March 27, 2024

Joseph Zitt's [as if in dreams] 2024-03-26

Hi. I'm Joseph Zitt. I moved from the US to Israel in 2017. This is my newsletter about more-or-less daily life in my city in the shadow of war. You can select these links to subscribe or unsubscribe. There are more links at the bottom. You can also read this email online here. Here we go...

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Two women (one older, with a walker; one younger, who may be her daughter) step slowly onto the elevator. I hold out my arm to block the doors from closing until they're in. I know there's a button to hold the doors open, but I press the wrong one about half the time.

The women smile at me when they're onboard. I smile back. They're speaking a mix of Hebrew and Russian that I can't understand. It's like I'm overhearing a local theater version of A Clockwork Orange or The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

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I tell a friend that train service to and from the north is increasing. He commutes on those trains. He's not surprised. "The trains used to be almost empty. They're full now. People are afraid to use the buses. Each train station has police and soldiers and communication with the trains. With buses, you go a long time and a long way, and anyone could be on it, carrying anything. It's not safe."

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That said, a new "Transport Fairness" initiative has gone into effect.¹ In this first phase, soldiers who have been drafted get to ride free for the first year after they're done. There are also discounts for other groups: the disabled, people living in the farther edges of the country, and people 26 and younger.

Right now, people over 75 ride free. They're planning to extend that to men over 67 and women over 62 soon, once they figure out how to fund it. I'm looking forward to that, though not holding my breath. I'll get to use it in a year and a half, if it actually happens.

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A report tells us that ten percent of retirees have needed help affording food since the war started. Food insecurity has gotten worse in recent months.²

Fortunately, in a rare example of the government actually trying to do something, the Ministry of Agriculture has announced are saying that they intend to address the problem.³ They have created a proposal to make a move to put together a team to create a plan to institute a new program. As government work goes, this is progress.

What the article describes sounds promising:

"The program will strive to ensure the local food production capacity, and the regular supply of healthy and high-quality food at affordable prices. The program will also emphasize the issue of sustainability, and climate-adapted food systems will be promoted."

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Our Minister of National Security has broken the law again. This time, he has published a photo on Facebook of a minor who was arrested.⁴ You can't do that here.

It's far from the first time that he's been in trouble with the law.⁵ And now he's in charge of the police. You may remember him as the guy who recently tried to snoop around a police station near here in disguise. The police, from what I can see, aren't pleased.

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It looks like at least some of the 7-Eleven shops that have opened around here are going to shut down.⁶ They had planned to create thirty of them around the country. Only eight opened, all in one city, and they're not doing well.

The two of them that I've been in seemed cramped. There isn't room here for the wider aisles they have in the States. They seemed kind of like miniature 7-Eleven theme parks. I got a Slurpee at each, for old times' sake, but didn't see much of a reason to return.

American franchises often don't do well here. Starbucks, KFC, and others have come and gone, though there is a rather good Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf in the capitol, and McDonald's and Burger King are everywhere.

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A cul-de-sac on my way home has been completely dug up. I have to walk out into the street, around trucks blocking the entrance, to get past it. I'm surprised. They've dug it all up in the couple of days since I last went by.

They had done some work on it a while back. I don't think they finished what they had planned. It looks like layers of asphalt had been lazily dropped onto the roadbed, causing lumps and overlaps.

I don't have any trouble seeing where I'm going. They have the usual overly bright lights that shine on these things. I have a feeling that they want to be done with it quickly. A lot of residents live around it and park on it. I hope they actually complete the work this time.

Further down, on the pedestrian street, ten cats pass me in waves. The first two are running around the feet of a couple walking past. Another cat joins them. I think these humans may be the ones who lay out food each night.

Another cat zooms by then stops. The people and the first three cats have rounded the corner and disappeared. This latest cat turns and looks up at me pleadingly. "Sorry, wrong human," I tell it. "The ones you want went thataway." I point. It doesn't understand.

Four more cats show up further down the street. They emerge in two pairs from facing gates. Each pair seems annoyed that the other is there. One of each pair stares at each other, nose to nose. They circle each other and hiss. It's as if the cast of Michael Jackson's "Bad" had decided to audition for Cats. Or maybe vice versa.

The last two cats show up after I turn onto my own street. They wander past me nonchalantly. Maybe they have already eaten. Maybe they don't want to. Or maybe they just want to show the human that they are the ultimate in cool.

As I walk by my landlords' porch, I see that most of the cat hotel has been dismantled. All but one box have been stacked up against the other wall. That box remains in place, next to a pillow on which I've seen the cats rest. By Passover, we'll be sure that rain is over. For the rest of spring or summer, the hotel will be closed.

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Here’s an archive of past newsletters.

You can find me via email, Bluesky, Mastodon, Facebook, and, just out of inertia, X/Twitter. There's more about me and my books, music, and films at josephzitt.com.

The newsletter’s official mailing address is 304 S. Jones Blvd #3567, Las Vegas NV 89107. (I’m in Israel, but if physical mail comes to me at that Las Vegas address, it’ll get scanned and emailed. I don’t expect that to happen much. If you want to send me physical mail, ask me for a real address.)

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L'hitraot.