One of my socks was lying on its own, partnerless in my sock drawer, and the other was in my son’s sock-and-underwear drawer. Perhaps this is bliss. Bliss, happiness, etc. is to be found in the little things, so I didn’t go to the fireworks yesterday, despite something in me that insisted I must (more of that part in a moment) it being Independence Day and all. I didn’t. I was sure I would be overexcited and annoyed. I saved my energies for today, and we went, walked to the port, where we saw the energetic flight display of several jet formations. Immensely attractive, these sleek military aircraft, soaring through the sky to pierce the sun.
In the afternoon I slept and dreamt of a guy who was perfectly content to sleep on a table shelf. The table had an upper surface to write on plus a lower shelf, a large shelf he could sleep on. The table didn’t even belong to him, it belonged to a friend of mine, who used the upper surface while he was ensconced in the lower one. And this went on for years, this unconventional arrangement in my dream.
Perhaps the dream was in response to the jets, so high and strong. We need these super sophisticated super expensive instruments, obviously, to protect out precarious existence in this part of the world. We can’t do without them. We’ve already lived on the lower shelf in someone else’s desk so to speak, and it didn’t work out. So now we’re going in the opposite direction, spending large amounts on mere physical protection. Just focusing on the physical albeit very photogenic aspect of life.
A family next to us at the air-show, with two kids and a youngish looking grandmother, wasn’t having an easy time of it. Raising children while getting along with your spouse and your mother in law isn’t easy. Can be ego-crushing. If you lived in a table you wouldn’t need to get along with your children’s grandmother. You would be taking up so little space almost no one would know of your existence.
There is this famous Israeli song:
You won’t find its address
It’s inside a box
In such a difficult world
Sticking out isn’t nice
Hide and never come out
Yea, moving into the sock drawer may be the emotionally correct response to all of this, although I can’t deny that a part of me, the part I mentioned before, felt deeply satisfied at belonging to this group, who could fly perfectly coordinated jet formations into the sun.
We are a nation state and our existence isn’t precarious as all that, it seems…