Six days from now I will board a plane and spend 10 or more very uncomfortable hours dulled by tranquilizers and crammed into a tiny seat and hopefully arrive in another country, where I will spend the following two weeks. Despite all the discomfort, it's called a "vacation," although my life at home in Maine is quite pleasant, especially now that spring has come and flowers are blooming everywhere, making me reluctant to vacate. But, being part of a family means sometimes ceding personal desires, so off I go.
That country is Israel, and until recently I have been afraid to go there. After all, it's a war zone, right? But in light of a spate of dire events here in America, I'm starting to think perhaps I will be safer there than right here in the USA.
The most recent mass shooting occurred yesterday afternoon at a shopping mall in Texas, resulting in the death of eight innocent people (plus the perp) and the injury of seven more, three of whom are in critical condition. This makes my planned trip to a shopping mall later today an even scarier proposition than traveling to Israel, where security is very tight in all public spaces. I think I'll wait and buy my underwear there.
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