Talk About Pointless..

Unveiled earlier this year, the latest generation of atomic clocks have an accuracy of +/-1 second every 200 million years - as opposed to the previous, 80 million years. Now there's a relief!

Jerusalem Elections - A Test of Rationality (please vote!)

Resident Traveler's definition of campaigning: the process of a party or candidate disseminating the lies they think will get them the most votes.

While this is true of all political campaigns, none have exemplified this more than the Porush campaign. His numerous lame attempts to buy votes through hollow verbiage is a test of basic rationality I pray we don't fail.

The Porush campaign has been nothing short of an insult to intelligence. Putting a little santa-claus image of him is entirely beneath the adult, voting population. Promising thousands of jobs - which is as simple as designing a poster that says "thousands of new jobs!" and then posting them all over town, with no accountability - is no less an insult. It's tempting to run myself, just say I can draw up posters of "Free jacuzzis for all Jerusalem residents!" or "100,001 residents will return".

While Barkat has quietely been doing things to better the face of this city, the Porush campaign pulls out every kind of fallacious argument, effectively saying, "the people are stupid - they'll buy this crap". If he wins, it means we've failed this test. Please vote!

House, M.E.

2-3 years after the rest of the world, I've finally caught up with the series "House, M.D." The bits and pieces I had seen of it before led me to severe bias against the show, what with the rapid-fire, "too cool to be real" dialog and the beautiful people on screen. "Blech," I thought, "more American non-realistic drivel." But now that I've finally been watching it - and this only applies through season 2, hoping it doesn't go down hill! - I think the series, and the character of House in particular, are sheer genius.

It would be way too long for me to go into all the qualities I think make the series so good, but there's one aspect in particular I find myself relating to so much - House's repeated ducking of redemption. He will forego emotion, wrestle with his leg and pill addiction, never actually say a kind word to anyone, etc. If you've watched the series, it's referenced directly many times. But the beauty of the series is in setting up your expectations that he may be saved. After all, the other characters are all so much more emotional.. or emotive. There's subtle humor to soften you as you watch. The characters are beautiful. So you kind of assume that in the thick of it all, House himself will finally be saved. Surely, in the season finale he'll be cured. Or realize something life changing. or fall in love. But the brilliant scriptwriters never allow it to happen.

Oh, how I saympathise. Maybe you've been there - in your 30s, relationship dry spell, somewhat hyperactive mind - or maybe your mind just goes hyperactive because you've been living on your own so long that? On those nights with nothing special to do, you begin analyzing yourself psychologically. and analyzing the fact that you're analayzing yourself. and ideas come and go. they seem so important until the next time a little distraction comes along and you forget all about it. Unless it's 4AM and you think, whilst in the shower, "I've got to get this feeling down." True story - I'm sure you've guessed...

If you're in a situation anywhere near this, maybe you also feel torn. I've spent the last several years unwittingly striking some sort of delicate balance between an almost blind worship of the purely rational - House style, to a degree - yet carrying some hope of redemption. That a truly major change is just around the corner... or maybe a little further on, but it's coming. Meanwhile, of course, my "purely" rational intellect is reminding me this is all nonsense, and that the quicker I put aside these passive hopes and focus on some personal building, then maybe there's some chance of this all not being in vain. But no matter what happens - I mustn't ever, ever count on it. because that's just plain folly. Not now. not after I'm 30, and still nothing big has changed. and no love to be seen.

So House strikes a very deep chord with me. As a series, it fully recognizes the power of these hopes - without poo-pooing them. in fact, it builds you up to believe in their worth. Just as you're primed to really feel something, House will always manage to evade his own happiness. If the opportunity arrises, he'll mess it up; generally, his mind will make sure he doesn't even get that far.

It's just a tv show, I know. But catch me at a certain time, in a certain disposition, and I'll feel just like that. screwed, lost, and trying to rationalize my way away from it. Away, never out of it.


P.S.

After watching season 3, I realize I must've come off as an especially arrogant bastard. It contains an already solidified - and expressly referenced - view of House as near-infallible, genuinely arrogant, and relatively comfortable in loneliness. I didn't mean to compare myself to any of this. Avid viewers with a good memory may recall that none of those were certain in the first couple of seasons. To clarify, my empathy concerned only the "earlier" House, when some kind of redemption still appeared possible and welcome (and the arrogance still appeared a defence mechanism), and had nothing to do with his ostensible brilliance...

Palm Desert

"Oh, that's not good.."

"What, what happened?"

"Your palms.. it's not a good sign." She'd read my palms a long time ago. Got quite a bit right, as well. Blind luck...

Just that moment, someone walked in the room, and she turned to engage them in some mundane conversation. I hesitated for a moment, but decided to let it go. A few minutes later, she got ready to leave.

"That's it? You're just going to leave me hanging like this?"

"Well, ok.. but do you really want to discuss it in this forum?"

"Come, I'll walk you out." A few paces down the hall, I was all ears.

"no, it's just that I saw you have some frustration."

"You got that from across the room? wha..?"

"Yeah, I could see it. Some kind of deep frustration, like something isn't progressing as it should, or isn't going the right way."

I was stunned. "Sometimes you scare me with how well you read this stuff."

"Do you want to.."

"No. Bye, see you tomorrow."

About me #3: Romance Is in the Mundane

["About me" posts, despite their name, are meant to have some relevancy to the reader as well. you can see my introduction to them here, though this now reads to me as somewhat out of date and borderline naive. But hey, tradition is tradition, right?]

A few days ago, I was sitting at a cafe¹ and suddenly found myself in the throws of the aforementioned existential angst (just the angst, though - not the sweaty bit. :) ). Then, outside, a young woman walked by on the street². Moderately attractive. Warm face, energetic gait.

As she passed by, for a split second, she gave me a wide smile - or so I thought. Her face quickly fell back to normal walking-down-the-street blank look. She must have mistaken me for someone else, or seen a passing acquaintance of hers behind me. Still, the effects on me were surprisingly powerful - in that split second, my heart swelled. I felt elated. It was amazing to me how one stranger's smile could snap me so quickly and easily out of what can only be described as a proper, 17th-century-philosopher-with-an-abusive-upbringing-and- undetermined-substance-abuse-problem style bout of depression.

This got me wondering. For one thing, it certainly gave kind of a ridiculous air to the mood I was in. There I was, allegedly grappling with all these difficult questions, feeling downcast, and one stranger's glance pops me right out of it!³ But this was more than just simple excitement at attention. It was exciting because it was unprompted. Her intent, in fact, had little to with it - as became clear a second later. It was a slight gesture that came about for no apparent reason, but it was glorious. There's a pattern here with me - I love the unprompted, small gesture. It's genuine.

I love spontaneous goofiness - as much as I love momentary impatience for it. Because, again, it's genuine. It isn't contrived. This comes across in other facets as well. Not long ago, I was in an unsure dating phase with someone. I was having a good time with her, but wasn't quite sure whether it could go anywhere. There would often be a somewhat formal air to the proceedings, and the conversation would hover around the obvious. The breakthrough moment came, ironically, when she revealed her doubts, as did I. That was the moment we both felt far more intimate, again - because voicing one's concerns is undoubtedly real. And there's something quite romantic about two people at that level of comfort with each other.


Let me spin this the other way: I've noticed I have a really hard time with planned events. I find the notion of a planned holiday, for example, quite stressful, because so much is at stake! It seems to me almost doomed to failure because we pin so many hopes on them, they can't possibly live up to the expectations! Same with weddings, parties etc. I'm not trying to say by any stretch that I don't enjoy planned events, occasions or travel; only that when I do, it's almost invariably not their planned aspects that I've enjoyed. It's the small stories that mean so much to me. Every wedding has had it's kooky little story, far removed from the official proceedings. Every trip abroad gave more insight at the trucker's stop than at the tourist attraction. and it's often the least planned events that turn out fun, because everyone has to improvise. It's real. It's not a preplanned Kodak Moment.


So I often find myself moved - truly moved, I'm not exaggerating - by the mundane. Not in the tree hugging way. I don't mean admiring the beauty of nature or the miracle of birth etc. - not that there's anything wrong with that.. - but simply appreciating small human moments. The idea of this person giving a total stranger a glance, practically moved me to tears. Meeting someone simply, falling in love with them simply, the notion of 90% of your time together being fairly routine - I actually find all that terribly romantic. I think not having some teriffic story about how you met, is just as good a story as a "good" one.


The other day, I was moved by the fact that a group of my close friends were genuinely excited to watch a film widely considered to be the worst of all time. It spoke volumes to me. I felt so fortunate to have friends like that, that are aware of - and actively voice - the absurdities of life, and are quite happy to swim within them. Obviously, there's no end to the examples but.. you get the idea.


The simplest definition I've heard for happiness is perceived reality minus expectation. When the latter is sky-high, it's going to be awfully difficult to be happy. I feel the film and television industries have really set the bar high for us. The one-upmanship in creating the most incredible on-screen action/suspense/extreme and, especially, romantic moments have made it so easy to (dis)miss the gems going on in our day-to-day lives.


I know he meant something else entirely, but when Ian Brown sang "Keep what you've got / by giving it all away", I like to think he wasn't talking about possessions, but rather about lofty expectations.




¹ Yes, they actually have those in Jerusalem! In fact, we've got lots of them! Let it never be said this blog is without its educational merit. ;)

² Some of you may be thinking, "really? Jerusalem actually has cafes with stylish full-glass walls facing the street? Not the gaudy styled ones, but the ones actually done in good taste? Isn't that too.. I don't know.. cosmopolitan for Jerusalem?" Well, yes we do and no it isn't, I'm glad you asked (thought?). Reputation aside, Jerusalem has some pretty cool nightlife (is my point).

³ DISCLAIMER - I'm a pretty normal guy. Really. This was just the sort of blue mood we all get from time to time. Don't want to be giving off the impression like I'm some manic depressive or anything..

The Existential Swamp Monster

Sometimes the simplest things bring you down to earth.

It's my birthday today - 30th. These past few days have had me thinking quite intently on where I am, where I'm going, what will be, what won't be. Existentialist pondering alongside existential angst. Coincidentally, I'd also thrown together a whole long post on where I stand in my romantic view, somewhat altered from where I stood a year ago. So it felt like something important was going on. Suddenly, this 30th birthday seemed fraught with meaning.

Had a big conference at work. Those there with me know by now that those sorts of events are when I whip out the stops and actually dress nicely for work. So there I was, looking sharp, feeling fairly "important". Had the opportunity to set aside my thought and just focus on the tasks at hand, and I was feeling fairly good about it all. It didn't hurt that there were some good-looking members of the opposite sex there as well - and one in particular I was hoping to impress with my casual interest dotting the constant calls to duty. Soooo authoritative.

At the tail end of the day, as I walked back to go home, one of the workers exclaimed, "wow, you've really been working hard." "Yeah, you've noticed?" I asked. "Well, I can see - you've been running around with those giant sweat stains!" For the first time that day, I got a look at a mirror. I'd been spending that day feeling like hot s%!t - all the while looking like a swamp monster!

At first, I was embarrassed as hell. Then I just kinda had to laugh. Happy 30th, me.

Midnight, on a Bench, ____ Street

It feels pointless at moments, like I'm on display. But then again - so is everyone else. We're even on that score.

On select moments within the daily humdrum, when I free my mind enough to think, I feel a vague sensation of trying to unravel this big riddle. Except it's too difficult. Requires too much sustained concentration. So like a Rubik's Cube wasted on the impatient, I toss the riddle aside, figuring I'll chip away at it some other time. But each time, I'm starting from scratch.

Tonight I'm alone.

The weather is perfect. Light breeze. Cool, not cold. It's a special experience. stretches of noise, cars whizzing by, punctuated by moments of silence. Relief. It's not them that I'm here for, though.

Random moments in people's lives: young, religious girl helping her grandmother down the street; hip Jerusalemites, with their 3/4 pants and sandals, congregating outside some bar - discussing their big travels, big career plans and, of course, the big soccer match; a solitary young woman in colorful shuk garb shows up on the horizon, grows larger and larger as she comes near, then past me and into the car; the obvious first-date couple, "uhhhh"-ing away at each other through their best attempts at a natural grin; the smokers, communicating by proximity rather than language, like a pack of cats on a lazy afternoon; the mad biker, going for a speed record whilst pulling off a wheelie. But by and large, each and every person is in a box and outside of it. Ultimately indescribable.

Then comes someone I know.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"So, you like sitting on this bench?"

"Oh, no. I'm waiting for someone.."

Eureka!

Rarely will I simply link to an article without, at least, some sort of (long-winded?) comment. But this one pretty much sums it up.

Nice to know I'm not alone!

It's So Easy to Forget...

Each and every person in front of you is a person, not the sum result of all your generalized theories.

You're looking for that special someone, not that special cross-section of society.

Nahlaot Purim Street Party

So much girl, so little woman.

Things I'd Never Ever Say

"Look, you and I - we're businessmen.."

"All this violence. Why can't we just get along?"

"I hear Brangelina.."

"Wow, you guys were great! Very Pink Floyd-meets-Madonna..."

"It's not what you say, it's how you say it. Seriously."

"Don't worry. I'm sure the government will take care of it."



Things I may (sadly) never say:

"I do."

"Funny, we've been asked that a lot lately - but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait for the next album..."

"It's got 4 wheels, it was made after 2000, and it's mine!"

"It's got 4 rooms, the location's great, and it's ours!"

"Considered Selling Your Apartment?" Asked the Devil..

I rent an apartment in Jerusalem. Came home today to find this letter (in Hebrew) on my door handle:

"Dear bla bla,

have you considered selling your apartment? We [are thieving bastards who want to make a killing off your already overpriced apartment, and] would be happy to help you. After years on the rise, real estate prices have reached an unprecedented peak [allowing your greed to far outstrip what you actually need to return your original investment and make a comfortable living]. The recovery from recession; the booming economy [which hasn't raised real wages by even one seventh of the rise in Jerusalem apartment prices over the last 2 years]; stronger European currencies against the Dollar; purchase of apartments by diaspora Jewry - all these have contributed to the sharp climb in prices we are witnessing.

Our market analysis shows us that this is the time for you to optimally realize your assets and sell your apartment during a period of record prices. [..] We specialize in [the non-crap areas of Jerusalem, soon to be another Manhattan.]

We would be happy to visit your apartment, offer a price estimate [..] survey recently sold apartments in the area [and contribute to an additional, artificial increase of real-estate pricing by encouraging you and other homeowners to sell for much more than you might have otherwise. In a sense, we're "unionizing" home owners to take maximum advantage of the psychological element of these soaring prices, which is great for our real estate agency and terrible for the forever non-"unionized", individual renter] and help sell your apartment for maximum price [which we helped raise by encouraging greed through letters such as these.]

Love, hugs and kisses,

bla bla Real Estate Agency"


Jerusalem municipality: BUILD BUILD BUILD*. This can't go on.



*as in, approve building plots.




(P.S.
This is not in any way an endorsement of socialism over capitalism, nor a call for market intervention. It merely represents my distaste for what I consider (justifiably legal) greed.)

"Every Man a Matchmaker." And?

(I'll start by pointing out that I'm not religious. Just FYI... Still, I come from a traditional home, haven't an ounce of "anti", and get by just fine with my religious friends. Put another way, I'm not particularly gagging to move to Tel Aviv. :) )

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach has been named "the most famous rabbi in America" by Newsweek. I first ran into his name through reviews of his bestseller Kosher Sex which, at the time, screamed "sensationalist" to me. I've since come to see he's got some good ideas up his sleeve, even if - like so many other self-anointed saviors - he often states what should be the obvious. His expansion of what "attraction" means, beyond the surface-level denotation it has today, is remarkably important, especially to the many guilt-ridden religious people out there. I take issue, though, with his last syndicated article, "Every Man a Matchmaker", which ran in this weekend's Jerusalem Post.

The article certainly makes for a good read, and though he's mainly writing to religious Jewish singles here, much of his descriptions will sound familiar to singles of all stripes. Boteach gives a reasonably accurate, if somewhat simplistic, overview of the reasons singles today aren't getting married (or at least not to the right person).

The first part of the problem, as Boteach sees it, lies with today's "shallow values" (his words). He claims these have penetrated "even" the "very Orthodox dating scene, where stick-thin women are paired up to young men from wealthy families, and where character is subordinated to pedigree." As he goes on to say, "In the secular world, of course, it's much worse." So, in short - it's a crisis of values. I'll get back to this later.

He then goes on to paint an amusing picture of the dire options facing the average single - covering singles parties, bars, speed dating, internet dating and matchmaking - and ruling them out. In one particularly sharp observation, he writes:

"Speed-dating is one of the most puzzling relationship ideas to come along in years. Take a generation of commitment-phobic young people, who are already dating-addicts and love anorexics, and cater to their obsession for variety by having them date 10 people at once! What wonderful preparation for monogamy!"

The second part of the problem, then, lies with flawed options for how to meet people.

Having set out such a frank overview, I had high hopes for whatever solution he was going to come up with. Must say I found it more than a little disappointing. The solution, he claims, is having everyone play matchmaker:

"Every man and every woman must take it upon themselves to introduce the single people they know to each other. We all believe in giving charity and we all believe in acts of loving-kindness. Now, is there any higher act of kindness than curing someone else's loneliness?"

That's it? After having systematically ruled out the other possibilities as inherently flawed to the point of pointlessness, he's going with the friend-brings-friend system? A quick look around my hometown shows that this system is at least as flawed as any of the others he finds fault with. (You'll either have to trust me on this or read the article, if you haven't yet. Go! Read! it's not long.) Jerusalem's infamous "swamp", that area of neighborhoods teeming with semi-cool, semi-desperate religious 20-somethings, has everyone busy matchmaking all the time, with plenty of still-frustrated singles complaining about feeling smothered, seeing the same old faces, feeling it's all a bit too forced. My point isn't that this system is bad, only that it has its own problems, and isn't fundamentally better than the rest.

So what's my solution, you ask? Well, as far as what options to go for, I just say - whatever you're comfortable with. Diversify. I wouldn't fundamentally endorse any technique over another - odds are fairly low no matter what you do - but you can try to enjoy yourself while you're looking.

As for the main problem, I agree with Rabbi Boteach that at heart, it's those "shallow values". I do take issue, however, with his off-hand assumption that the problems are "much worse" in the secular culture. I would say they're different, but not "much worse". The secular problems are quite widely known, so let me just point out one problem I see quite often in the religious world: many of them seem paralyzed by the sheer gravity of it all. They have more guilt for lusting, since they ought to be "caring about the inside". They can't touch, yet are dying too. But mainly, every encounter becomes incredibly decisive - since marriage is such an immediate, pressing concern. This brings a tendency to focus on every flaw in the other person - "do I want to live my whole life with this person? I should decide now" - and to measure every word, instead of just enjoying oneself and giving the relationship some breathing-space.

Obviously, for many if not most religious singles this isn't the case, and people handle it differently. The imperative to marry can bring more "results", but it can also paralyze. I am not generalizing, only saying it does happen, and more often than Boteach seems to think. "Shallow values" may be slightly more acute among the secular, but religious singles certainly have problems of their own in this "get-married-now" ethos.

So how do we deal with shallow values? Well, they're all around us, so the battle becomes quite individual. A proper answer would be quite long, but as time goes on, I feel more and more that the gist of it is: by growing up.

In Praise of (Single) Womankind

This isn't going to be some feminist manifesto, nor some teenage-y "grrrls do it better" populist blather. It won't be in praise of any "innate" multitasking abilities at child-rearing or home keeping (it's not anyway), emotional depth, ability for compassion, "fairer sex" theories etc. The fact of the matter is, I haven't lived with you, nor been in a long-term relationship with you. I'm going to write from the only angle I have - that of perennial single-guy.

This can be saddening and disheartening at times. But only now am I finally settling down to realize that through it all, even with the disappointments and perplexing acts of self-contradiction, irrationality and occasional cruelty, it's always been fun. It's always been thrilling to get the attention from those of you that have given it. Even when it's felt badly mismatched - and I've gotten pretty good at weeding those out beforehand - It's always been interesting. I say this at eye level, not cynically and not arrogantly: thank you. Besides music, I know of nothing else nearly as life-affirming.

Keep driving me nuts. I'm open.

Recovering Romantic?

I'm either a recovering romantic or a realist with a romanticism problem.

Scratch that - cliched as it may be, I think it's both.

"Swing Swing" Goes the Pendulum

After the last, gloomy post, hope for the future has been somewhat restored... It doesn't take much to put a smile back on my face after all. :)

Apologies for the cry wolf...

"I Was Wasting My Time..."

"I was wasting my time trying to fall in love
disappointment came to me and booted me and bruised and hurt me"

"I was wasting my time praying for love /
For the love that never comes from someone who does not exist."

- Morrissey, "That's How People Grow Up"

Many years ago, when I was a kid, I remember discovering what I thought was the most ingenious time-saving technique: when looking to cross a street and the crosswalk light was red, I could save time by walking towards the destination on my side of the street, while keeping an eye out for the next green light. Brilliant! I felt quite pleased with myself. "Now I'm a man," I metaphorically said, "I've unlocked the last of life's mysteries. There is no more knowledge left to be discovered!" Hey, waddaya want? I was like 8 or something..

For the past few years - and I think I'm not alone among bachelors my age - I've essentially been using this trick where relationships were concerned. During my many dry spells, I sort of figured I could make up for future lost time by at least accruing wisdom. I'd listen to my friends' tales of marvelous successes and horrible failures, observe, read, concoct hypotheses, theorize; and maybe, maybe - I'd be that much smarter for when it was my "turn". I'd know what to look out for. I'd have picked up some advice without paying the price others have. I'd circumvent the so-common disastrous relationship, and skip to the real deal. So sure, maybe I'd lose out on the wonderful turbulent-yet-romantic crosswalk of 20-something love, but I'd still be strolling across from it on my end of the street, gazing patiently, ready to leap straight into "good relationship" - whatever that means - as soon as I would pass by a green-lighted crosswalk.

The problem with that idea is that it presupposed I'd hit a green light at some point. To be honest - I'm getting less and less sure. This isn't a desperation thing- not some impending-30s crisis or neighbor's-greener-grass complex - nor an expression of lack of self-confidence, it's simply an attempt to realign expectations with reality. The assumption that "you'll find someone", "every pot has its lid" etc. just ain't working out for this novel-in-progress.

In the past, I've always had my deep-set optimism to rely on to snap me out of these thoughts. Lately, however, it hasn't been happening: where once I could see where a potential window of opportunity might emerge, I've lately been feeling that I've well and truly maxed out my options. Even the old drive that would push me out of the house, which I've alluded to all over this blog, even on the very first post - isn't there. It feels pointless after so many past nights out on the town, only around one hundredth of which made it to these pages. Everything's still in place, and I'm the same person I've always been, but one thing's changed - my optimism.

As I told a friend recently, if romance is earth, I'm feeling like Voyager 2, floating away on an entirely different trajectory.

OK, I'll quit my whining now...