"If you will it, Dude, it is no dream."
I open my one hundredth posting to melchett mike with a quote from my all-time favourite movie character, The Big Lebowski's Walter Sobchak.
This Polish-Catholic American convert to Judaism – the brilliant creation of the Coen brothers and John Goodman – was, however, quoting some other dude with a long black beard.
And whiling away the hours at 'our' kiosk on Rothschild yesterday morning – I'm working part-time these days (I am 42, y'know!) – in 27°C heat (nine times the 3°C in my native London) was enough to make me feel that I am living the "dream" . . . if not precisely the one that Theodor Herzl had in mind.
But, whilst we were indulgently licking the ketzef (foam) off our hafuchs (lattes), in Tehran – on the anniversary of the 1979 Islamic Revolution – Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was letting the crowds, but more importantly Iran's enemies, know that his terror state is already producing weapons-grade uranium. And Iran's claim to be a nuclear state, together with yet another call from its President for Israel to "be finished off", makes Tel Aviv's hedonism-as-usual somewhat surreal and me considerably more concerned than I was a few months ago.
Amongst the sun worshippers at our table yesterday morning was Martin Goldberg, a fellow ex-Hasmo (1975-1982).
"I don't worry about things over which I have no control," Martin declared when I brought up the subject of Iran.
But isn't that precisely what we should be worried about?!
The truth is that I don't really worry about such things either. But I certainly do think about them . . . My gas mask – allocated during the Second Intifada, in 2000 – was collected a couple of years ago, but never replaced. Where is my "local" (bomb shelter)? Even if I find it, would there really be any point in going in?
Would Stuey and Dexxy be allowed in? And, should the unthinkable become the inevitable, would there be a mass exodus from Ben Gurion?
I, for one, certainly won't be going anywhere . . . other than, perhaps, to my mother's in Netanya (surely the poisonous Persian dwarf isn't interested in ex-pat octogenarians playing bridge by the sea?)
Whilst it is always depressing to hear about incidents like those at the University of California and Oxford Union, earlier in the week – the sooner these knuckle-draggers find their caves in Afghanistan the better – there are no shortage of idiots here. And, though (unlike The Jerusalem Post) a proper newspaper, the daily, intellectual masturbation (left hand) in Ha'aretz never ceases to vex.
In Wednesday's edition, for instance, the Israeli novelist and playwright, A.B. Yehoshua – who, displaying such childlike naïvety, should probably be renamed A.B.C. Yehoshua – opined that peace with the Palestinians would neutralise the Iranian threat.
By Jove, A.B., so simple! So brilliant! Why didn't we think of that?! A quick, lasting peace with the Palestinians . . .
What planet do these tossers live on? Ahmadinejad is motivated by an Islamofascist hatred of Jews, not love for the Palestinians. And, until the last one of us has turned out the lights – or until he has, Allah forbid – he won't rest.
Now is not the time for intellectualising or infighting – though we Jews excel at both – but for solidarity. After all, which of us would really want to be in Bibi's or Barak's shoes at this critical juncture in Jewish history?
The very best that we can hope for now is that the little brown Hitler will soon, somehow, be deposed. Otherwise, quoting our antihero Walter once again, Iran may well be "entering a world of pain".
In order to protect "three thousand years of beautiful tradition, from Moses to Sandy Koufax," Israel will need to be prepared for all eventualities – even to "roll on Shabbos" – and will have to summon a different type of "will" than that referred to by Herzl.
It had better be an iron strong one.
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