Just another day in the Holy Land

Given the heavy topic of yesterday's post, you can well imagine that Zahava and I were in a bit of a funk.  The afternoon news didn't help much, with a report of a female terrorist tossing acid into a soldier's face at a check-point.  This animal had attempted the same thing two weeks ago at the same check-point, but had somehow managed to escape (because for some reason soldiers can't fire at fleeing terrorists).  Thankfully, this time she was caught... but not before costing a young soldier one of his eyes.

So when a musician friend of mine with a personal connection to the drummer of 'Blood Sweat & Tears' emailed me yesterday to say he'd been comp-ed some tickets to their Tel Aviv concert that evening, we jumped at the opportunity to do something spontaneous and fun to raise our spirits.

Zahava and I both grew up listening to 'Blood, Sweat & Tears' at home and on the radio, and my music collection has always included a good sampling of their music; first on vinyl, then on cassette and CD (thankfully I dodged the 8-track bullet).  In fact, one of the reasons I ended up being a professional trombonist (my night gig for almost 18 years) was a chance introduction to a catchy BS&T tune called 'Spinning Wheel' at a friend's house when I was in the 4th grade.

So as soon as I got home from work, Zahava and I jumped into the car, drove to Hashmonaim to pick up our friends, and headed into Tel Aviv for the concert at Hechal HaTarbut.

Free tickets are like free anything... meaning you take what you get and are happy for the gift.  But these seats were primo; dead center about a third of the way back, in the front row of a slightly raised section that has nobody in front of it.  Sweet!  As we got settled and watched the stage crew making final adjustments to the mics, I made a mental note to kiss the drummer after the show for hooking us up!  Just as I was having that thought, the drummer texted our friend telling him to bring everyone back stage after the show to say hello (a shame I wasn't thinking about Moshiach!)

The concert was everything we could have hoped for... and more.  High energy, perfect sound, tight arrangements and pretty much every song for which BS&T had been famous over the years (plus a few covers of jazz and rock tunes from other artists). 

I should point out at this point that there was only one original member of BS&T on stage; Steve Katz.  You see, the band has undergone nearly constant personnel/line-up changes over the years while conitnuing to perform the band's core repertoire.  If you are a 'Princess Bride' fan, picture the constantly changing 'Dread Pirate Roberts'... but with a killer jazz/rock band instead of a pirate ship full of 'scurvy dogs'.  In short, BS&T is more than a band... it's an ongoing institution!

After one of the best shows I've seen in ages, (played to a full house of enthusiastic, appreciative fans), we made our way back stage and hung out with the band in the green room for a little while. 

The guys in the band were really gracious, and the drummer, Andrea Valentini (not to be confused with the female fashion designer of the same name), gave us all big sweaty hugs and kisses (including a very surprised Zahava who didn't manage to duck in time) before offering us all a beer (I declined, being the designated driver). One of the trumpet players asked Zahava where she got her blouse (he wanted to go shopping for his wife the next day) and the bass player complimented her on her head scarf.  All in all, a banner evening for Zahava!  :-)

Thirty minutes later we were back in the car, full of great musical memories and the afterglow of a great evening.  But just as we were getting onto the Ayalon highway, our friend's cell phone rang and I heard him telling his daughter to calm down... that he couldn't understand her through her tears.

Apparently, one of his young daughters had been with some classmates in Jerusalem's Old City during the evening and had been on a bus passing through Kikar Tzahal (a busy intersection outside and just up the street from the Jaffa Gate) just as an Arab terrorist decided to ram his BMW into a crowd of pedestrians (mostly off-duty IDF soldiers who had just been on a tour of the old city), injuring 15... several seriously.  It had all unfolded right next to his daughter's bus (including the killing of the terrorist by an off-duty IDF officer who thankfully had the presence of mind to draw his pistol and fire as soon as the BMW jumped the curb and hit a wall).

Our friend managed to calm his daughter down somewhat and made sure she was safely on her way home before hanging up and calling to wake his sleeping wife at home (she hadn't attended the concert with us because she is in her year of mourning for her father).  He wanted to make sure his wife knew about the terror attack, and that she would be awake to comfort their daughter when she arrived home.

After we dropped everyone off, Zahava and I continued on to our home in Efrat, riding quietly along in the early autumn coolness, lost in our thoughts and experiencing the emotional roller-coaster that is so familiar to most Israelis.

I know it is probably unseemly to contemplate the ruin of our perfect evening's outing when young soldiers have just been maimed by a terrorist.  But everyone here in Israel experiences these tragic events through the prism of our everyday lives. 

Just as Americans remember exactly what they were doing when JFK was shot  or when the Twin Towers came crashing down... so too, Israelis have an endless catalog of mundane personal memories that are book-marked in time by murder and mayhem that amount to nothing more than CNN ticker crawls at the bottom of the TV screen elsewhere in the world. 

In the midst of our happiest moments, our enemies like to remind us of their evil intent.  When making celebrations or simply going out for a casual evening with friends, there is almost always someone present with a hole in their life thanks to the efforts of our enemies.  Even at our weddings - at one of the happiest moment of our lives - we break a glass to remind us that, for the time being, our happiness can't be truly complete.

When we arrived home and got ready for bed, Zahava and I talked briefly about the dichotomy of life here, where one moment you can be experiencing a perfect evening of music with friends, and the next, a ringing cell phone or the radio news breaks a glass in our ear... shattering the sense of normalcy we work so hard to create for ourselves.

As I drifted off to sleep last night, the thought that followed me down into the welcoming nothingness was "...just another day in the Holy Land".  I really wish that meant something else. 

Maybe someday...