Generation Gap?

An actual conversation between me and my parents. I'm honestly not sure if this is going to make me want to talk to them more in the future or less.

Mom: have u used your webcam? we also have one but haven't tried it yet
me: Not yet.
I feel that it's a bit too early in my career to start uploading compromising videos to the internet.
...
Mom: no no no compromising videos, just your face when we are talking. or else we'll upload those baby pix!!
me: Which ones?
There are lots more of Noam and Tali. I'm the 3rd child, remember?
Mom: how about the bathtub shots?
me: You don't have those of me.
Mom: want to bet?
me: Yes.

[long pause]

Dad: mommy is busy fruitlessly trying to find compromising pix of u
me: I know.
...
Dad: ...now Mommy is more determined than ever
don't b surprised if a Noam picture is claimed to actually b u
me: I won't.
I think I can tell the difference. Not sure.
Dad: uh oh, u should never challenge your mother, she found some
me: No way!
In an album?
Dad: how about dressed up as a classic nerd 4 Purim
me: Not good enough. She said "naked."
Dad: Or being hugged and kissed by Judy E. at camp when you were a wee one
me: Or "bathtub" at least.
So?
...
Dad: How about topless in the back yard?
me: Still not doing it for me...
Dad: The Purim nerd is pretty bad
Dad: But the mother is still on a quest, still looking for naked
Dad: Busted, found the bathtub
with a girl
me: No way!
That's Noam!
Which girl?
Dad: Tali
Since she's bigger than u in the pic, it has to be you
me: Is this a naked picture of Tali, where I just happen to be there and naked?
Dad: Just found 11 more
many at the beach in public
me: I am "b'shok."
That's Israeli for "in shock."
Dad: U and Tali are sharing a bathtub
There are also solo shots of u
me: ....
Dad: can we stop --- your mother doesn't give up and I'm hungry. This could go on all night now. I'm gonna waste away to nothingness, dying of starvation
all because you challenged your mother
u should know by now you can do that
especially if u think you'll ever win
me: I'm stubborn. You should know that by now.
Dad: BTW, it's a good humbling lesson for marriage as well
just something to keep in mind
me: ...and we're back to this.
Dad: how about the three of u naked in an outdoor shower
me: Ok, now you're just making stuff up. [Editor's note: otherwise, I should go back in time and turn them into Child Services]
Dad: U want compromising, we got plenty, now go out and find a girl so we can thoroughly embarrass u
me: ...I'll work on it. -sigh-
Dad: have a great night. I'm going to eat the woodwork (or other inedible stuff not nailed down, while your mother searches the archives.
Seriously, have a great night. Talk to u tomorrow.
me: Ok.
Later.
Dad: bye

I am speechless. For me, that's a big deal.

I Think I'm a Clone Now

A while ago, in January, while I was training in the U.S, Nefesh B'Nefesh called me to ask if needed any help with my aliyah. It went something like this:

GUY: Ilan, hi, this is [whatever his name was; we'll call him Stanley] with NBN. I was wondering how we can help you with your aliyah.
ILAN: I already made aliyah.
STANLEY: You did?
ILAN: Yes.
STANLEY: When?
ILAN: August.
STANLEY: Oh.
-awkward silence-
(Recall that he's calling my American cellphone)
ILAN: I'm in the U.S. now. [pause] But only for a short while.
STANLEY: Oh.
-awkward silence-
STANLEY: Well, if you want, you can still apply for our services. Give us a call when you get back.
ILAN: Sure, thanks.
STANLEY: Bye.
ILAN: Bye.

I'm not sure if he ever realized that not only did I make aliyah, I made it with NBN. In truth, NBN is a wonderful organization, which does amazing things for many people, myself very much included, so I shouldn't make fun of them. But it was funny. I think I downloaded their application twice or something, and I'm in their database twice, so that in their files, there's one Ilan who planned out the aliyah process, made aliyah, even got a generous cash grant from them; and one Ilan who never quite got off the ground.

Parallel universe much?

Kitten Leasing

So, on a scale of 1 to disturbing, should I be scared by the fact that the email indicated in this screenshot is not spam, but rather, sent by a close friend? My life is...different than other people's.

Question Thursday Extravaganza

So... I've moved into my apartment and things are starting to calm down (see the response to Lauren's question below for more info on that) and to make up for missing the last few Thursdays, I am going to answer every single question I've received to date. Granted, that's only eleven questions, but that's all I got. Hmmm...perhaps it would be more impressive if I said I'm going to answer every single question while submerged upside-down in a 200-gallon tank of water. You can't see me right now, so let's assume I'm bubbling away here, answering in my own damp fashion¹. Ok, so here we go:

Eli: Why?
Answertron 3042: Because I said so. Kids? Kids? Stop fighting back there, or no porridge for a wee- Ow! That's it! Once more, and I will turn this blog around. No rollercoasters, no funnelcakes, no watching slaves getting fed to lions, do you hear me?

Eli: Why me?
Answertron 3042: According to one popular theory in modern physics, there are an infinite number of possible universes in existence. Hence, in a smaller, but still infinite number, there are an infinite number of Elis all asking "Why me?"² If you got this infinite number of Elis in a room together (yes, it would be a big room) and gave them an infinite amount of time with an infinite number of typewriters, a lot of Elis would probably get pretty stained with all that ink. Other Elis would form a free-market economy, using the typewriters as a currency, while still others³ would use the typewriters as crude weapons, vying for brute-force dominance of the infinite Eliverse...
In other words, um, I dunno.

Stuart: What's the best place to store nuclear weapons around the house so the kids don't get into them?
Answertron 3042: Nebraska.

Stuart: Can white men sing the blues?
Answertron 3042: Yes, if you upset them enough. Try telling them that their pimped-out Escalade doesn't make them look 'ghetto.' Or drill a hole in one of their yachts. Or remind them that they are just cogs in a consumer-driven, laissez-faire free-market economy, where while nothing's truly free, value is placed on nothing, resulting in overindulgence in their drab and meaningless existences in a vain attempt to ignore the desperate ennui slowly sapping all life from their bones. Then kick them in the groin really hard. That should work.

Stuart: Can blue men sing the whites?
Answertron 3042: Only in Canada. You sicko.

Stuart: What is the circumference of Rosie O'Donnell?
Answertron 3042: Three Olsen twins.

Stuart: If a woodchuck would chuck as much as it could chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood, doesn't the woodchuck have a pretty boring existence?
Answertron 3042: Who are you to judge the woodchuck community? They have had many great contributions to society, including the invention of sporks, the concept of irony, and vocal intonations indicating the end of a thought. (Before woodchucks, people would poilitely wait for a few seconds of silence before replying in a conversation. Dramatic pauses were dreadfully difficult, and a episode of West Wing would take 3 hours, at which point the actors would all collapse from exhaustion from all that walking and talking.⁴)

Stuart: How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie roll center of Tara Reid's brain?
Answertron 3042: Now you're just being plain mean. ::crosses robotic arms:: That's it. I refuse to answer. Now go to your room, Stuart, and think about what you've done.

Reb Chaim: Here's a question for you: The Torah says that during the Exodus the Jews did not have enough time for their bread to leaven, so they ate unleavened breads, which is why there is an obligation to eat Maztah on Pesach. However, let's say they had enough time for their bread to rise, they still would not have eaten leavened bread because it's Chametz and it was Pesach, so why do we need the reason that they had no time for the bread to rise, just say they didn't eat leavened bread because it was Pesach?
Answertron 3042: So the children would ask. No, seriously - both happened, and there are two different aspects to matzah, each part of a (somewhat ) separate holiday that starts on the 15th of Nissan.

Lauren: What is wrong with the Thursday question thing?
Answertron 3042: I am now in fully functioning order, ma'am, and I suggest you be more sensitive in the future. How would you feel if someone asked you what was wrong with you, then you went and told the teacher and the other kids heard and didn't let you play with the nice red ball and you got stuck with the stupid blue ball and you could only play with Harold, the kid with all the food allergies and the inhaler, but who needs those other kids anyway and no, I'm not crying. I just have a cold.

Lauren: And how serious are the Thursday questions allowed to be?
Answertron 3042: As serious as you want. Mind you, I won't necessarily answer serious questions seriously. I might even answer them ironically.

Lauren: Is it too late to submit a question?
Answertron 3042: Can't.... continue.... questions too.... meta.... ::Answertron 3042 explodes, leaving pieces all over cyberspace.::⁵

1. We are going to deliver all answers using the new, high-tech Answertron 3042, to expedite the answering process, and because robots are freakin' awesome.
2. Some of those Elis have tentacles.
3. Probably including the tentacled Elis.
4. Plus, William Shatner couldn't get a word in edgewise, but I'm not saying that was a bad thing.
5. Lauren, you owe me a new question-answering robot. And chocolate. I want chocolate.

Do Not Adjust Your Monitor...

No, it's not your fault. There is currently a glitch in the Question Thursdays system. We are working to hammer it out. In the meantime, though, if you need to get from New York to Dublin, Google has the directions (via kottke.org).

Introducing Question Thursdays

In order to jump-start this blog again (having finished redesigns of both blogs, plus a bit on an as-yet-unclear project) I'm introducing a brand new program, called Question Thursdays (alternate, more clever titles are welcome and encouraged.) Here's how it works:

• Thursday arrives in Israel, whatever the time zone you may happen to be in. This generally happens once a week, though there was that time when NBC scheduled two Thursdays in a row, so everyone could fulfill their must-see-TV obligation. They were showing a Very Special Friends episode (The One Where Ross Becomes a Heroin Addict But Gets Better and Phoebe Blows Up Burundi.)
• For 24 hours, you, my adoring readers send me questions - anything ranging from the idiotic to the inane. Seriously, any question at all (yes, you can ask me where you left the car keys, but I'm telling you for the billionth time, they're on the counter next to the phone.) Use the email address in the sidebar*, and don't fret if you feel like sending it earlier in the week.
• I will choose one or more questions to answer in a manner of my choosing. Please understand that "in a manner of my choosing" could mean "as I were a 15th-century villiage idiot ('Forsooth, while reading your missive, I didst soil myself in publick.') or it could mean "while riding Tobias, my pet manatee." (He's a magic manatee - much like a normal manatee, only more full of himself.)
• You read and commend me for knowing so darn much.

That is all. The answers should be up before Shabbat in Israel. Let's get rolling! And when you're done rolling, send me questions, you dizzy readers.

*Edit: You can Either post your questions or use that email address. See the 2nd and 3rd comments.

Hebrew Lesson

סבלנות - sav.lan.ut - n. Patience, specifically patience for the speaker from others. Note: there is no word for patience in the other direction.

Going Mad

This must be what going mad feels like.

So it's almost Purim, the one Jewish holiday totally saturated in silliness. And yesterday, I was dressed up in a makeshift diaper and eyepatch, standing in front of 50 people, sucking my thumb.

And the show hits...a new low.

You see, our office has fun activities from time to time. And Purim, I imagine, is one of the bigger ones. Fine, no problem. But I wasn't in the mood for silliness and fun today. I wanted to just sit and do my work, or at least get distracted accidentally, not intetionally. But one of the managers came in to my cubicle and told me to go. I asked if I have to. She said yes. (I soon expected the German-accented "you veell be go-ink and you veell be enjoyink eet.") So I went.

They introduced the game: each group would use the available materials (pipe cleaners, large pieces of construction paper, etc. to make costumes, and the best costume would get a prize. So our group decided to dress up one of us, and I let them bicker about it, having no desire to participate at all in this silliness. And I got increasingly annoyed and just wanted this silly thing to be over. I was in a bad mood, I guess. So finally, after like seven minutes of this I threw my hands up and said I'd dress up. Anything to get the agony over with. Unfortunately, I hadn't been paying close enough attention to what they were planning on doing, which is how I ended up prancing about the stage, supposedly dressed as Moshe Dayan's great-grandson. This, mind you, in front of many people I had not even met, but who will now likely remember me as "the guy who dressed up as a baby." Great.

Oh, and to top it all off, though I tried washing off the red makeup they used to make me "rosy-cheeked," it just kind of faded, so I looked like I was blushing for a while afterwards. Which maybe I should've been.

That's it. I've entered the Twilight Zone. There's something on the wing, and only I can see it, and no one's gonna believe me.

P.S. I'm back in Israel, for those of you who didn't know. I intend to give you some stories about Arizona and returning to Israel sometime soon. LOTS of writing to do, and a lot of other things. Like finding a place to live.

Life Lessons: Superheroes

There is a fine line between a superhero and a man in tights who likes to sit on rooftops and watch people. Maybe it's the cape.

Somewhat Super

In response to a letter I had sent him, a friend of mine emailed me the following:

How's the weather out there? What exactly are you learning during this 'training' period? Are you learning how to build a nuclear bomb from silicone? Really?

Now, this was an odd series of questions, to say the least. I responded in kind:

Ok, you got me. We're building bombs. Not out of silicone - which is used as a sealant, for firestops (whatever those are), and certain types of -ahem- implants. I think you were referring to silicon - without the 'e', which is used in making computer chips. But we don't use those to make bombs either. In any case, the training is going just fine, except for the interesting effects of prolonged radiation exposure. I now lack eyebrows, but have developed some interesting powers. I can now detect mimes at a distance of 100 kilometers and I read people's minds, but only in haiku form. It's a interesting talent, that last one. Often when I try to use it on women, I get something like the following: Creepy guy staring Really have to go get a Restraining order. And sometimes, it's hard to understand what they're saying, so I get things like this: My thoughts don't always Make sense or flow together. Cauliflower duck.

There are some questions better left unasked.