J'lem joy!

You can't hear the sarcasm in my voice. I would like to say that's because it doesn't exist, but sadly, if I were to vocalize "Jerusalem joy!" it would likely come out very sarcastic.

Rah rah Jerusalem and all that, but truth be told, I don't really like the place. I mean Jerusalem is not to be blamed. The poor city is the victim of countless fanatics and other crazies.

The first reason: cold. It's an interesting place though. Everyone told me it's tough to live in Israel and it's true. Especially as a non-citizen. I was sitting on a bus yesterday with the butt of a gun in my face and yet I'm not bothered because I don't think it's loaded and the nice redhead holding it is donning a kippah. All this while "Georgia on my Mind" played on the radio in between all the Arab stations.

The stark reality is that I'm still an Anglo living an Anglo life. I don't want to be one of those Americans living here 10 years and barely fumbling through Hebrew with the thickest "um-um" American accent. "B-SAAAY-der!"

I had a close call with religion: I was almost ready to sign on for another three-week brainwashing session with Aish HaTorah when the skeptic in me finally got through.

Lesson One, straight from the Housekeeping Monthly's May 1955 "The Good Wife's Guide:"

"A good wife always knows her place."

Lesson Two: yeshiva boys aren't that scary. Neither are wigs, long skirts, hordes of babies and enslavement in the kitchen.

I can get with one thing and one thing only: religion is there for a reason. Rules are for people who don't have the common sense to figure things out for themselves. But the point is to better oneself! To constantly evaluate one's life. To find meaning and integrity in all of life's moments.

I can't say with certainty that J'lem'sters hit the mark on that one, though.