Whatever Happened To Baby Jane Is Not Entertainment

A selfie at Tel Aviv Airport before we left. 

We have been suffering from Jet Lag since arriving home last week. This is totally unnecessary when only travelling through two  time zones but as usual, I messed up.

I get drawn into a personal challenge when booking EasyJet flights. I have to try to get the price down to the cheapest I can within our possible dates for travelling. We only take hand luggage. That may change next time as I'm fed up of having to leave stuff at my Mum's to bring home next time and that scary moment of will it? - won't it? fit into the checking frame. We don't choose our seats, or do speedy boarding, or pay to carry an extra purse onto the plane. And I cannot resist those early morning and late night flights that are tuppence hapenny cheaper.

It's a false economy because we arrive in Luton around midnight and have to leave Stanmore for the return journey at 4 am - both journeys requiring a minicab which swallows the full savings we made on the flights. And still I find myself doing it.

There are advantages to these anti-social flight times. For example, Deeds (that's DD, I nicknamed DD after almost seven years) sleeps on the plane, you get an almost full working day before you leave, and you arrive home in the afternoon with time to get yourself organised to go back to work the next day. The only horrible bit is getting up at 3 am to leave for the airport.

This time I decided to stay up and not have that awful having to drag myself out of bed. Whatever Happened To Baby Jane was on television at 10.30 and not finishing until 12.45. I remember seeing it about 40 years ago but couldn't remember any of the details - except that one sister was in a wheelchair and the other one hates her. Mum and I watched it while playing kalooki and trying to second guess what happened next. Mum only remembered the budgie, I thought I remembered the wheelchair being thrown down the stairs or someone falling down them, but I was wrong.

Through the mirrored ceiling at Luton Airport.
I have a red bag at my feet and I'm looking up.
(Or don't bother trying to find me and just read on.)

OMG. What a depressing film. It's hard enough having to leave all the festivities of Christmas and travel back to Nochristmasland on Christmas Eve. And staying up all night has not had any magic attached to it since I was 21. By the time the film ended I was thoroughly miserable. (I admit that there was a good little twist in the tale/tail.) We had to have another match of kalooki while watching Escape to the Country in order to cheer ourselves up.

We slept on the plane. Landed in Tel Aviv at 14.30. Arrived home in Jerusalem at 17.00. (We took a shared mini-bus taxi and had to go round the whole city while eight other passengers were dropped off before us. It costs 25GBP whereas a private taxi costs 70GBP, which is why we do it.) And then we were home and not at all tired. So we went to bed late and couldn't get up in the morning.

This has continued all week because Deeds keeps falling asleep on the sofa around 5 pm and waking up at 7.30. I have been catching up on work that I didn't do while away so I've also been going to bed extremely late. In a spectacular finale, we both fell asleep at 3.30pm this afternoon and woke up at 8. We're screwed. Tomorrow night we're getting into bed at 8 whether we're tired or not, and no napping during the day!

The Arrogance Of Thanking God

I'm running out of relevant photos. Here is possibly where God lives. 

I have many friends who, whenever things work out for them whether it be a stroke of good luck or good timing, thank God for putting everything in place for a happy outcome. I started to do this myself recently. The older I get the more I'm convinced of a higher power. Whatever the nature of this higher power is up for debate. I do believe though, that if you work for the good and if you are in tune with the universe and humanity within it, then it will will work for you and you will get your reward.

We want to make two trips to London in the coming year to visit family and celebrate various events (the exodus from Egypt being one of them ;~p). My mother had been urging me to book the flights for the first visit at least so that she could plan around it. I was holding off until October when I get paid for my summer courses and get a full salary for being back at school in September.

Ten days ago I got an email from Easyjet saying that bookings were now open through to next summer. I decided to take a look. If I booked for our second trip as well I might get really low prices for being so early. 

Prices for next year were very reasonable. Prices for the end of this year, less than three months away, not so much. So I went to check out Monarch. I found something cheaper but not enormously cheaper. I found the Monarch website confusing as I'm familiar with Easyjet, and I couldn't work out how to change the quoted prices from dollars to pounds. 

I suddenly realized that my credit card only gets paid from my bank account on the 10th of the month (in full so it's actually more like a debit card paid once a month). So I went back to Easyjet, paid the extra, and was confident that I'd not sacrificed the known and trusted to save about $70. And while I was at it I also booked for our second trip next year. 

I was wrong about the credit card. Apparently when you pay for something in foreign currency it gets paid straight away directly from the bank account. I went into big overdraft but put the week's worth of interest on the overdraft down to experience. 

Ten days later Monarch went bust and Easyjet prices have almost doubled. I spent over 1000 pounds on eight flights and, had I booked with Monarch, would have had to spend another almost 2000 pounds had we decided to go anyway - which we might not have done due to the cost. 

My first thought was to thank God. Well something made me 1. book early and 2. decide not to book with Monarch even though they were cheaper. Thank you God. God loves me. I please God and he takes care of me. Trust in God and all will work out for the good. Etc... etc...

However. There's always a 'but' isn't there. A friend of mine, a widow who lives modestly in order to be able to visit her children and grandchildren living abroad, booked a trip with Monarch only a few days before the closure. Her credit card company say they have already paid Monarch so there is nothing they can do (different rules from the UK possibly) and she's lost her money. 

What does that mean in terms of God? He loves me but hates her? Believe me, she's a lot more particular about the religious laws than I am. 

Elliot Jager, in his book The Pater, My Father, My Judaism, My Childlessness, writes that he started to turn away from God when they couldn't have children. How could he love a mean God who would not bless he and his wife with a child when so many others, even less worthy others, are having families of 6, 7, or more children. And I remember thinking the same thing when I was single, childless, and approaching 40.

Jager's friend pointed out to him that he must have known childless couples before he found himself to be in this situation. He must have known people in the past who desperately wanted children but were unable to have. Of course he had. So why was God only a mean God when he didn't deliver for the Jagers but not when he didn't deliver for all the other worthy but sadly childless people? 

So then it's ok to thank God when you accidently leave your purse or your phone in a shop but then remember and run back to find it still sitting there on the bench in the fitting room. And it's good to thank God when you narrowly miss being knocked down by a motorcycle overtaking the car that stopped for you on the zebra crossing. And when you slip over in the street but only bruise your knee and scrape your hand but don't break your leg, thank God. 

But this doesn't make sense if you can't also thank God when you miss being affected by a tragedy that has struck others. If I were in Vegas last week and survived, should I thank God for sparing me? If He's so powerful why didn't he spare everyone? If He spared me, is it arrogant of me to believe myself to be more worthy than any of the other people there?

Of course you don't have to evoke specific events for this line of thought. It could apply to our very lives. Thank God I was born into a middle class, loving family, in the UK, at a time of peace and not into a starving village in Africa. What do you say to God about those children who were born in poor villages in Africa? 

I wish I had an answer but I don't. Every time I want to say, "Thank God," now, I feel guilty. If anyone has any insight on this I'd be very interested to hear it. The nearest philosophy I can come up with for some sort of explanation is from my friend's mother, Mrs Slifkin, who used to tell her children, "different people have different things." You can't argue with that.