out with at a “it’s no big deal” angle while he pulls up next to, and theoretically in front of me with negative space to do so. He’s trying to pass my car now! Ah nah! This isn’t just about me! This is about the pride of the guy behind me too! The guy behind me also has an American sized sedan and I have his back … well, I’m in front of him. I give a nod to the driver behind me and he signals “TAKE HIM DOWN!” (There was a glare – so maybe he didn’t. Well, even if he did, I’d have no idea what that signal would look like.) I do this for the pride of all married men who don’t have their wives in the car telling you to let the guy go!

Never mind. Back to the story of today – he drives in like he belongs there – I did NOT see it coming. Somehow his car is right next to mine in a single lane with cement barriers – we’re that close to the toll booth thing. Ah na! I prevail while leaning on my own horn and the smoking taxi man doesn’t and I didn’t even get a dent on my car! Double win!

Then I get to the security guy which, in Israel, looks like a toll booth worker with a machine gun. My Hebrew isn’t good enough for this yet and it might be more effective to yell it in English … “ata medabar Inglit? Please pull that guy over! He almost caused an accident! Pull the guy over! He almost caused an accident!”

Now, I don’t know if the toll booth worker (army security dude) with the machine gun understood me or not – maybe he thought I said that guy had a bomb, may he did understand me, and maybe he saw the whole thing … the guy got pulled over!

I love you, Israel. V’ahavta l’recha c’mocha – In what country can you scream to a toll booth worker with a machine gun to pull over a sheigetz and not only do you not get taken in for questioning … they pull the other guy over! I hope he lost 1/2 hour of his day for that maneuver. Pay the toll, my friend. I love him like myself when by the Lincoln Tunnel I once changed lanes at the last minute in someone else’s car with an expired registration and got three tickets and a towing. Be happy you’re in Israel, smoking taxi dude. Be happy you’re in Israel.

Some “Yeah, I’m in Israel” Pictures

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Know what’s special about line 4? Do you know the angle I had to be at to even take this picture?

Give up? Look at the little white sign directly over the right side of the computer monitor.

It’s the express checkout line … not at the side lane … It’s somewhere in the middle and it says “register sale up to 10 pieces only” or something like that. Luckily for me, I’m from New Jersey and used to balancing products in my hands because I forgot shopping bags … and in Israel I figure, “meh, don’t need to find the coin to get the shopping cart” which has the same result.

There’s this great hardware store nearby called “Metallica” (such a great name for a hardware store) where they are super helpful. Remember hardware stores before Home Depot? They’re still a thing in Israel. I went in for some WD-40 and large wrenches to get the bit out … the guy let me use the tools in the store to fix it. I now own a can of WD-40 anyway because I didn’t want to leave without making a purchase.

Also, I bought an LED light where I had to screw on the outlet myself … and some spray paint to cover scratches from the previous time I won a fight with a vehicle that tried to cut me off.