Joe Rockhead in the holy land

Those of you who are [cough, cough] ‘of an age’ will remember the classic Flintstones episode where Fred and Barney join Joe Rockhead’s Volunteer Fire Department.

For those of you who missed it, the basic story line goes like this:

Everything in Bedrock is made of stone, so a wise guy named Joe Rockhead comes up with the brilliant idea of forming a volunteer fire department in order to give its members a sure-fire (pun intended) excuse for getting out of the house. Every evening at the same time, the fire horn (a screeching bird, if memory serves) would go off, and all the members would run down to the firehouse. Once assembled, they would be told (with a wink and a nod) that it was a false alarm and then everyone would disperse to go play poker, go bowling, etc. Although it’s not important to this particular journal entry, Fred and Barney used the fire drills as cover to take dance lessons at Arthur Quarry’s Dance Studio. In the parlance of Hollywood, “wackiness ensued”.

Anyhoo…

There is an entirely passive category of experiences and sensations that exists below one's conscious ‘radar’. For example, how long would it take you to realize you had NOT experienced one of the following:

the sound of cicadas
the smell of burning leaves
the tinkle of ice cream truck music
the aroma of low tide
the ache of frost-nipped ears
the itch of poison ivy

If you went years without experiencing one of these things, it probably wouldn’t occur to you that something was missing...until, of course, you experienced it again.

So, why am I bringing up this wonderful episode...and all of these oft-ignored stimuli? Because, until this morning, it hadn’t occurred to me that one of the missing items from the unconscious part of my 'lifescape' was a fire engine.

Like Bedrock, the Promised Land has very little (other than trees) that will burn. Houses here are mostly of cinderblock or steel-frame construction, with stone or stucco façades, and terracotta roofing. Commercial buildings are made from similar materials, with the addition of glass and steel to the architectural palate. Basically, the country is fireproof!

So, you can imagine my surprise when, after almost 6 months of driving in Israel, I passed an ancient fire engine – the first I had ever seen here. This truck must have been built in the late ‘50s or early ‘60s. I mean this was the Studebaker of fire engines!

That encounter got me wondering what the hell do firemen here do all day? Why isn’t everyone clamoring to become a firefighter? That has to be the best job in the country!!! Although, judging by the quality of the equipment they drive around, I can’t imagine that Israeli firefighters are paid very well.

[sigh] I guess the budget money follows the demand. For example, ambulances here are state-of-the-art affairs that are better equipped than most third-world hospitals. Some are even designated as ‘Mobile Intensive Care Units’ with nearly every lifesaving / sustaining machine known to modern medicine (and generators to run them). The police and military have cutting edge vehicles for every conceivable task…bomb squads, Emergency Service Units, armored patrol cars, etc.

But ask an Israeli kid to draw a fire truck, or to tell you the location of the local firehouse, and you’re gonna get a really blank stare.

So, what other surprises are out there waiting to remind me of things I’ve left behind? Not that I’m complaining...but little things… like the absence of fire engines from the landscape… have a way of sneaking up and turning my head around.

Incidentally… Wouldn’t it be neat if the fire truck I saw this morning was part of some elaborate Flintstonesque ruse to get a bunch of Israeli husbands out of the house once in a while.

That, my friends, would be the ultimate in life imitating art!