I try — I really do although some people won’t believe me — to keep my political feelings out of this blog as much as possible but some weeks are so politically volatile that it’s impossible. So, if you feel that your views differ from mine to such an extent that you might feel antagonised — or even ill — reading the first part of this post, then scroll down to the photographs, which are colourful yet benign.
Other than the fact that last week started off with my 75th birthday, I was presented with a birthday present that I could have refused but just couldn’t bring myself to turn down. When I think of all the wonderful double acts that the world has produced — The Two Ronnies, Laurel & Hardy, Abbott & Costello, Morecambe & Wise, Fred & Ginger, Bilko & Doberman, Marks & Spencer, Peaches & Cream—and which have provided so much pleasure to millions over the years, we were treated last week in the evening to half an hour with a new comedy duo on the block who specialise in black humour—Impeached & Indicted.
In case you’re confused, Impeached is on the left-hand side of the picture and Indicted is on the right-hand side.
It was quite a performance. Impeached made a speech using his rather limited vocabulary and Indicted listened intently; Indicted stood there and even though he knew the tune he was about to hear, he couldn’t hide his joy. Everything he ever wanted he had been handed by a golden pate (Sorry: that should read on a golden plate). Both Impeached and Indicted had brought their own cheerleaders to watch their stand-up extravaganza and cheer is what they did. They whooped and they hooted and they hollered; they shrieked hosannas and alleluias. A most wonderful show if ever there was one!
Indicted’s perpetually smug smirk was more sweeping than ever. However, there were two things that were missing. One was half a metre of drool hanging out of the sides of his mouth. Not that drooling is as irritating to onlookers or as embarrassing to the droolers themselves as it was once thought to be. In some quarters today, it’s even considered fashionable. After all, the Scottish actor and comedian, Billy Connolly, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease has said “There’s a little surprise every month and this month’s surprise is drooling. I find it makes you so attractive to people. Women particularly. They say ‘I love a man with a shiny chin!’” The second missing object was a ruler to measure the length of Indicted’s tongue because I reckoned he’d need a long one for all the arse-licking that was to follow Impeached’s welcome words. Am I being cynical? I don’t really think so because I really don’t know how to be a cynic; it’s honestly not part of my nature. Yes, I admit that I’m a little sceptical about things from time to time but that’s the extent of it.
Anyway, to return to Impeached & Indicted. What was the content of their spectacular little pageant? A Bantustan in the Land of Israel, it seems. Even the South Africans all those years ago didn’t have the chutzpah to pretend that the partially self-governing areas they set aside for specific indigenous African peoples, the so-called Bantu homelands, were independent states. In Washington D.C. last week, Impeached & Indicted begged to differ. If the Palestinians would only behave themselves and be prepared to accept the money that Impeached & Co. was offering them, they might one day have their own state.
But why would the Palestinians be satisfied with what Impeached & Co. were offering them? Maybe they should consult with the Kurds who’ve been waiting over a century, at times patiently and at other times less so, for one of theirs as well. If they ask the Kurds, maybe they can show them the way. Who knows?
And then later in the week we were treated to another spectacle when the U.S. Senate decided to put an early end to Impeached’s trial by deciding not to call witnesses. A trial without any witnesses. Sounds like a dreadfully determined decision from some dystopic piece of fiction.
And then to cap the week, we witnessed Brexit, that act of English hara-kiri that the people voted for 3½ years before. The scene of tens of thousands of people waving Union flags and singing Rule Britannia or whatever, with Nigellus Porridge gloating over his success in saving the British people from their own folly and Boris preaching about a new dawn was more than my little mind could take as I enter my 76th year.
07.30 in the Yarqon Park always provides me with enough photographic material over the week. I really don’t have stray much further than that.
This bench looked good in the sunlight.
I saw it, I raised the camera, I focussed — and it was gone. It had apparently seen a fish!
And then, not really looking at birds at all, I thought I saw one across the road on Hayarqon Street with the kids and the bikes and the carts.
So I crossed the street to have a closer look — and yes, cockatoo!
While out walking and looking around, a pedestrian with a camera not only needs to keep his feet on the ground but keep his eyes glued to the ground as well.
Another double act?
Occasionally, I venture out later than early morning and don’t always have the camera with me so have to rely on the phone.
I was fascinated by this sign in the window on Ben-Yehuda Street in Tel Aviv. I wondered if it’s for people with small hands and feet? Or is it something else entirely?
And finally, double acts again. This one reminded me of Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson from over 60 years ago. (Those of you who know, just know; those of you who don’t, don’t bother to think about Pearl & Teddy and you can end with the video clip below instead.)