Almost Jewish.  Before I even get to the title of this entry, “internet entry”. Let’s call it that instead of a blog. Judging by my time in between writings it has clearly become apparent that the word ‘blogging” had defeated me.  But I’m ready to get back on the horse.  And the horse I’m sitting on today is a chair at the coffee bean.  Today I become that person I never wanted to become.  The one that sits at the coffee bean writing on their computer.  I have chosen a seat in a corner, hidden by a wall but I’m still here.  I’m still the guy in the corner clicking the keys.

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And so the click begins.  Why am I almost Jewish? I have recently completed a two week stay in Israel and left the country feeling like if I had to choose a religion, I might be leaning toward the Jewish faith.  Why? Good question.  I will say this, I won’t be the orthodox version. I believe the orthodox slant is the slant that doesn’t like to mix meat and cheese.  I don’t trust anyone that is against the cheeseburger.  I stayed at an orthodox hotel in Jerusalem that wouldn’t mix meat and cheese.  They even had a part of the restaurant that served meat, and a part that actually had some cheese.  But they wouldn’t bring a slice of Swiss over to my table.  Swiss is neutral cheese.  Not really hurting anyone.  Please bring me some cheese.  And why do they shun the bread?  That is why I’m okay with Judaism but not the extreme part.  I like the black hats and sideburns, very Outlaw Josey Wales, but I don’t like the no cars on Chabot.

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Chabot!  I started to spell it with an “S” and then I asked a guy at the table next to me how to spell it and he told me it’s “CH” abot. “Lot’s of Jewish friends” he said. Okay.  That’s the one advantage to writing at the Coffee Bean.  If I have a spelling question I can just ask the person at the next table.  What a wonderful sense of community at the coffee bean.  All of us with our computers trying to change the world.  Who am I to judge the others clicking their keys?  We are all trying to create product.  Make the world a better place.  Or at least make some money.  Why am I writing? Because I need to feel I’m doing something before I go spend the rest of a Wednesday golfing.  And I was told by my manager to create “content.” Fine.  Call it what you want.  Today, I create content then golf.  

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Back to Almost Jewish.  It’s not just their fear of cheeseburgers that is keeping me from becoming orthodox… well… maybe it is.  People ask if it’s scary in Israel.  The only time I was scared in Israel was the first night.  Here’s what happened.  Got to Tel Aviv.  Jumped in a rental car.  By the way, this new rental car looked like it had been delivering pizza for a year in the Gaza strip.  It really looked like it had been through a high speed chase.  Quite a bit of body damage.  I walked around the car with the Hertz guy and he had a little clip board with the outline of the car.  Every time I pointed out some damage he sketched it into the drawing.  By the time we got around the car, the drawing was completely sketched in.  It looked like a new car. “Hey, that’s the car I want.  And the color.”

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Drove to Jerusalem.  My buddy and I were quite surprised at the lack of traffic.  No cars.  Just lots of people walking around in black.  Lots of long curls and beards on the boys and girls.  We drove down streets.  Wow.  No traffic.  We were the only car in Jerusalem.  Lots of dirty looks.  Had these people never seen a car before?  Eventually we found our way to our hotel.  Once there we found out that the lack of traffic was due to Chabot.  No cars are allowed to be driven on this holy Jewish day.  And we found out that we were lucky that they didn’t throw stones at the car.  But then it dawned on me.  The rental car was such a piece of shit they must have thought we had already been stoned on the previous street.  Thank you Hertz for looking out for the goys.

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Went to the wailing wall.  This is a wall that has been around for a long time.  This is a wall that all the Jews throughout history have come to and prayed. I put on a little cap and prayed as well.  The wall is filled with little pieces of paper.  You write out a wish and fold it up and stick it in the wall.  Between the hat and my wish I’m pretty sure my life is on track.  I opened a few of the scraps and read some wishes.  Mostly sports car wishes and a few, kill my wife and husband wishes.  Marriage is tough even in Israel.  What else?  I think this is about all I can do from the coffee bean.  The corner I’m in really kind of smells like piss and a German family has taken over the table next to me.  It’s getting loud.  I wonder if I should tell them I’m writing about being almost Jewish. 

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I’m also almost German.  My whole life I thought I was Irish.  Before my mom died I asked her what part of Ireland were we from.  She said I have no Irish in me.  She told me she was Norwegian and my dad’s family was all German.  Thanks for the heads up mom.  My whole life I was telling people I was Irish.  Now I can tell them I’m German and almost Jewish.