I've been meaning to post. Really, I have. But then I get home from work, and I can't remember any of the thoughts and random observations that I had intended to post. I need to start jotting down said thoughts and random observations. Or else I need to devise a telepathic blog, that reads my mind and posts my thoughts for me.
That would actually be pretty cool, now that I think of it. Dangerous, though. There are a lot of rather bizarre things that go through my head, which probably should not be unleashed and allowed into the Blogosphere.
I will try to do better with the blogging. So, for starters, I'll recap one of my favorite moments from my vacation...
My first weekend in Israel was spent in the Old City. Actually, both my weekends were spent there, but this story concerns the first one. It was Sunday night, and I was coming back from the Kotel. As I approached the Cardo, I could hear singing, and, being my normal inquisitive self, I went to go investigate.
The singing was coming from three guys, most likely yeshiva bochurs, but more of the crunchy guitar-playing variety than the black pants and white shirt variety. Indeed, one of them was playing a guitar, while one of his friends danced. Zemer after zemer they sang, and the one guy continued o play whil his friend continued to dance. At one point, a young haredi boy came to dance as well. Shortly after, a group of five or six yeshiva bochurs (this time, the black pants, white shirt kind) joined in the singing and dancing as well. All along the steps surrounding the Cardo, other men stood and clapped and sang along. The entire area was ringing with their voices and the echoes of the clapping. And the most beautiful part of all was that there was not blatant reason for the singing. The only simcha was that it was Sunday, and they were in the Old City.
And that was simcha enough.