Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
bomb on the ground three feet from a building only blew a hole in the ground and left the
building unscathed. Now how would it be if the Israelis started smoking hash too and messing
up the fundamentals of endless warfare?
“You're smoking it.”
He shrugged. “I'm retired. And I won't buy any either.”
The cost of the session was one Israeli pound, about 28¢. As if that weren't enough, an
exotic beauty of the Middle East, Abraham's other cousin, served mint tea and fresh melon
slices. Stoned to the gills, we ogled, we dreamed, we sipped and ate. And smoked some more,
for the sheer, abundant richness of the thing.
Abraham asked, “Is good. Yes?” He grinned hopefully, seeking affirmation that we were
one, among the youthful wave meeting the world on fresh terms of peace and love all around
us.
“Yes. Is good.”
Strolling through the underground market I bought a burnoose and keffiyeh with a
tasseled band I wore for years on Halloween. It was a real hit four years later during the first
oil crisis, when the costume got a rope belt and some empty oilcans dangling from it. I had
to stop wearing that outfit many years later when terrorism displaced the love all around us.
Halloween could be so fickle.
We walked up a steep hill to where a guy waited with some camels. The guy was another
friend of Abraham's, maybe another cousin or uncle, and so we too were in the fold. We
dropped another pound on a camel ride, which was a goof and another stoned gas. Our friend
Abraham was kin to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and don't forget Sarah, Leah and Rachel. Ish-
mael fairly completed the arc of the Revolution in replacing historic conflict with newfound
friendship. Ah, youth. Our dromedary cloud made time immaterial down to incidental eons
drifting by as we drifted past olive trees said to be seven thousand years old, which seemed
very old but then not so old in the geological view. In fact, human time seemed momentary,
a still life like us. Fingertips brushed olive branches that were already two thousand years old
even back then, when
God said, Abraham, kill me a son.
Abe said, Man, you must be puttin' me on.
God said, Abe?
Abe said, What?
God said, You can do what you want, Abe, but . . .
next time you see me comin', you better run.
Abe said, Where you want this . . . killin' done?
God said, Out on Highway . . . 61.
