Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Go karting in Haifa w/Alona and her friends.

Ida taken 1st had I not gone NY on em and smashed into everyone.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Good tymes

I am among true occupiers here in Israel. We are surrounded by and intertwined with ayrabs. You can tell them apart off the bat. I should mention, I quarrel with no one until they crap in my lawn and have no problem with hard working people like the many ayrabs are. Certain smells remind me of times I've visited and I'm then reminded --- I now live here. A warm feeling I get. It's like some switch was turned on somewhere upstairs that says now is Gils time. So, I run around in this Peugeot 206 I picked up, I keep Rip more company then he's used to and am reaching a level of appreciation for music unlike any before. For an eternity I had to keep to myself myself (take a sec)... I would not give nor would I care to take. Kinda like parve ice cream or cake. Always on the "never getting married" tip. If I was given just a minute chance of someone possessing some of the qualities of a great girl, Ida been ecstatic. I wasn't though, the switch has been flicked and my "luck" is beaming. I'm in a familiar place, one of possibilities, where what happens is things. A place into where I was always told things will fall. I never believed.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

The current

I'm finding it very much liberating to live here in Israel. So many changes. I feel that here I can conform people and things to my liking rather than having them shape me. I kinda feel like for over 30 years I've been swimming through muddy waters looking for a place where I belong. My home. It's a certain comfort that's taking me back to times I used to dream big and felt I can change things.  All this seems possible again. In a way I feel like the only person living on earth. This because I am very much in my own world. Different I am and I care not. I feel misunderstood but it really doesn't phase me as I can't expect a herd to understand why they're being herded. People in this country see some sort of novelty in me because I did Aliyah. Whenever I mention it to people I get tangled in an exchange of words that  lasts long as fuck. Also, I think people here feel Americans are easily led on or taken advantage of.  Here I am, home from work, music blasting, reminiscing. Not long ago Danman asked me if I miss NY and was surprised when my reply was "fuck no".

Thursday, November 17, 2011


When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in GRASS VALLEY, CA. It was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. 

One nurse took her copy to Missouri. 

The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Crabby Old Man... 
What do you see nurses? . . ... . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . .. . . . Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .... . . . . With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . . .. . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice .. .. . .... . The things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . .. . .. . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . .... . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . .. . You're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am. . . . .... . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . .. . As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .. . . .. With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . .. ... .. Who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. With wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . ... A lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . .. My heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . That I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . .... . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other .. . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons . . ... . . Have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . To see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children .. . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . Shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . .... . . . Young of their own.
And I think of the years .. . . .. . And the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . ..... And nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . Where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . ... . Life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . ... Gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . .. . . That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . ... . Open and see.
Not a crabby old man . ... . . Look closer . .. . See ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. 

We will all, one day, be there, too!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Ego Sum In Diligo

Whenever asked why it is I don't smile often I am reminded of the shit that i try to forget in regards to what goes on in this world. The act of not smiling often or of not being happy-go-lucky, like my dog, isn't caused by some recent thought or immediate occurrence much more so than it is by the manifestation of a jaded depression. Absolutely sickens me to see Mayor Bloomberg throw around his cronie cops arresting and abusing innocent people that see through the tint people like the Bilderbergs plastered around  them as if saying "alright you had your little time to have fun here in Zucotti park now go home you little vagrants". It sucks to say this but we need to beat some people in congress and the senate much like the Libyans did when they captured Qadafi until they accept the change that's coming. I don't agree with the majority saying peaceful protesting is the way to go. Our governments (worldwide) should be taken back from whence they've strayed, the  American way, with numbers and guns.  On a lighter note - definitely going through some chemical changes here in the holy land. I'm pretty sure I know who the culprit is... Life feels more real. I can say with confidence that I will move and shake things in this little country.Gut feeling.


Tuesday, November 08, 2011

Good Things

I've been saying it's been a while since I've felt the way I do. Truth is I never felt this way. Although crap from the past is still somewhat covering up (like resin) the feeling of ecstatic happiness I know I want to feel because of where I currently stand, still, I see amazing things and great times lying ahead. Never before have I met someone who I seriously feel can compliment me well in the years to come, one who I feel may be a good mother to my kids. It is an exciting and at the same time wonderful thing to have had this happen to me so soon into my integration here. I imagine the content on this blog may just be influenced by this beautiful person in the future.