The burn of it all...

The hardest part of talking about the tragedies in Israel this week is that I knew while I was typing that the boy in the west bank settlement of Itamar wouldn't be found alive. There was a look in his eye that was somehow foretelling a sad discovery made by searching soldiers near Ramallah. Buried in a field, the missing boy, Eliyahu.

Tanks and other pieces of armor gather just inside, and just outside, the Gaza Strip. The power is off, and the sweltering heat seeks to consume the squalid dusty streets and the mirage of a distant army, poised to tear your home apart - even if only to find another body, buried in a field.

A mother wails in the arms of her husband. Her boy is dead, laid to rest at home in Israel. Not in some wretched settlement, but in Jerusalem. A sign that they know that soon graves in the West Bank settlements will be pulled up and moved home to Israel.

There is something else on the Jewish horizon, poised to tear some of us further apart than we have ever been. I feel quite strongly, that there is no worthy reason to take World Pride to Jerusalem. I am horrified that it is going to take place, and I can see the ease in the jump for my Orthodox brothers to think that the absolute last insult is about to be hurled at Ha Shem, and the Jewish people.

If only one person behaves as ludely and immodestly as many do here in the US, and in other nations, in Jerusalem, it will be too many. I don't want there to be tweeking and PNP and all other manner of disrespect paid to Ir Ha'kadosh. I believe that there is sanctity and holiness in that place, and I do not want to be counted in the number of those who would behave in an undignified manner in that place.

I pressed my tear-filled face into that cold stone wall and I cried my heart to Ha' Shem, and Ha' Shem heard me. I prayed and was heard. I blessed, and was blessed.

Do not go to that place and - en masse - allow yourselves to behave immodestly - for you shame One that must be honored.

I sound quite horribly rigid and conservative I know, but I believe this one thing to be above my otherwise liberal sensibility.

I just want there to be some peace and quiet in the Middle East. I want to believe that it can be obtained in my lifetime.

Bring him home...

Somewhere - I imagine a dirt-floored room in a sprawling mud-built refugee camp in Gaza - a 20 year old Israeli soldier/boy is being held by Palestinian militants. He was captured/kidnapped and dragged back across the border with the Gaza strip after his unit was attacked by militants, who had burrowed a tunnel under the boarder. Two of his unit were killed - 1 is in a serious condition in Hospital, and he is missing.

The Israeli army has re-entered Gaza, cut power, bombed bridges, and is prepared to show an amazing amount of force in order to get him back.

It is the worst possible thing to take place at this time. Peace, ever an artisan of disguise has flitted before us and again vanishes in the shadows.

Somewhere - in Ramallah, by all accounts - a second Israeli boy is being held by militants. Kidnapped also. He looks like a sweet kid. A round, smiling face, like so many other Israeli kids growing up in the rural centers.

In Nazareth, a man shot his 4 year old son, and then turned the gun on himself in the garden of the hotel he worked at. The man's name was Sharon Cohen, and he was 33 years old. The name of the son was absent from the report in Ha'Aretz, which made me even sadder.

Katzav and Yoffie are sparing with each other in a manner which I am just not sure I like. But I don't think I have seen Ha'Aretz so filled with reporting about Reform Judaism. There is a lot of interesting commentary on Israeli society, and it's relationship to religion - and to non-Orthodox Judaism in particular.

The boy is Gaza is named Gilad Shalit.

The boy in Ramallah is named Eliyahu Asheri.

Pray for them - pray for them all.

"We're all so very proud..."

Just back from observing the goings-on at the annual gay pride parade.

I have to say, I haven't ever really been that much interested in actually watching the parade, before. So imagine my utter dismay, that I would find myself setting off down the hill to - indeed - watch the parade as it passed by barely a block away. I pulled on jeans and a fav t-shirt and toddled off with a nice little smile on my face - actually feeling, dare I say it, proud.

I know - never been one for pride, have I? Not going there today...

But the nice people from the Gay Lesbian Center and Lambda Legal deserve hearty applause as they march down the center of Santa Monica Blvd, for all their hard work, on the front lines of guaranteeing our voices are heard. P-FLAG of course need a cheer in absentia for our Mothers and Fathers - and Aunts and Uncles, cousins, et al.

There were a few that made me laugh, and one or tow that brought me close to emesis, but that's all water under the bridge. A flatbed truck of hot Latin boys in jeans, t-shirts, and boots stomping out to the beat of the Latin band - aye aye aye!

At one point I stood and watched with the brash, butch lesbian women outside the girlbar down aroun' the corner. Also stood against the wall of the car wash, right in front of the Blvd side, up stream from the viewing stand - so were able to see the victory-lap. The area under the trees, is quite filled in now, as to make it ideal for viewing them all.

Home again, home again...

Back from a week in DC with a dear friend. Boy was with me for the initial couple of days before heading to NYC for a two-week intensive program thru school. Oh the whole it was an enjoyable time to catch up and do some of the DC area sites.

Included a lovely hike alongside the C&O Canal which starts out in Georgetown, and takes a 200 or so mile meander alongside the Potomac River. The canal if teeming with life - we saw geese, ducks, a whole host of fish - including the spawning ritual of two rather delightful little fish, who shall remain nameless.

We three walked and talked about a whole lot of things and it was really nice to see the two of them getting to know one another better. She and her love will be getting married next summer, and so are in the anxious-ridden throws of finding a venue. Needless to say there was a lot of "I remember that" kind of stuff, and a host of other craziness that must only be the product of two women tying the knot, I guess.

I was able to get a better feel for life in DC than I had gained before. The warm spring air was filled with the scent of flowers and trees waved their emerald green leaves at every glance. I gained a much better appreciation for inner city dwelling - watching men and women in suits carrying groceries home with their laptop bags slung over their shoulders. Ties loosened after a days work, making their way home thru the tree lined streets.

The boy and I saw the Native American Museum, which was spectacular in it's form and execution, and the National Holocaust Museum which was packed with high school groups on their trip to see the nations capital et al.

I was also able to view the Phillips Collection, including it's Renoir (above). I spent quite a lot of time looking at the painting. I did a "gay viewing" of the piece, and decided that there is something going on with the two men in short sleeves and straw hats.

The older, with his glorious red beard and hair seems to be quite interested in the man on the far side of the patio in the top hat and suit. Perhaps he knows him, has seen him before, or, as I suspect, is checking him out. The younger man, the "boy" of the elder I think, is quite interested in the attention that is being paid to the formally dressed man across the bar. Jealousy rearing her head?

I particularly love the way in which the points of the awning flutter in the warm breeze.