Open Letter to Betty F.S.H. in Israel

Dearest Betty!

You just made my day.

You can’t imagine how happy your comment to my post of January 17 made me. For a variety of reasons.

First off, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to urge, coerce, wheedle, whine, and beg you to start a blog. But I felt guilty about doing so because writing is not everyone’s thing, even though you and shared the inspiring words of Mrs. Ohlsen lo! those many years ago in the hallowed halls of Cal State L.A. And that, my friend, is a run-on sentence the likes of which Mrs. Ohlsen would be appalled at. Also ending a sentence with a preposition. Also sentence fragments.

But consider this:

* How many of us have abandoned the ideal job as an insurance adjuster in Southern California for the wilds of a kibbutz at the tail-end of the Sea of Galilee just three miles from the Golan Heights?

* How many of us spent six months as a volunteer on said kibbutz willingly mucking out cow stalls and peeling bushels of potatoes (not at the same time, of course).

* How many of us then came back to the states and converted to Judaism (even though she has a Jewish father) so she could make Aliyah?

* How many of us hid in the bathroom as Saddam rained scud missiles overhead?

* How many of us have photos of ourselves wearing gas masks in said bathroom?

* Who among us spent years working as an administrative assistant in a valve factory in said kibbutz?

* Who else is married to a lovable Bear?

You have tales to tell, my dearest pal, and little enough time to tell them. Please get started now.

And those are just the bare-bones stories I know. I, for one, want to hear those stories again from you and all the rest that I haven’t heard.

Think of all the adventures we had before you left for Israel? I’d like to hear your side of those.

So, pal of mine, by now you should have received an email in which I’ve told you how to get started on your blogging career. From there it’s up to you.

I can’t wait!

Love, meeeeeeeee