Keeping cool

Truth is I am too lazy to argue. At least not about things which seem of minor importance to me. However, from time to time an argument starts in the gym which concerns the TV channel which we all watch - whether we like it or not - and that's when I can't keep my mouth shut. Our Russian trainer usually switches on a Russian channel of light music, which is lively and happy, ideal for encouraging lazy walkers to pick up the speed. But then arrives a man who says he wants the channel changed to Mezzo, which offers classical music only.:

"No", I protest this time completely ready to argue, "classical music we listen to at home with closed eyes, while relaxing in a comfortable chair. Here we listen to THIS kind of music!"

"I don't agree! I won't listen to this shmaltz, this is not music!" He shouts.

Smiling at the day

Sometimes I get up in the morning and the day smiles at me. Usually it is the other way around which means I try to smile at the day so that we become friends. I don't succeed every time, and when I don't, I get out of bed anyway and put on a pair of socks because it's winter and I just don't want to get cold feet. Not literally, nor figuratively, nor any other way...Warm socks really improve my mood!

So this morning the day smiled at me and the socks warmed my feet. Then I suddenly remembered that my phone is out of order, and the day as well as I myself stopped smiling. But then I saw the sun coming up in all its red-golden glory and whether I liked it or not, I smiled again. Still a life without a telephone is only half a life, so I called Eli, he came up did something - I don't know what - and life was good again because I had a working telephone.

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Doughnuts and music

Sometimes a dream doesn't know which road to take and then I wake up.

Like last night. I dreamt that I sat alone at a small table and listened to an orchestra when the band leader stepped forward. He was a very young man whom I did not know. He looked at me and said: "The next song I am going to dedicate to you!"

And that's when I woke up. Darn it, now I would never know which song he wanted to dedicate to me, would it be a new one, an old one, romantic, sentimental, maybe Schubert's Serenade, or  even modern and so terrible hip-hop which I hate, or what? Why can't a dream finish itself and not leave me hanging? It's just as if the dream itself doesn't know where and how to continue, so it solves the problem by waking me up.

It's Hanukka week, our lovely holiday of the miracle, the lights and the doughnuts. I really don't mind the miracle and the lights, but I definitely mind the doughnuts. Wherever I go, whatever I look at ? it's doughnuts and again doughnuts. Is this God's way of challenging His chosen people's willpower?

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