Mr. Jason teaches English at my school. He gets food on his face when he eats, his eyes look crossed cuz he has thick glasses, and he walks funny cuz I think one of his legs is shorter than the other. I love Mr. Jason. He doesn’t care that most of his students don’t like him, he makes fun of himself, and he freely admits to having no idea how to parent his child. And best of all, he’s British. He speaks Hebrew with a thick British accent, calls me “mate,” and pronounces “terrible” exactly how you think he pronounces it.
Last fall, Mr. Jason showed up to work bleeding profusely. He took a turn too fast on his electric bike, the bike slid out from under him, and he went flying. So there he is in the staff room, smiling, putting toilet paper on his wounds, and asking if he should stick around to teach his classes. And all I can think of is the 80s classic European Vacation: “Oh, it’s just a flesh wound!”
Mr. Jason has since been in two more bike accidents. Recently, he tried to pass the car in front of him, but the car turned and threw him and his bike to the ground. He told another teacher and me about the accident, and we were like, “Dude, if you were riding behind the car, it’s kinda your fault.”
Why am I telling you so much about Mr. Jason? Cuz justice, that’s why. Cuz when you ride a bike fast on a street with big, dangerous cars, you better be careful. I’m not saying I wanted Mr. Jason to get run over; I’m just saying that shit happens for a reason and justice was served.
Justice was recently served to my favorite police officer, Derek Chauvin. After the verdict, when I thought about how fucked up he’s gonna get in jail, I felt a brief moment of sympathy. But then I snapped back and thought, “Nah, this dude deserves everything he’s gonna get in jail. Everything.” I’m not saying I want him to get beaten and humiliated and raped; I’m just saying that shit happens for a reason and justice will be served.
I’ve been thinking about justice a lot recently. Was it just for Hamas to fire 4,000 rockets at Israel? Was it just for Israel to respond the way it did? If I eat a giant bowl of Frosted Flakes, must I suffer the way I do?
In a last-ditch attempt to stay on as prime minister, Bibi Netanyahu, aka “King of Israel,” tried to stop a coalition from forming by escalating Israeli-Palestinian tensions. The war started, people died, the war ended, and the coalition formed anyway. Netanyahu is no longer prime minister, and he is facing charges of bribery and fraud. Justice may be imminent for this genius dictatorial piece of shit.
Many thousands of Israelis have applied for and gotten citizenship in various European countries if they can offer any type of proof that their ancestors were expelled from a particular country. Dr. King said, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” For Jews whose ancestors were kicked out of Spain 500-ish years ago, I suppose it’s better late than never.
Israelis don’t pull over for ambulances. Like, at all. So I’m assuming people die here cuz it takes too long for ambulances to get to them. One day, some Israeli bastard who didn’t pull over for an ambulance will call for an ambulance but people won’t pull over for that ambulance and then that Israeli bastard will die and justice will have been served.
In America, teachers, coaches, camp counselors, etc. are not really allowed to put their hands on kids. In Israel, however, when a kid in a pool is misbehaving and the lifeguard tells him to get out but the kid won’t get out, the lifeguard gets into the pool, grabs the kid by his arm, and yanks his ass out of the water. Israeli pool justice is swift and severe.
Humans eating bats or whatever the hell happened in China is responsible for COVID, so this pandemic is a form of justice. Israelis are also too close to nature. Screeching birds wake up Broosevelt at 5am. Ants are all over our bathroom. Poisonous snakes line the path to the beach. Howling jackals run through our neighborhood at midnight. Yes, this is all true, and here comes the best one: Panini and I got off the highway in southern Tel Aviv on the way to her soccer game and all of a sudden there was a big, brown horse running wild down the busy street. I’m not sure what that horse did wrong in its previous life, but it was running right into oncoming traffic, so I’m pretty sure justice was served.
We went to the northern tip of Israel a few weeks ago and spent time in a Druze village. (FYI: Druze speak Arabic and their faith originates from a sect of Islam, but they don't identify as Muslim.) We ate an enormous dinner of majadara (lentils and rice), dolma (grape leaves), tzatziki (yogurt with cucumber), labne (thick Greek yogurt), taboule (bulgar with parsley and vegetables), roasted chicken with potatoes and cauliflower, zucchini stuffed with rice and meat, olives, and, of course, salat (diced tomatoes and cucumbers with olive oil and lemon). For dessert, we ate home-made doughnuts and knafe (shredded filo soaked in sweet syrup). The next morning for breakfast, we ate three different types of Druze pita filled with labne, potato, and/or spinach, accompanied by olives, honey, apples from their orchard, and three different types of jam. We decided to buy some of these local delicacies. The Boss’ mom, a cute, little lady who is one of my favorite mothers-in-law, was told it cost 300 shekel but only paid 200, perhaps because she had a senior moment or perhaps because certain members of certain faiths are always looking for a deal. Justice was finally served when she was publicly shamed for not paying the kind Druze gentleman the correct price.
The Boss was recently on CNN International because she published some half-decent study about the impact of remote learning on the mental health of kids which luckily got picked up by TIME magazine and then CNN. Anyone who knows anything about science knows that the Boss benefited from good timing, not from great science. Justice was served when the Boss got bitten by a bug while she was sleeping and then woke up on the morning of the interview with a super swollen eyelid which was definitely not noticeable on camera...
Panini is my hero and best friend, but the crying and yelling and spazzing and crying has gotten out of hand. Justice was finally served when she came home sweaty and gross from an intense soccer game but there was no hot water and she cried through her entire cold shower while the Boss and I sat on the couch and one of us laughed hysterically.
OG refuses to leave her ripped plastic bag of Pop-Its fidget toys at home, so she takes them to school where her friends play with and break them. Leave your shit at home, and there won’t be any tears. Bring your shit to school, and experience the wrath of 4th grade street justice.
Broosevelt couldn’t keep his fingers out of his mouth for a couple of weeks, but justice was served when he had to stay home for two days due to a high fever and dry-heaving in the toilet (see below).
Boni got the same fever a couple of days later and has been home for three days. I’m not sure what she did to deserve it, but she does kick Broosevelt in the beitzim (balls) sometimes.
After years of hard work, sacrifice, and total dedication to my work and family, I am finally getting the justice I deserve. School is basically finished, so I often spend the late evenings playing tennis or basketball, or walking barefoot around the neighborhood, enjoying the warm breeze, smelling the flowers, thinking my thoughts, and giggling out loud to myself. This justice may be temporary but, like Panini’s cold shower, it tastes so sweet.
News flash: My brother-in-law and his husband are new fathers, but they gave their kid a French first name, a Hebrew second name, an initials-only third name, and a hyphenated last name. It might be tough growing up with two dads in backwards-ass America, but now this kid is in serious trouble with all those goddamn names. I’m not saying I want the kid to get bullied and come home in tears; I’m just saying shit happens for a reason and justice will be served.
