Of course I bought the loyalty pendant for Bibi.
Not only that, the gilded I wear, a gold pendant for a man of gold.
The loyalty pendant to Sarah is worn by my wife, who is very attached, the loyalty pendant to Yair is worn by the daughter, the pendant to Avner is worn by the second daughter, and the loyalty pendant to Noa, his first from the first marriage, is worn by my daughter from my first marriage.
Bull came out.
Evening after evening we sit down to eat Arabic food under the picture of the great and humble leader, who did say - you don't need a loyalty pendant, loyalty to values is enough, but we, simple people, are not satisfied with abstract and general values, we want a figure to hold on to, to be inspired by, to take from With us wherever we go.
We also knew that he said - you don't need a pendant to shut up the small-minded people, because they don't have anyone suitable for a pendant, but see on him that it flatters him, and just as he compliments us for his loyalty, so we compliment him for his leadership.
Do not remove the pendant in the shower either, even though rinsing has started to peel off.
After the meal the ceremony begins.
We made a kind of small shrine in the living room like this - a picture, flowers, incense, fruit, and we sit around, I dip a Kohiva 56 cigar in a quantum liqueur, turn it on and off immediately, it's hard for me to stand at 700 shekels every night, but that's what it tastes like.
It has tremendous flavor.
The combination of the smoke of the cigar with the oranges of the liqueur remained in the mouth for hours.
My wife and daughters sip a pink Moat and greetings - Blessed is he who gives strength to his believers.
Then we go out to demonstrate in front of houses that Birdy marks on the map.
When I was a kid I was a fan.
Especially footballers from Hapoel Jerusalem.
I bought gifts out of pocket money, collected signatures, attended every workout.
Until once I went without prior arrangement to the house of my most revered actor, Eli Ben Rimoz the great, and the above opened the door for me in my underwear. I understood, flesh and blood and underwear, that's how we all are. About something I think someone has and I don't have. What an inhuman greatness. Admiration always ends in tears, and admiration of politicians often ends in tragedy. This one is for purchase here.
role
With a big role also comes a big responsibility.
And while most of us will not reach the rank of national leaders, almost each and every one of us gets, sometimes even every day, to lead the line at the traffic light, stand first and determine how much time will pass between the appearance of the green light and the start of traffic.
Serious responsibility.
However, those who stand first in line to spit will spend the longest time waiting, so, the braking has not yet been completed - and already the phone finds our sheathe, and the finger wanders between pieces of information, looking to kill time.
Waking up from the dream is always unpleasant, beeping from the second car in line, since it is known that in science there is no short period of time that can be measured as the period of time between the appearance of the yellow light and the siren.
And if the second car is also engrossed in its affairs, and the third sometimes lingers, the exit from the red is delayed for several long seconds, and the vision of a driver waking up to his duty at the last second of the green and somehow managing to escape, leaving behind a grumpy column for another cycle - is very common.
I like the South Koreans.
They have smart solutions to a lot of little problems.
For example, we fixed there that the green light for pedestrians whose eyes are stuck on the phone will also appear on the sidewalk, so that they can see and walk.
And here it is worth refining and installing a vibrating stop line that shakes the wheels of the first car when the moment of truth arrives, and launches it on its way without any delay.
I have already registered a patent.
And while I'm perfecting the vibrating stop line I'm reading a new book, "Look for good eyes" by Naama Mozes, which tells the story of the injury and killing of a young scooter rider without a helmet by a normal female driver, who was only distracted for a second from the road in favor of a small phone call.
A ripping book.
It breaks the heart and tears the silence that there is when it comes to the feelings of the offending drivers.
Not all of them are habitual criminals, there are also people like us, who for a moment believed that what happens on the road is predictable and therefore it is possible to go to the phone, to do only something small and seemingly necessary.
We go with the heroine of the book all the way from the accident, through the investigation, the trial, the demonstrations of the victim's family and his friends, the rift in her own family, to the prison and the exit from it.
Since I read the book, for a few days now, I have been especially careful that it does not happen to me.
The phone was completely removed from me while driving, and I was constantly alert.
This way I can also faithfully fill the role of queue leader at the traffic light, which prepares me for higher leadership roles.
Do not be surprised to hear soon about interesting essays.
Briefcase
As you read these words I will no longer be with you.
Maybe I’ll be on vacation in the Netherlands as I planned, or maybe I’ll look for my belongings and myself at some airport somewhere.
I know, it's not time to fly, but such an opportunity to travel doesn't fall on a person every day, and since I'm not working at the moment - I thought that maybe one day I'll be away from the country's borders for more than three days.
So here I am in the Netherlands, with family, looking for something to do.
They said - he who takes care of his suitcase, will leave it at home.
A suitcase that takes off for a flight is like a loaf of bread launched over the water.
You may find yourself in the future, most likely not.
It is best to arrive only with a trolley.
distress.
Anyone who knows me knows that I do not leave my house to stay in another hostel without my pillow.
Hotel and hostel pillows are too swollen or flattened, too soft or too tough, too dirty and too used.
I'm taking my pillow with me.
but there is a problem.
My pillow is stuffed with buckwheat husks, what is known as a "soba" pillow.
It’s basically a small bag of shells, quite heavy, rustling at bedtime, but more comfortable than any peacock feather pillow I’ve ever tried.
This pillow is just the size of a trolley.
That is, if I take it with me - I will not have room for a toothbrush.
If I do not take her - I will be awake for two weeks on European soil.
what will I do?
I asked my 8-year-old daughter, who holds the sewing bag at home, to open the pillow, take out most of the shells, leave some of them, and re-sew.
And so she did.
And here I have a tiny, tiny pillow, like a bag of 200 grams of black kernels, with buckwheat husks.
I have a feeling I will be arrested at the airport for attempted smuggling, and you will explain the findings.
Yes, yes, of course you're sleeping on it, and I'm sleeping on an ecstasy pill pill, the blond cop will say while handcuffed and lead me on an adventure in a Dutch prison.
And I'm also pleased with the brilliant solution, Bat-Kol came out in the newspaper - trolls also go to the belly of the plane, and they too disappear forever.
You should take the important luggage in a small backpack.
And further I shrink my belongings into a bag, I have heard that bags also disappear and it is worth taking only what goes in the pockets, otherwise Allah will hide what you will have in Schiphol.
And here I am, with some buckwheat in my pockets, flying with my family on a re-equipping holiday in the Netherlands.
I will share with you what is happening to us here in the following columns, until we return laden with Gouda cheese in the pocket of the little money.
avrigilad@gmail.com
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