Needing WiFi I stop at a cafe called “Hameshulash” – The triangle.
Loud music – the arctic monkeys then Israeli Hebrew punk..
The furniture promises an old fashioned old world atmosphere I need since I have not furnished yet..
Suddenly I find myself surrounded by children the ages of my children but they are not my children..
The night is alive with the lights of the big city Tel Aviv.
I send Switzerland photos of the beach where I had observed beach volleyball in full progress.
No one will complain about a barking dog, or me throwing away trash not neatly separated.
I sit surrounded by 18year Olds who do not feel like talking to someone old enough to be their mother.. They discuss celebrities..
It feels like home – the youth wish to disconnect from the older generation and yet.. It was a magical evening last night with my children, now four hours away by plane..
“really dead”-is the translated name of the band-i ask and am answered by a young curly haired boy with acne..
An 18 year old behind the counter decides the music played.. I would have preferred classic or soft Starbucks sounds that would be in harmony with the old fashioned furniture..
Tomorrow I shall go about building my nest.. throwing away left overs from previous tenants..
“Youth is wasted on the young”-said Oscar Wilde and as I listen to the 18year old behind the counter talk about his social interactions.. He hums ignoring the fact that this cafe is not his private bedroom.. I suffer the noise and sacrifice my ears in favor of the Internet connection, listening to the boy behind the counter repeat the empty angry words..rough Israeli slang hits my ears like sandpaper.. “As if” – young men recently matured into being on their own-as if-and I seek definitions :these young people are cynical and enthusiastic at the same time..
It has been such a long time since I had understood what people I overhear say but now that I understand the words, I realize I no longer understand what young people say and think..
I am like the old fashioned furniture.. And the young pass by me as if I was a chair.
The young me exchange words unaware of my old fashioned existence as “really dead” group sings seemingly meaningless words, I look foreward to the noisy beeping traffic as a relief from the oppression of the loud electronic guitar and screaming sounds they call music..
I am a chair
The young staff rule.
I consider writing an anonymous letter to the owner of the cafe who might be the young long haired big eared boy’s father for all I know.
“Think good thoughts and all will be good ” reads the sign by the Rabbi of Lubbavitzer on a street lamp of the noisy main modern street.
So many contradictions exist side by side here.. I might need to give it time..
And seek an older place..
I sneeze and a passing man mutters” good health ” automatically.
The boy behind the counter discusses with the young waitress her pay and tips. She wears a beige sweater and has Zero service mentality.. I am still only a chair.