One day, a long time ago, when we were 11th graders, we received an invitation to an event called a "core meeting". It said that a group of our youth movement trainees was starting to form to go out together to serve in Nahal.
The offer winked at me.
I loved the songs of the Nahal band. The word "holding on" had a magical effect on me. I was the son of a proud Nahal, and above all I had no other idea for military service.
It so happened that one evening we arrived at a nice apartment in Netanya.
There were guys there I didn't know.
Most of them seemed fine to me, some were funny.
The girls were more serious, and some of them are really beautiful.
I don't remember what we talked about there and where it went, but without realizing it 40 years and a little more have passed since then, and these guys are my second family.
We were together in the kibbutz and in the army.
We didn't always agree with the strange idea of a sickle and a sword, but we herded sheep in the "Mitzpe Netufa" holding in the Galilee and served in the Nahal Parachute Battalion in Lebanon. We called each other "Banga" and "Batga" (short for Ben Gerin and Bat Gerin). Some of us, like me , remained in the kibbutz for years. Most of them went their separate ways on the day of liberation. But to this day we are friends. When one of us needs help, encouragement or good advice, he will probably call some Banga.
Not long ago we met, as we do once every six months.
Of course we repeated the same jokes and sang the same songs.
Here and there someone showed off the pounds they shed or pictures of their grandchildren.
But we all admitted that it was unthinkable, back when we first set out, that we would not build a new settlement, but build a family for ourselves.
Only without the family dramas.
There are religious and secular, married and divorced among us.
Right and left voters.
No one left the country.
And listen to this: we all learned over the years to love each other more than we did back then, when we were in the kibbutz or in the army.
Someone threw that it's a shame our kids didn't build a nucleus.
And everyone agreed that it would be nice if every citizen in the country had a little less friends on the net, fewer WhatsApp groups, and in their place some Nahal nucleus that goes with you for many years, until you have no choice but to understand and love those who understand and love you more than anyone else.
On the morning of Tisha B'Av I was seriously debating what to wear.
On the one hand, I was supposed to attend the event at the president's house, and even go on stage.
There's no way I'll end up like Schlumper, or as my mother used to say with disdain - "like Closhar";
On the other hand, Tisha B'av.
The day of mourning for the fact that our ancestors failed to establish a nucleus.
Some of the photogenic mourning customs are precisely about trying to look like someone who is neglecting himself with grief.
A combination of stubble, tattered canvas shoes and a lack of caffeine - does the trick.
But the president's house!
Indeed, a dilemma.
And so reflections and counter-reflections rolled in my head.
About the right that fell to us to debate at all.
Because although the house was destroyed long ago, Jerusalem is built like it has never been built before.
And it is true that there is no king, but there is statehood, and if there is no election house then there is the house of representatives, the courts and the president's house, and also some not bad cafes.
And I really wouldn't mind picking up a strong reverse for the road.
But Titus... and free hate... may their name perish.
And while I was running my hand over the traditional Av Chodesh stubble, which gives me the heartwarming appearance of a legitimate target for targeted thwarting, I remembered that the president, Yitzhak Herzog, himself did international PR this year and it was not bad at all for the Jewish grieving elder.
And in general, in recent years, stubble is completely legitimate.
That's how I ended up walking the middle path of the Leviticus. Bristle and canvas shoes - and in the middle ironed clothes. Who said anything could be simple in this life?!
I've already stopped counting how many years I've been doing this.
Participates in the anxious events of Tisha B'av.
Small or large events, always in the presence of many teenagers.
Conversations that focus less on the distant past, on the first or second house, and more on our house, the "third".
The eternal fear that we haven't changed.
that we learned nothing.
That there is some defect in the Jewish head, a destructive bug in the operating system that does not allow us to possess what other peoples have is almost trivial.
A bug that also makes us forget too quickly what takes us an eternity and a half to understand.
Over the years, I discovered that some of the lovable speakers who sat next to me on speaking platforms preached one thing, and actually did the complete opposite.
Over time, I developed a suspicious attitude towards sweet and empty talk about unity and "free love" (what is that anyway?), and I started asking people what they themselves are willing to give up, what principle that is sacred to them they are willing to dance for the sake of the peace of the third house, and take at least a step back.
It was Yossi Banai who used to quote his mother's words, that every time a Jew says "make peace in his high places, he will make peace on us" - he usually takes three steps back.
President Herzog returned and expressed concern about the upcoming election.
I don't think anyone in the hall disagreed with his words that elections not only sharpen our differences of opinion, but also stir up old hatreds.
It is true, even established democratic regimes of our own, and with a glorious parliamentary tradition, suffer lately from instability, and especially from a tendency to deny the very legitimacy of the opponent, to silence him or to make him disappear from the field.
They say it's because of the networks.
The alienation of the screen generation.
But whoever wants to take comfort in the fact that we are not alone, then good luck to him.
But in the meantime I have a proposal that will of course never be accepted, but it already manages to stimulate my imagination.
Well, my proposal is based on the thought that we, as the State of Israel, are allowed to be a little different from the rest of the world.
In any case, we are not so successful in thinking inside the box, so maybe it is worth devoting ourselves to thinking outside it.
I am honored to suggest that in the upcoming election each voter will have to cast two ballots: one of them (white background?) for the party that will represent my views and my worldview.
On the other note (economy background?) - who is the representative I would like to represent the views and worldviews that I completely disagree with.
The weight of the economic note will be about a third or a quarter of the weight of the main note, but an envelope with one note in it will be rejected.
Also, an envelope will be disqualified if the two notes inside are not opposite each other.
Thus, for example, every right-wing voter will be asked to choose which of the left-wing parties he would prefer to see in the Knesset: Meretz, Labor or the Joint.
Every Lieberman voter will decide between Shas, the Hasidim or the Lithuanians. And so on.
In this strange election system, every elected official, even from the fringes of the opposition, will know that he works even for those who do not believe in his way.
He should not, of course, lie in his heart, flatter or represent them, but it certainly does not pay him to incite against them or deny their very legitimacy.
The voters themselves may also have to rethink.
The proposal, I admit, is a little immature and very delusional.
It is in its infancy, of course, and the legal team (which I don't have) is already working on the more detailed version.
But to tell the truth, I have yet to hear a less bad proposal.
Were we wrong?
We will fix it!
If you found an error in the article, we would appreciate it if you shared it with us