Live always at the edge of poetic possibilty, even in the face of severe prose. - Walter Bruggemann

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Thursday Night LIVE!

Live from Jerusalem it's.......
Thursday Night LIVE!

After another great dinner at Timol Shilshom off of Ben Yehuda my friend, Trotsky, the poodle who's ears flapped in the wind on Mea Shearim, and I heard drumming in the not too far distance. We walked to Ben Yehuda Street and it was happening! 20 & 30 something Jerusalemites were feeding their spring fever, smoking their hookahs (with tobacco mind you!!), walking happy gangs. Tourists were snapping photos like crazy. It really was like a spring day here today. Thursday night, the eve of the eve of Shabbat always has a special kind of festive mood.

It was busy for 10:30 at night in February. I stood there listening to jembe drumming by two young guys at the main 'square' of AM Luntz St. and Ben Yehuda St. The only time they stopped was when a girl who usually has her microphone set up and her somewhat on key voice singing songs like, "New York, New York" came over to them. I couldn't exactly hear what they were saying but I could see that it wasn't a conversation. The three of them were talking at the same time. Their hands were flying in the air as only Israeli's hands can do when they talk.

They won. She lost. She huffed back over to her stand up mic and the jembe's began once again. A skateboarder whizzed by. A white bearded old man tried to sell us a red thread bracelet with an evil eye on it. I bought one five years ago on my first visit to Ben Yehuda. What a fool. You're supposed to wear it until it wears off...for good luck. A month and a half later I was on to this old guy's tricks. I cut it off, my luck had not improved.

We looked for the 'eternal light' lady but she hasn't been around for a while. Her case of Jerusalem Syndrome must have cleared up and her light ceased being eternal.

After enough cultural stimulation we walked up Ben Yehuda St. heading for home. On a lone corner was a harpist. She had just finished harping and pulled out a recorder and started playing, "My Favorite Things" from the Sound of Music. My friend sang along a few bars. Trotsky peed on the lampost again and I thought, these are some of my favorite things.

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