Feeding Holy Cats

Sunday December 26, 1999 I received a phone call from one of my co-workers asking if I could leave for Israel three days later because she was sick and couldn’t go. A solid three seconds of thought later I had determined that there was absolutely no reason why I couldn’t. So I did. And there I was for ten days leading a group of college students around the Holy Land with my guitar at hand and cats everywhere.

This book isn’t really about the cats, but trust me, they were there; at the Western Wall, on top of Masada, in front of the desert hotel at four in the morning, and outside of Mr. Li’s Kosher Chinese Food restaurant in Jerusalem. What can one say? “Meow,” I suppose.

Israel is an amazing country. At any location you are a stone’s throw from several other countries. If you’ve ever watched the news, you know that sometimes stones are thrown.

Everything in Israel is at least four thousand years old. Even the buildings constructed
last week are four thousand years old. It’s just how it works there. Have you ever been in
a four thousand year old building? Don’t answer now. Just find one and go in. All the people are also four thousand years old. You can see it in the eyes of the men selling spices in Jerusalem’s Jewish Market. You can see it in the eyes of the eighteen year old rifle toting soldiers standing next to flower stands before Shabbat. You can see it in the eyes of Israeli babies. Four thousand years old . . .

So there I was, amidst everything old, using my poet’s eye to see, and my poet’s pen to remember. It’s all about remembering . . . I hope the glossary helps.

......................................................................March 3, 2000