There's something about the holiday season in Israel that makes me realize that there's no place I'd rather be at this time of the year. In some respects, it reminds me of the Christmas season in the US. The excitement and anticipation in the air are palpable, and talk inevitably turns to holiday plans. Strangers smile at one another and exchange holiday greetings as everyone gears up for the feasts and festivals that lie ahead, and inboxes are filled with electronic cards and wishes. At work yesterday, we gorged ourselves on the annual festive holiday meal served in the dining room, and found ourselves back there two hours later for a company toast of wine and sinfully delicious desserts. Leaving the office, I cheerfully exchanged my customary goodbyes for "happy new year" and "happy holidays", receiving smiles and holiday wishes in return.
Of course, given the events of last week, my usual joy is tainted with sorrow and feelings of loss, but life goes on, and given that we will have a house full of people tonight, sitting around in mourning isn't really an option. Fortunately, my sister-in-law, who loves to cook (which would be the exact opposite of me), is bringing nearly all of the food with her. Still, there's much to be done, especially as I have real work to do as well.
As you've probably guessed by now, my sense of humor is often rather quirky and off-beat. I appreciate intelligent, wry commentary, and would be lying if I didn't say that one of my favorite pastimes is exchanging clever, witty banter with friends online, either via email or using any one of my growing collection of chat applications. The writer in me enjoys using words this way, and I find myself drawn to people who can keep up the pace. Words are both magical and powerful, and there are few things that attract my attention more than people who know how to use them well, especially if the words make me laugh and think, and allow for an ongoing exchange in the same vein.
I've had (and continue to have) friendships and relationships that began as a result of my admiration for an individual's writing skills, though obviously, the relationships, as they grew, were not solely based on this one trait. When it comes to entertainment, I tend to prefer high-brow stand-up comedy. Low-brow, lewd, sex jokes do not impress me, nor does the gratuitous use of swearing, for despite the fact that I can and do curse like a truck driver under certain circumstances, if you look carefully through this blog, you will find very few such words among my entries. It's not my style, and it's not the way that I choose to communicate while writing. As in my friendships, I gravitate towards performers who make me think as well as laugh, and if they can intelligently incorporate current events into the act, then so much the better. And because I'm sure that you're dying to know, yes, I do have a favorite. While not a stand-up comedian in the traditional sense, this individual's talent for side-splittingly humorous commentary is unparalleled.
Given my addiction to passion for current events and politics, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I would gravitate towards the material of the incredibly talented Tom Lehrer. His songs are timeless, and I sometimes find it rather shocking that lyrics he wrote in the early 1960s are just as relevant today as when they were originally written. I can't decide if that says more about his uncanny understanding of popular culture or the sadly predictable state of the world. I think I wore out my copy of "That Was the Year That Was", a live album released in 1965, and favorite tunes include "National Brotherhood Week" (a toe-tapping ditty about race relations), "MLF Lullaby" (a charming little tune about the Multilateral Forces), "Smut" ("I do have a cause, though. It is 'obscenity'. I'm for it...") and "Vatican Rag" (everything you wanted to know about Catholicism but were afraid to ask...). While I'm not going to link to all the songs on the album, if you're up for a laugh, I'd strongly recommend taking a glance at all of his lyrics, which can be found on this website. There are also clips for many of the songs on YouTube, which are definitely worth checking out.
As I mentioned above, many of his tunes are still relevant today, whether it be "So Long, Mom" (about a young soldier going off to fight in World War 3) or "Who's Next" (a song about the nuclear arms race). Check out the clip below for a spot-on assessment of American foreign policy.
(Lyrics for all Tom Lehrer songs can be found here.)
If you'd like to listen to "This Was the Year that Was" in full, some kind soul has been thoughtful enough to upload it to YouTube in sections:
Disclaimer: Drinking liquids is not recommended while listening to Tom Lehrer. If you choose to do so, it is at your own risk. Your snarfing is not my responsibility.
*The title of this post is the last line of the Tom Lehrer song "Folk Song Army".
So yes, it's true. We've survived another visit from the parents. We survived the inevitable, disgusting heat that summer in Israel brings, and for the most part, we did our best to stay away from the blistering sun. We played tourist and tour guide, and somehow, despite the fact that they've been to visit us nearly every year for the past 16 years (have I really been living here for 16 years? Wow...), we still manage to take them places they've never been, and often, never even heard of before. The Sanhedrin burial caves at Beit Shearim, which I mentioned in a previous post, is one such place. The Little One delighted in running around the caves, descending steep stairs and climbing in and out of the various cave openings. Note the Husband in the shot below, entering one such cave as though it were Platform 9 and ¾ at King's Cross Station in London.
Forced into a state of semi-vacation mode, we found ourselves dining in a variety of restaurants around the north and center of the country. Fish and seafood was often the order of the day, and dining beachside on the Mediterranean was a regular occurrence. This picture was taken from our table at Manta Ray, where Savta Dotty and I switched plates about midway through the main course.
At "Ha'kdera Shel Noga", located on Moshav Beit Shearim, the spring chicken was a big hit.
While in Jerusalem (following a trip to the Sorek Stalactite/Stalagmite Caves outside of Beit Shemesh), we sat for a late lunch at a restaurant downtown, just off of Hillel Street. Sadly, the name of both the restaurant and the street it's on escape me (Help me, Jerusalemites! The side street has Blockbuster and Aroma on either corner of Hillel...), but I'm certain that we will make it a point to go back there whenever we find ourselves requiring sustenance in the capital. You know how it is. You enter a restaurant and peruse the menu. Sometimes, you can't find anything that strikes your fancy, while other times, there are so many mouthwatering choices that you just can't decide what you'd prefer. In this case, it was definitely the latter. I ordered the sweet potato ravioli while Mom and Dad both chose the eggplant and goat cheese ravioli. You have no idea... So, so good...
We spent one day up in Acco, wandering around the Old City and taking in the sites that Husband and I had somehow missed on all of our previous trips. I've always liked Acco, despite the fact that I find quite a few of the restaurants there to be a bit overrated, with the unpredictable service often found in establishments where the staff have an overdeveloped (and in many cases, undeserved) sense of importance. The antiquities are impressive, though, and the architecture is striking. Beware of shop owners who may take issue with your attire, especially if you happen to be a woman in a tank top and shorts.
And of course, all of this running around was simply the backdrop for the main event – allowing a certain little boy spend time with his grandparents. During our trip to the US in April, it was amazing to watch the Little One come to the realization that he would be unable to get by solely in Hebrew and slowly but surely switched to English in order to make himself understood. Following our return, he continued to use English, but as time passed, he eventually reverted back to Hebrew. In the company of his grandparents, he once again found himself in a situation that required him to speak English, and while he stumbled occasionally, his ability to switch back and forth upon request was great fun to observe, especially as he switched between accents as well.
On the morning of my parents' departure, the Little One and I were sitting together on the couch. I told him that I was sad because his grandparents had left. I was once again reminded of how much I love my son when he responded by patting my head and saying, "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll stay with you. I'll take care of you." When the Husband returned from the airport he was told, "Mommy's a little sad. She needs a hug and a kiss." And these are the moments that get me through the day, helping me to preserve my sanity as we watch "Toy Story" yet again (giving the phrase "to infinity and beyond" a whole new meaning), and I am told that I'm no longer his friend because I've cut off the cookie supply. Aaah, the joys of motherhood...
The photos below were taken at the ancient port in Caesarea.
(Some of the above photos were taken by me, while others - the better ones - are courtesy of my mother.)
Growing up in the 1980s, I'd never heard the term "hip hop", and "rap" was a fairly new phenomenon; at least it was for me. In my high school, we had students who did their best to emulate the "white-gloved one" by moonwalking, and we were all trying (and mostly failing, with few exceptions) to breakdance. Living in suburbia, our music of choice tended to be new wave, with some daring to go "punk". Looking back now at the artists and songs that were popular way back when, though perhaps distinct from other genres, they all more or less fit into the same mold, a mold that groups nearly all the songs of the day under the generic title of "80s" music.
That being said, there were also a number of songs that didn't fit the mold, songs that were so different as to be exciting, songs that took us by surprise and made us stop, think, and simply admire the originality. Today's choice is one such song, and not only does it fall into categories mentioned in this feature in earlier entries (songs with unintelligible lyrics performed by artists who meet the "one-hit wonder" definition), it's a song that was far ahead of its time in terms of its use of sound and technique.
When it was released in 1984, "Jam-On It" became an immediate hit. We all sang along, despite a complete inability to understand the lyrics (for a while, we were convinced that "jam-on it" actually rhymed with "Zamboni" which, as every hockey fan knows, is the machine used to resurface an ice rink). While the trailblazing artists behind this song, Newcleus, are still together, they have, as far as I know, never been able to match the success of "Jam-On It".
Jam-On It Newcleus
Yeah Jam on it (Yeah, yeah, we know, we know) Huh (Yeah, Goggles, you gonna rock it, right) (You gonna do it down, right) Ha-ha-ha-ha, yeah (Hey, Cozmo, what's the name of this again) (I forgot) Jam on it (Oh) (Oh, Chilly B, get down, ho) (Oh, oh, here comes Cozmo) (Ho) (We get to say wikki-wikki-wikki again)
Three words to the whack, step yourself back Just gettin' down, and you then you're givin' no slack Like a Burger King with a sack of Big Macs We're throwin' down with the radical sacks On time, in your mind you see You gotta boogie to your best ability You gotta funk it up until it knocks you down And when you're funkin' up, be sure to pass it around Come on, let's go to work We got what'll make your body jerk Make you throw your hands up in the air Shake your booty and scream, "Oh, yeah" 'Cause we are the Jam On Crew And jammin' on it is how we do the do We'll funk you up until you boogie down So come people check out the sound Check out the sound, check out the sound, check out the sound, check out the sound Check out the sound, check out the sound, check out the sound, check out the sound Check out the sound
(Jam on it)
There's going to sound They're going to get down
(Jam on it)
Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Chilly B And I'm a surefire, full blooded bonafide house rockin' Jam-On Production MC If you want the best, put me to the test, and I'm sure you'll soon agree That I got no force 'cause I'm down by law when it comes to rockin' viciously, you see 'Cause when I was a little baby boy my mama gave me a brand new toy Two turn tables with a mic, and I learned to rock like Dolymite Time went by, on this God creation, I knew someday I would rock the nation So I made up my mind just what to do and I joined with the Jam On Production Crew So go crazy, go crazy, don't let your body be lazy I said don't stop the body rock till your eyesight starts to get hazy Clean out your ears and you open your eye, if you wanna hear the music just come alive If you don't know how get ready to learn 'Cause Cozmo's takin' his turn to burn
Take the "C" and "O" and the "Z" Then they add "M-O" and the freaky "D" Add a funky beat, and then what do you see It's Cozmo D, yeah, baby, that's me I've got the beat that's, oh, so sweet Without me rockin' it's incomplete So rock this, yo', rock that, yo' Rock on and don't you dare stop You rock this, rock that, and that's a fact 'Cause the Jam On Crew will rock your body right back Rock a steam locomo ride off the track And give the whole wide world a funk attack A to the beat y'all, get down Let me rock it to the rhythm of the funk sound From hill to hill, from sea to sea A when Jam On's rockin' everybody (Jam on it) Jam on it Jam on and on, on and on it And if you're feelin' like you wanna dance all night They go on ahead and flaunt it 'Cause jammin' on is what we do best It's what separates us from the rest And if you go deep, I'll cruise down for real Let me tell what happened to the man of steel
(Said Superman had come to town to see who he could rock) (He blew away every crew he faced until he reached the block) (His speakers were three stories high with woofers made of steel) (And when we boys sit outside, he said "I boom for real") He said, "I'm faster than a speedin' bullet when I'm on the set I don't need no fans to cool my a**, I just use my super breath I could fly three times around the world without missin' a beat I socialize with X-ray eyes, and ladies think it's sweet (And then he turned his power on and the ground began to move) (And all the buildings for miles around were swayin' to the groove) (And just when he had fooled the crowd and swore he wouldn't fight) We rocked this bet with a 12 inch cut called Disco Kryptonite Well, Superman looked up at me, he said, "You rock so naturally" I said now that you've learned to deal, let me tell you why I'm so for real I'm Cozmo D from outer space, I came to rock the human race I do it right 'cause I can't do it wrong That's why the whole world is singin' this song
(Jam on it) Jam on it I said jam-j-j-jam on it As days turn to night and night turns to day Whatever time it is i wanna hear you say (Jam on it) Jam on it I said jam on-on-on, jam on it Jam all around and upside down And keep jammin' to the Jam On Production sound
(Jam on it) Jam on it I said jam-j-j-jam on it I said Jam On is the funky beat that takes control With a sure shot boogie that'll rock your soul (Jam on it) Jam on it I said jam-j-j-jam on it Get outta your seat and jam to the beat And don't you dare stop till early mornin'
Jam on it, jam on it, jam on it, jam on it, jam on it, jam on it, jam on it, jam on it
(Yeah, that's how you do it Cozmo) (You were right, kid, that's the way you do it) (Yeah, like did you see when he went in the corner) (And he started doin' this) (Wikki-wikki-wikki-wikki) (Wikki-wikki-wikki-wikki)
(Ah, man, this is too funky for me) (I'm goin' home) (Hey, Mergatroid, let's go) (Hey, you fellas seen my sister Mergatroid) (She was standin' over here just a minute ago) (Yeah, I think I saw her over there with Randy) (He's rockin' the mic, you know) (Diggy dang diggy dang da dang dang da diggy diggy diggy dang dang) (Diggy dang diggy diggy)
(The beat is fresh y'all) (Yeah, fresh)
Said don't you hear the sound Jam On is gettin' down
After graduating from college, I travelled to Israel for what was supposed to be ten-months. Four months on, I met the Husband. Once my ten-month program was complete, I opted to stay for the summer, and we moved in together. Towards the end of the summer, when we were discussing my immediate plans, I remarked that if we could get a puppy, I'd stay. Fifteen years later, I'm still here, but sadly, that "puppy" is no longer with us.
There's one band out there that can put me in a good mood more than any other group or solo artist. When depressed, I often put on one of their CDs (or cassettes) at high volume, and the music almost never fails to bring a smile to my face. If I've got a stack of dishes to wash or have to do some cleaning around the house, I know that I can do it faster if I'm singing along to this group.
The Beach Boys were formed back in 1961, and have been making music ever since. Changes to the group lineup may have slowed them down at times, but they always managed to roar back to life with their distinct, fabulous sound. I know the words to nearly all of their songs, and have seen them perform live twice. The first time was at Tanglewood, located in the beautiful Berkshires region of Western Massachusetts. I went with my friend Jenny, who had come for a visit so that we could go to the concert, and we stayed at my family's lakeside cabin in Lee. It was, of course, an amazing concert, and there are a few moments that I've managed to retain in my aging memory.
We went to the concert during the summer after I returned from my year in Israel. I still had pins in my ankle from having broken it while abroad, and when we wanted to stick around for a bit after the concert, I used my ankle as an excuse when a security guard asked us to leave. I told him I needed to rest for a bit and let him feel my ankle. The moment he realized that he was touching screws, he pulled his hand back as though he'd touched dog poo, said we could stay as long as was needed, and then ran away. When we finally decided to leave, we made our way to the parking lot. We found the spot where we'd left the car, or rather, where we thought we'd left the car. We couldn't find the car! We wandered around and around in the lot, wondering where the car had disappeared to. Suddenly, we noticed people walking past our parking lot, which is when we realized that there was more than one parking lot. Sheepishly, we joined the parade of post-concert goers and found our car just where we'd left it – in the other parking lot.
The second Beach Boys concert that I attended was at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center. It was a few days before my wedding (which would make it exactly 14 years ago, as our 14th anniversary is later this week), and I went with my soon-to-be husband and his sister; somehow, we'd managed to snag seats in the first row of the balcony. We sang along with the opening act, America (at least I think it was them), and once The Beach Boys came on stage, we started dancing as well. Lots of room to dance in the first row of the balcony, and the completely unobstructed view was simply outstanding.
Unfortunately, I haven't had a chance to get to any Beach Boys concerts since then. I keep waiting for them to come to Israel, but so far, there's been no "Love" on these shores. This band always makes me think of summer, and I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate mark the end of summer vacation than to feature a song by The Beach Boys for today's edition of 80s Music Video Sunday. And those of you who grew up watching TV in the 80s should definitely recognize the drummer...
Kokomo The Beach Boys
Aruba, Jamaica ooo I wanna take ya Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go Jamaica
Off the Florida Keys There's a place called Kokomo That's where you wanna go to get away from it all
Bodies in the sand Tropical drink melting in your hand We'll be falling in love To the rhythm of a steel drum band Down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take ya To Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo We'll get there fast And then we'll take it slow That's where we wanna go Way down to Kokomo
To Martinique, that Monserrat mystique
We'll put out to sea And we'll perfect our chemistry By and by we'll defy a little bit of gravity
Afternoon delight Cocktails and moonlit nights That dreamy look in your eye Give me a tropical contact high Way down in Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take you To Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo We'll get there fast And then we'll take it slow That's where we wanna go Way down to Kokomo
Port Au Prince, I wanna catch a glimpse
Everybody knows A little place like Kokomo Now if you wanna go And get away from it all Go down to Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take you To Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go
Ooo I wanna take you down to Kokomo We'll get there fast And then we'll take it slow That's where we wanna go Way down to Kokomo
Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take you To Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama Key Largo, Montego, baby why don't we go
Well hey there everyone. I didn't mean to pull a runner yesterday, but life has been totally hectic with my parents here, unexpected deadlines at work and so on. We've been running around the country, hitting such spots as the Sanhedrin burial caves at Beit Shearim, the old city in Acco, the Neve Tzedek neighborhood and Jerusalem. I'll write a more extensive post with photos after they leave tomorrow and life has returned more or less to normal (it won't return to complete normalcy until the Little One has returned to pre-school next Sunday), but just wanted to mention a few of the highlights of their visit.
The Jerusalem Time Elevator. We went yesterday, and the effects were great! The seats move in accordance with what you're seeing on the screen, and it was brilliant. I did feel sorry for the couple that took the "walk of shame", though. Part way through the film, there was a pause and the lights came on, and the reason for the pause (announced, of course) was that someone in the moving seats wasn't feeling well, and had asked to move to the stationery seats (and no, it wasn't me!). We all sat and watched as a young couple made their way to the new seats quickly and silently, before the lights were dimmed once again and the movie restarted.
Manta Ray. My parents and I spent a fabulous day in Tel Aviv with Savta Dotty, whom they met when we were all in Florida in April. Savta Dotty took us to lunch at Manta Ray, making her a star forever in my parents' eyes. The food was divine. The dessert was unbelievable. Sitting at a table overlooking the Mediterranean, we chatted over the salads, laughed over the fish and seafood, drooled over the chocolate concoction with four spoons moving furiously between plates and mouths. The service was excellent, and we will definitely be going back. Lunch was followed by a stroll through Neve Tzedek, where we wandered around the grounds of the Suzanne Dellal Center, strolled in and out of the small galleries and shops scattered about the neighborhood (which is undergoing some serious gentrification these days), and even managed to acquire a beautiful necklace from the gallery of Ayala Bar, as Savta Dotty found herself an amazing pair of earrings.
The Sanhedrin burial caves. The contents of the caves were interesting to see, and given the fabulously cool temperatures underground, this place is the perfect outdoor summer excursion. From the caves, we went to lunch on Moshav Beit Shearim, and dined at a restaurant called "Ha'kdera Shel Noga" (Noga's Stew). To put it mildly, the food was simply outstanding, not to mention beautifully presented. The setting was gorgeous, the service was excellent, and don't forget to order the parfait for dessert.
Anyway, that's about all I have time for at the moment. Stay tuned for more details (and photos) later on in the week…
To the well-spoken anonymous commenter who left the most recent anonymous comment regarding the "Diplomatic Post" magazine, please contact me offline ASAP using the email address I've given in the "Send me an email" link. My editor would very much like to publish your comment as a "Letter to the Editor" (as he indicated below your comment), but he cannot do so as long as you remain anonymous.
While I've always enjoyed their music, for some reason, I never found myself mooning over Duran Duran the way that so many other females of my generation did back in the 80s. I suppose I liked their songs, but never felt the need to purchase their albums or buy tickets to their concerts. I wasn't drawn to them like I was drawn to so many other artists of the time, and I really can't put my finger on why that might be. Maybe I just found them to be too popular, and given that I was something of a loner, their music just didn't speak to me. Maybe they were just a bit too mainstream and too "pretty" for my tastes. Even today, while I certainly don't have a problem with their music, I can also admit that I don't really have any Duran Duran songs among my massive collection of 80s tunes (though I do have a bit of a soft spot for Simon LeBon, since discovering that he spent some time here on a kibbutz when he was younger).
That being said, though, there is one Duran Duran song that I've always really liked, and even went so far as to purchase the single. The sound, different from many of their other popular songs, really appealed to me, and still does. Enjoy!
(Sorry this post is so short – I'm totally swamped today and time is of the essence...)
Save a Prayer Duran Duran
You saw me standing by the wall, corner of a main street And the lights are flashing on your window sill All alone ain't much fun, so you're looking for the thrill And you know just what it takes and where to go
Don't save a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after No, don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after
Feel the breeze deep on the inside, look you down into the well If you can, you'll see the world in all his fire Take a chance (like all dreamers can't find another way) You don't have to dream it all, just live a day
Don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after No, don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after Save it 'til the morning after, save it till the morning after
Pretty looking road, I try to hold the rising floods that fill my skin Don't ask me why I'll keep my promise, I'll melt the ice And you wanted to dance so I asked you to dance But fear is in your soul Some people call it a one night stand But we can call it paradise
Don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after No, don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after Save it 'til the morning after Save it 'til the morning after Save it 'til the morning after Save it 'til the morning after
Life is hectic hectic hectic these days. While trying to meet my deadlines for the next edition of the Diplomatic Post, I've also been blogging over at Israelity, getting work done at the day job, trying to clean up the house in prior to my parents' arrival last Thursday afternoon and fighting off a stomach virus. I was supposed to attend what promised to be an interesting meeting last Wednesday, but my stomach wasn't having any of it, and it looks like I'll have to play catch-up by picking the brains of those friends whose health was clearer in better shape than mine.
I've also gotten myself marginally involved in another project of interest. As those of you who read this blog are probably aware, the journey to bring the Little One into the world was not a journey of smooth sailing. There were problems every step of the way, and more than our fair share of tragedies. After we lost our first son, I made a promise to myself that whenever I could draw on my experiences to help others, I would do so. For me, doing so would mean that everything we had been through had not been completely in vain. Several months ago, I was contacted by Angie Boss, co-author of a book called "Living with PCOS". She and her co-author, Evelina Sterling (herself the author of a book about egg donation), were in the process of writing a new book about funding fertility treatments. Angie had come across my blog, liked what she'd read, and wondered if I would be interested in sharing different aspects of my story for her book. I was happy to help, and am pleased to have the opportunity to take part in a project that will help other women who are going through experiences similar to mine. After coming to an agreement with regard to certain technical aspects of my contribution, I sent Angie several pages that I'd written, and in subsequent correspondence, she asked if I would mind posting the text to below to my blog. I periodically receive similar requests, and those most are turned down as a matter of my own personal policy, I was happy to acquiesce to Angie's request. Take a moment to read it. If you or someone you know can help, please do so. Most of the people I know who have gone through fertility treatments of one kind or another have always been hungry for information on all aspects of the subject, including myself. I read anything I could get my hands on (especially personal stories), so the more information that's out there, the better.
The Request...
"We are currently co-authoring a new book to be published by Simon &Schuster next fall called "Funding Fertility—How to Bring Home a Baby without Breaking the Bank." In this book, we address many of the barriers associated with paying for the high costs related to infertility treatments and adoption. This includes the "sticker shock" that we all get when we find out how much everything is going to cost, how to make cost-effective decisions (i.e., finding cheaper medication options, selecting certain clinics, undergoing certain procedures, considering "special deals") without sacrificing quality of care, actually having to come up with the money without completing going broke, dealing with insurance companies and the lack of coverage, and much, much more.
WE NEED YOUR HELP!!! We are currently compiling stories from people struggling with infertility (or considering adoption)—either currently, in the past, or in the future—to include in our book. These stories can highlight the good, the bad, or the ugly in terms of having to come up with the money to pay for your treatments and/or adoption. Through this book, we hope to shed more light on this nearly completely fee-for-service (and not covered by insurance!) side of medicine so we can allow more of the 10 million people out there experiencing infertility access to the ability to have a baby that they so desperately want without having to suffer financially. Having a baby should be a basic human right available to everyone, not a commodity in which some people make a lot of money! Please help us change the current system for the better by sharing your stories and experiences.
You can remain anonymous and all correspondence will be treated with utmost confidentiality. PLEASE SEND ALL STORIES, EXPERIENCES, AND QUESTIONS TO FUNDINGFERTILITY@YAHOO.COM.
Forced into a state of semi-vacation mode, we found ourselves dining in a variety of restaurants around the north and center of the country. Fish and seafood was often the order of the day, and dining beachside on the Mediterranean was a regular occurrence. This picture was taken from our table at 
At "Ha'kdera Shel Noga", located on Moshav Beit Shearim, the spring chicken was a big hit.
While in Jerusalem (following a trip to the 
