I am not an Orthodox Jew

by Ricky Mulvey

I just got back from the border of Gaza. It’s the second time I have been there in two weeks. I’m a little tired a little stressed and I’ve only been watching it from the sidelines, the cheap seats.

The second time I went to the border, for a sliver of a moment I though Ugh I’m going to this border again. Twice in two weeks. You know, the exact same attitude that someone has when they have to go eat at a Chili’s twice in one week.

I could never imagine going in.

 Rockets straight from Gaza in Sderot

A few times since I have been over here I have been asked “Have you thought about joining the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces)?” With the kind of tone that suggests You’re an able-bodied Jew living in America. Why not come over here and fight with us?

The pressure is not overt, but it’s hard to explain to these guys that just got out of the army that I very plainly don’t want to. I don’t want to leave my university. I don’t want to pick up all of my stuff and come to Israel for three years. I don’t want to get fluent in Hebrew so I can go in the West Bank and get shot at, get rocks thrown at me, and risk my life for a country that I’m pretty certain I do not want to spend the rest of my life in. Hell, I don’t even want to sit in an office for three years for the army. I’ve been close to Gaza. I do not need to hang out there longer at the moment; thank you very much.

And yet every time I am asked this and I say “not really” I feel like I am commiting a small act of betrayal.

A few days ago I was in the West Bank shooting again– come to think of it I haven’t really been hitting Israel like I should. I’ve been to the Jewish settlements in the West Bank twice and still haven’t been in the Dead Sea. Overlooking the West Bank

Anyway, we had a shoot at a settlement and ended up shooting at the Yeshiva (the school where some Jews go to study Torah and its teachings for a lifetime). Holy hell did I feel out of place. All these orthodox Jews studying and discussing Torah (and Midrash), rocking and singing, discussing. It was strange to see and even tougher to sip on a water and act casual. These people are described (broadly) as having the same religion as me and I felt incredibly distant from them

I kept waiting for one of them to ask me “Hey bud, who do you know here?” At which point I would shrug my shoulders and slowly Cha-Cha Slide my way out.

But they could not have been more welcoming. Sure they had an interest in really getting me into this Torah study thing, but the place ended up having a feeling like a Torah study program brought to you by the Grateful Dead.

It was still intimidating explaining to these Yeshiva guys that we were filming their settlement and what my role was when I wasn’t entirely sure what the story was, and what exactly my role as a “news producer” was there, and I have to perform these verbal gymnastics with a 6 foot 5 Orthodox Jew with sideburns (or Payot) dangling over my head.

Anyway, they didn’t kill me and the it ended with a surprise trip to the Mikvah– a natural water spring/bathing ritual place, where one of the guys decided it was time to skinny dip in front of your old pal Rick and the crew. We just kind of dipped our toes in so we could participate as well.

Little did I know that the proper way was to go in there completely naked.

I thought I was a little uncomfortable before: now I have this naked man I met only an hour ago telling me to jump in this pool with him.

Yeah, I sat that one out.

Life is weird. Israel is weird. I am glad I am here.

 

 

I was next to Gaza and in the West Bank and all I got was this blog

by Ricky Mulvey

I’ve traveled a lot lately. I’ve been to Jerusalem, the West Bank, the border of Gaza, and Haifa.

This won’t be my funniest post, but  I promise the next ones will have more humor.

The border of Gaza was one of the most meaningful places I’ve ever been too.  I was in the town of Sderot filming for my job, and we ended up driving along the fence.

I got out of the car when we reached this fence. A row of houses were behind us and few things have been eerier for me than being in a quiet neighborhood right next to Gaza. You can hear the buzzing from the electric fence when you’re that close, and past the farmland you can barely make out a city.  I won’t call this moment transformative,  but it was pretty close. For God’s sake, if I was literally standing ten feet from where I was my life would be entirely different. I cannot even imagine the person I would be — certainly not Jewish, certainly not able to travel around the world. This was not about the conflict for me (although I’m sure some troll can make it out to be in the comments), but luck. I am an American Jew staring at Gaza as a tourist. I’m using their electric fence for a post on Instagram.

I may be close, but I am not in touch.

A few days after this I was at a mandatory  fun and hilarious improv show. There was a lot of audience participation in the show and very few jokes actually told, but trust me when I describe it as mandatory  fun and hilarious. They shouted out for a scene location. Everyone shouted for things like Ben Yehuda Street, the beach, or Tel Aviv.  I shouted the Gaza Strip. I thought it would be the funniest thing in the world to watch these happy-go-lucky improv players put together a scene in Gaza after doing a scene that was mandatory to watch fun and hilarious about how many questions they could ask while riding a camel.  Naturally they ignored me, but a few minutes later I realized how dark humor is such a wonderful coping mechanism… even if the girls in the row in front of me disagreed.

But moving on now.  A few days ago I made it to the West Bank to interview a woman named Daniella Weiss. Weiss is an important figure in Israeli history (look her up for more info), her views are controversial, and it was an honor to interview her.

 My view from atop a Jewish settlement aka those things that those BDS kids yell about these days.

I have wanted to go to the West Bank for a long time (or Judea and Samaria, whatever floats your boat) and it was great to get there. To see the little trailers and neighborhoods that have caused so much uproar. They are trailer parks that make world leaders shout.

It made me want to grab some world leaders by the collar and say “look around. Shut up, there is plenty of space here so get it together and f***ing share. Everyone can be here if you stop acting like whiny buttholes.”

Granted some neighborhoods we went to were nicer like the one I visited, but it is nuts to be next to the shacks that cause such an uproar. You won’t find President Obama condemning many other trailer parks besides these ones.

Earlier in the week I was in Haifa and while I have nothing but love for Haifa, I have nothing but distrust for Haifa cab drivers.  I think some Israeli cab drivers lick their chops a  little too much when they see a group of confused looking American youth.

It’s like Donald Trump and Mexicans– I assume some of the cab drivers in Haifa are perfectly nice people but for the most part I don’t trust or like them and I think they should be sent to Mexico.  Okay, it was only one of them told my group to get out of the car and leave when we were plainly in the wrong spot, but I stand by my thoughts. This is in front of the Bahai’ Gardens in Haifa. It was cool and pretty and reminded me of Highgarden from Game of Thrones. You should go there.

All in all, I have been having a great time running around Israel. The next post will be coming real soon.

Standing Up in Tel Aviv

by Ricky Mulvey

It’s really hard to do stand-up in Tel Aviv if you are telling English jokes. Your options are pretty much to either tell your circumcision jokes to your friends or put them in a blog.

I finally found one place though. A beach bar called Mike’s Place  has an open mic every Monday. I’ve been here a month and have not performed in that time I was ready to go like a dog on a pork chop, (or a Ricky on a desperately missed pork chop in this Kosher land).

The mic was advertised as one for all talents including comedy, but there ended up being a bunch of fantastic musicians and me telling jokes.

When I arrived for sign-ups I asked the guy if anyone else did stand-up. He said no one had in months. A few people tried and never came back. I realized that I maybe should have scoped the place out a bit before going.

For instance I called the bar about the open mic and asked if I could perform in English– I did not know that the theme of Mike’s Place is America.

The host basically told me “Yeah I guess you can do jokes. Yeah, we advertise that we let people do comedy. There’s mainly Russians and Israelis here and they will want to talk during your set, but it’ll be great. The wait staff will probably pay attention to your jokes.”

Ah, the opening, welcoming arms of the Tel Aviv stand up community.

Naturally I was terrified when I went up to do stand-up in this room that makes photos tough. As you can see these nice Russian men to my right wanted nothing to do with my jokes.

But I went up  and talked about things I am extremely comfortable with, like how I went to a surprise circumcision party a while back (because that’s what Jews do) and how I realized it was a surprise for me because I did not know I was going, but also for the baby because he had NO idea what that knife meant. Then how I got a text that I needed to leave early so I told the rabbi to cut faster, but it was okay he told me. He only needed to take a little off the top.*

It’s been recommended I put more pictures in my blog, but I don’t think there is much I should include for this topic.

Overall the crowd was loud and not paying attention, but the people that listened were great for the most part. I was excited to see if there was a big difference in how my jokes hit here versus America, but it was pretty much the same  for me.

After, one woman told me she enjoyed it and that made me happy.

Then one 65-year-old Israeli leaned over to me as I sat back down. He was with a woman about 30 years his junior in a tight black dress.

“Are we done with the talking.” He said. He wasn’t really asking a question. “I come to see music not to listen to this talking.”

I did not know what to say so I went with “Uhhhh, it’s a nice bar.”

As I was about to leave he stepped out of his booth, grabbed the woman by the wrist, pulled her out of the booth, slid in behind her and sat, and directed her on his lap. She did not fight it but was not enthusiastic about it by any means. Her face remained impassive.

If my jokes don’t hit with a human piece of garbage like that, I guess I am okay with it.

*For more delightful circumcision jokes you’ll have to come see me perform in Cincinnati or Columbus. Don’t worry. I have lot’s more. Circumsicison jokes related to my junior prom? I got em. Circumcision jokes related to modern bars? I got em. You name the situation you want to see a circumcision joke and I will tell it or I guarantee your money back.