HOW I GOT RID OF MY LOVE

It's Sunday afternoon.  Wait - WHAT???  It's Sunday afternoon and you're writing in the blog instead of watching football?  What the hell is wrong with you?

I started watching football in 1982 back in the kibbutz.  In Israel, mind you, not only American football was an unfamiliar game, but there was no place to watch it on TV.  There was only one, government-controlled over-the-air channel.  They gave maybe 10 minutes of sports for the entire week - none of it live.  I was bedridden, recovering at home from an injury.  "Surfing" channels on the TV was short: there were 3-4 channels altogether, most of them from neighboring Lebanon and Jordan and all broadcasting in Arabic, except for one station from southern Lebanon.  This was (and still is) a Christian American station.  Next to the many old movies and the 700 Club and religious sermons, they showed Monday Night Football.  Bored out of my mind and unable to go anywhere, I started  watching this strange game.  I had nobody to explain it to me.  In the beginning, I didn't get it.  Why the hell are they falling a second after the ball was snapped?  And what's the joy in seeing them falling over each other again and again?  Where's the game?  Compared it to the fluent soccer and basketball football looked stagnant.  In addition to not understanding the game, my English was quite limited and even more so was my understanding of American culture, as expressed by the broadcasters.  But over time, my English professor John Madden, was able not only to teach me the game, but some English too.  Well, at least this important word: BOOM!  I became the kibbutz' expert on NFL matters (there were only a few who cared anyway.)

Over the years I discovered the beauty of the game.  I was hooked.  I didn't miss a game on TV.  Later, when I settled in Atlanta, I was fortunate enough to go watch it live.  I always said that a mediocre game at the stadium beats an excellent game on TV.  On TV you can't absorb the atmosphere, noises (often waaaaay too loud), smells (fried, grill smoke, spilled beer, cheap perfume), scenes of a live game.  

But in the last two years something changed in my own mind.  It started at the stadium.  First I got fed up with the nationalism they try to drown us in.  The playing of the national anthem, soldiers holding a field-size flag, soldiers marching, if it's an open stadium often you would have military jets flying low overhead.  Why all this patriotism show?  I'm going to a goddamn football game, not a national show of support. In Europe they don't perform any patriotism act before a game in any sport.  Why in America they shove it down out throat?  Is it because people want to say thank-you to those who wear [any kind] of uniform or mostly because people want to feel safe - to feel the power?  (They never tell stories of military operations went wrong at football games; they never mention the dead; PTSD is a hush-hush.  You get the idea.  It's a show of power.  `Nuf said.)

But this was just the beginning.  If you haven't paid attention, America is in a financial crisis the past several years.  Whole cities are standing empty, people are out of a job, no healthcare for them, using food stamps.  Yet, at the stadium you see people spending $8 on a light beer; $100 on a ticket (at the least); etc.  And the money goes to . . . make the rich richer.  It goes to a billionaire owner.   

Yup, those 70,000 folks, who every day bitch about taxes-too-high, the cost of medical care, the price of gas - etc. - gladly throw away their hard earned dollars to this rich guy. And they cheer for a color and a name only.  I know because I used to do it too.  For too long.  If the team I cheered for won, "WE" didn't win.  20-30 millionaires who do nothing but playing football and whose loyalty is to their employer, not to the fans or the city - they won the game.  It has little to do with me.  Why should I be proud of their win?  

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We all heard over the media about the brain damage football players suffer (and many other bodily injuries that they carry with them for the rest of their lives).  It is their choice, you would say, right?  They can choose not to play the game.  But that's not always the case.  For a matter of fact, it's almost never the case.  More on that below.  But I was thinking how sick it is to put protective gear on and go hit the crap out of another guy - just for entertainment.  Seriously?  And we call it "sport".

The other day I went on my daily walk.  I passed an elementary school where . . . you guessed it,  6 graders and below with full gear on were running scrimages.

Do you see the connection to the nationalism/patriotism paragraph above?  We're teaching our kids aggressiveness and violence from a very young age.  Good job, America!

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Despite all the above, I was still hooked.  Doubts started to appear.  I wasn't in peace with myself.  I swung back and forth.  I love the game but can't justify watching it.  Deep in my heart I probably knew that football days are almost over for me, but you know how it is with an old habit - almost an addiction.  It's heard to give it up.  In addition, football is such a "social" game.  I watched it with friends and discussed it with them.  Football helped me relax - like it does to most fans of the game.  I needed a push out.  And it came.

Here it is.  

Listen to this eye opening talk before you read the rest of this post.  The first 10 minutes were the least interesting for me.  They talk about head injuries etc  The rest, however, was absolutely great.  Or, rather, terrible.  The painful truth.  While I already knew most of what's discussed, the presentation was so good that as soon as I finished listening to it, football was over for me.  I'm done.  (Unless you talk me out of it . . .)  I knew that I could not enjoy the game any more the way I used to.  I knew that I could not watch it and be honest with myself at the same time.  Something gotta give.  On honesty and truthfulness and social justice I don't compromise - so football is out.  I cannot bury my head in the sand and pretend none of this shit is happening.

But wait - there's more:  When you listen to this conversation you realize how sick the situation is; how greedy the NFL and its owners are; how unjust the system is.  Football and actually most big-money professional sports, are a micro-cosmos of our society: Very few people are making TONS of money and all the decisions, while the rest of us are financing them.  When it comes to real life, I don't have a choice.  I must go with the flow of the economy and the politics in order to put food on the table,  But when it comes to pleasure, such as football, I don't need to be part of it.  And if I am, then I'm not truthful with myself.

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So there it is.  No more Monday of Thursday or Sunday night footballs.  No more Sunday worshipping sessions on the couch.  I'm done.  Big hole.  (Fortunately, there are other sports.)

Like many addicts, this one also took a 12-step program.  I counted one, two, three....twelve - and football was out.  When I eliminated dairy, chicken, and meat from my diet nearly two decades ago,  I did so overnight.  Once the reason and the explanation and the common sense is there, to make the decision is easy.  And with such foundations, keeping it ain't so hard either.  It's a simple brain switch.  It is really that simple.  Really.

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Wait, but you still watch professional other-sports, Asher.  What's the difference?  Are you a hypocrite?  Ah, hmm, yes, definitely.  I mean, maybe.  There's definitely big money and a lot of unjust in European soccer, which I watch a lot of.  I imagine that MLB is somewhat similar.  But I'm not looking for justifications.  I took a step.  I will see where this new path takes me.

And what about all the sports I already gave up? lacrosse, water aerobics, badminton - just to name a few.  There's no question I'm well on the way to recovery!

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So why am I publishing this post?  Who cares that I stopped watching football?  Here's why:

1. Because I hope that this post will serve as my commitment.  So far over two weeks I felt no hunger for the game.  My weekends are surprisingly calm and enjoyable so far.   

2.  When people ask me why, I simply turn them to this post rather than repeat the long road to my decision.

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Liam's corner:

Liam wouldn't have liked this decision.  It's not that she liked sports so much (or maybe she did?  We'll never know), but she liked her dad liking sports.  She liked the yelling TOUCHDOWN!  She liked the guys.  She liked the guys drinking beer while watching the game.  She also liked going to the stadium - but again, it's hard to know what she liked about it:  The super extra loud speakers?  The chicken nuggets?  The tons of people? The train ride?  Just spending time with her Abba?  It was way too far for her to see the game - and I doubt how much of it she would have understood anyway.  (For me the stadium trips with her were not much fun - especially the keeping her clean parts....`nuf said).

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So what, you really not gonna watch any games?  Finito?  

Let me put it this way:  I quit eating dairy nearly 20 years ago, but if I eat out I don't make a big deal if my salmon was cooked in butter. I would not order any dairy dish, however.  Much the same, if I go to a social event and the game is on, I'm likely to just do-the-party thing and not worry about it.  But I eliminated all on-purpose watching.  So yes, finito.

Like holding water

Another anniversary came and [almost] gone.  The past 4 years weren't easy.  The details are not part of this blog (at least not now), but let me just say that I didn't know it'd be THAT hard.  It's not only losing Liam and all the coping, but so much more.  I know, I know - it's unfair that I'm saying how difficult it is but not including any details.  Well, that's life.  Deal with it.

People who remember Liam mentioned her in the past week.  What a fun and loving and lively personality she had.  Her amazing aura.  How she lightened up the room when she came in.  Sometimes I ask myself if I ought to remember just the good times.  Because Liam's life were extremely challenging [for all of us] way before the last year in which she was fighting her last battle.  The answer is clear and instinctive:  Remember it all.  There's no other way.  But of course, most people aren't like me and they mostly mention just the good times.  So just to keep things in perspective I'm gonna spoil the party [yet again].

So I'm remembering the last year.  The last year was like trying to hold water in between your fingers. It sips right through.  If you just read the original blog again, it's obvious. We tried to hold her life, but it sipped right through.  Whatever we tried - failed. And the hardest part was our failure to help her through the pain.  Ironically and madly I remember the times that she was sleeping deeply (either under heavy medication or otherwise) as the best times.  Because during those times she wasn't suffering (and we could catch a short breather).

We were waiting.  Waiting for a miracle to come or for the nightmare to end.  The miracle, it turned out, was that Liam was here in the first place and for her to do the things she did with such a Swiss-cheese brain.

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Some folks remembered and brought flowers etc.  How kind and thoughtful.  (Sadly, no beer.)  We spent Labor Day weekend at a large cabin in the mountains of north Georgia - the owner live in the neighborhood.  How kind of her to let us use it!  Last time we were there Liam was with us.  The house is not wheelchair accessible so I immediately remembered how fun AND difficult was the last visit.  This time it was so much easier - physically.  On the other hand, Liam wasn't with us.  There's no question what we prefer: tough with Liam or easy without her.

But good friends came over which made the weekend so much easier to pass.  Plus the deer that came to visit every dawn/dusk, the eagles/hawks, the chickens, the horses, the greenery. 

Here's an excerpt from a song I love.  I admire people who can express so much thoughts and feelings with so few words.  You'd notice how relevant and personal the lyrics are.  But relevance aside, the reason this song speaks to me so strongly, is because [I think that] it talks about unconditional love - whatever the situation is - which of course reminds me of Liam.

Here It Is / Leonard Cohen

<I'm quoting only the relevant lines>

Here is your sickness.
Your bed and your pan;
And here is your love
For the woman, the man.

May everyone live,
And may everyone die.
Hello, my love,
And, my love, Goodbye.

And here is the night,
The night has begun;
And here is your death
In the heart of your son.

And here is the dawn,
(Until death do us part);
And here is your death,
In your daughter’s heart.

May everyone live,
And may everyone die.
Hello, my love,
And, my love, Goodbye.

And here you are hurried,
And here you are gone;
And here is the love,
That it’s all built upon.

  

There's probably more to write, but it's almost the next day and more importantly, football is on - FINALLY.

Another missed opportunity

This week, while you were busy with the Ukraine crisis or searching for bodies in the sunken Korean ferry, you might have missed a small item: The Palestinian Authority (PA) and Hamas, bitter rivals of the recent past, signed an agreement to become one body, representing all Palestinians.  

Israel's immediate reaction was to condemn such agreement and to pull out of the peace talks - not that such talks were so productive anyway.  Israel didn't take even a minute to think it over.  This was a great missed opportunity by the Israeli government.  Opportunity? you may ask, what opportunity?  They just signed an agreement with Hamas, who not only does not recognize Israel's right to exist, but is actually preaching - and acting - to destroy Israel. Yes, opportunity, is my answer to you.  

Imagine, that is instead of condemning, Israel would have said "We congratulate the Palestinian people for reaching this agreement and we look forward to search together for a peaceful solution and co-existence side by side".  Imagine that.  What would have happened?  Here's what:

1. Israel would have been the initiator, the one who is ready for a handshake.  As such, nobody could have complained that Israel isn't seeking peace.  
2. But more importantly of not getting the blame, it would have opened the door for real talks.
3. It would have put Israel together with any Arab state who welcomes the agreement.  That's a huge credit in the middle-east.  (BTW, just today, Iran congratulated the parties.  Imagine that both Israel and Iran sent the same message.  Imagine.)
4. Israel would have preempted any aggression coming from - well - anybody.
5. What potentially could have been the risk to Israel for coming out with such an inviting statement?  Absolutely no risk.  Everything to gain with nothing to lose.  Sure, Israel would have to backup those words with action, but a statement like this is not a commitment yet.  Just an open door.  

However, in its great tradition of missing golden opportunities Israel couldn't pass this opportunity to miss another golden opportunity.  DUH!!!  Ten years from now, after much more hostility and many more casualties, maybe people would look back at this point in history, shake their heads, and say "if only Israel have said...."

Don't get me wrong.  Israel was not the only one to miss opportunities in the history of the conflict.  Both the arabs and the Palestinians missed just the same.  But the past is irrelevant.  What's important is the now and the future.  Every opportunity is a new one.  

It is easy to see why Israel did what it did.  Israel is much stronger than any faction of the Palestinian people and from both combined.  In Israeli eyes, there's no rush for any peace agreement.  Quite the opposite: with such agreement, Israel would be forced to stop the illegal construction in the occupied territories; likewise, Israel would be forced to stop pumping water from aquifers under Palestinian land.  As usual, Israel wants a free ride: a peace agreement AND the stop of terrorism AND expansion of Israeli settlements.  Somebody up there in the government forgets that there's a price for everything.  But, we're diverting from the real subject here - the missed opportunity.

Here's a question it seems like Israel never asked itself:  Why would Hamas join the PA, knowing that the latter is fully engaged with Israel in peace talks, if it is not interested in an agreement itself?  The Nay sayers would say - because Hamas wants to take over the West Bank, in addition to Gaza.  Maybe, I don't know.  But meanwhile it is submitting itself to the PA - and that is a great opportunity for everybody.  Who knows what would happen several months or years from now?  Yes, Hamas is a terrorist organization.  But so was the PLO - now the PA.  How many Israeli prime ministers declared that they would "never shake Yasser Arafat's hands because they're dirty with blood [of Israeli victims"?  And how many PMs eventually shook his hands? Four (Rabin, Peres, Barak, Sharon).  And it was a good thing.  So snap out of it, Bibi.

I talked about sadness several times in this blog.  I rarely get sad about the past - and that includes losing Liam.  I miss Liam terribly, but I feel fortunate that she was part of my life.  Sadness is not part of the conversation.  On the other hand, when I see someone who lives an unhealthy lifestyle, who believes it can't hurt him - that makes me sad.  Likewise, when I see the Israelis (and Palestinians) walking into a dead-end alley and knocking their heads into a brick wall - again and again and again - that makes me sad.

A positive word of hope to end this post:  It is not too late for Israel to recognize this reconciliation.  More importantly, it's not too late for Israel to realize that the Palestinians are the ones they need to get along with - regardless of who represents them - the PA, the Hamas, or a unified government.  It really doesn't take a genius to figure out who to make peace with (hint: it is NOT your friends....psssst, the other guys).  Despite this recent blunder, I hope Israel will find a way to do the right thing.

19 years ago today

A bit sick, so I stayed home today.  I wish I felt better because Liam's birthday really calls for sports and beer.  But I can't even think of alcohol right now.  So I'm on the couch, working remotely the best I can - while the TV is playing PBS Kids.  WTF, you may ask, PBS Kids?  After Liam died I was freed from this station (the girls are still watching it occasionally).  But today, since I'm on the couch and it's Liam's birthday and I'm not a fan of daytime TV, it just seemed natural to turn on that station as a background noise.  (But not to worry: a European game will replace Clifford and Sesame Street shortly....I'm sick, but not THAT sick.)

And in memory of Liam, this is how I want to take my medicine (scroll down for The Pill):  
The Pill.

What's the rush?

Endless Rush
Yesterday it snowed in Atlanta.  I was lucky to leave the office right after lunch and made it home quickly and safely.  However, many of my colleagues never made it home.  They spent the night "somewhere".  The lucky ones made it home spending 5-8 hours stuck in traffic.  Then all that snow froze overnight, making the icy roads completely undriveable.  How would these stuck folks get home today? I feel for those who HAVE TO be on the road under such conditions: policemen, public work employees, medical personnel, etc.  The rest of us just stay home today (if we were lucky enough to make it home).

Schools and many work places are all closed today, as well as all kind of other public facilities.  Nobody's going anywhere.  Nobody's in rush to get anywhere.  And everybody's okay with it.  A forced vacation day - of sort.  Which begs the question:  When it's not snowing, why do we rush all the time?  Why do we put deadlines?  Why do we overfill our days?  Why do we put this stress on ourselves?  Why do we teach it to our children?

Snow days help put everything in perspective. Our daily rush makes absolutely no sense.  If I had my wish, I would live in a place where I still need to work every days and kids still go to school - all the same as in our current society - but with one big difference:  Everything would be done in moderation and in a slow pace.  Family and health and welfare of the people and society and friends and red-wine (and yeah, beer too, of course (and don't forget the sports)) would all be on top of the list - waaaaay before work and money and careers.

Homeless
Last night, after the city stopped (at least our neighborhood), Rachel and I walked down the street to help make sandwiches for the homeless.  One of the guys around the table is a homeless himself.  I often see him on the bike path - in all kind of weather.  I always ask myself what is he doing for the night?  Does he sleep?  How does he sleep (in this cold)? Where does he get his food from? Where does he do his "business" (ok, that one is pretty obvious, eh?).  He's always very friendly.  Never asks for money or anything.  Just waves and smiles - despite the harsh weather conditions.  So last night I wasn't just waving 'hi' at him, we also shared work duties in the sandwiches assembly line.  I had to interact with him.  It gives you a different perspective of the person AS A PERSON.  He's no longer just an item in the landscape, but a real human.  

Then we all parted way and we went back home.  Where did he go?

Cat
This morning I let Nikita out, trusting that she would not go far.  Shortly after I couldn't find her.  I found her footsteps in the snow going to the back yard, but I still couldn't find her and she didn't respond to our calling her (usually she comes right away). At those moments, you have the worst thoughts:  is she freezing somewhere (how can she not?); did some big animal get her?  Etc. 

Being the responsible man that I am, I covered my feet with another blanket and sent Rachel outside to find her.  She found her up high on a tree she climbed and didn't know how to descend.  Lucky for us, we have generous neighbors with the right ladder.  So yeah, I found myself climbing high, firefighter style, in the freezing temps, on a shaky ladder, to save the baby.  Yes, there was a happy ending to this story.