May 1999

Hi again,
I reckon it’s more PC (politically correct) to write a newsletter today, because tomorrow, after the results of the elections in Israel are known, I fear that my sense of humour may be somewhat dulled. Of course, those who believe that Jerusalem, the Western Wall and the Temple Mount belong to our “neighbours” will be celebrating. But let’s not get into all that...
Tradition, Tradition
Judy and I are working on establishing “family traditions”. We have found that traditions are the best way of forcing you to do things that you know you ought to do, and would like to do, but would never get round to doing, if you didn’t have to. I refer to things such as keeping in touch with Family & Friends. (E-mail has gone a long way to satisfy this need for me). “Tradition. Tradition. Were it not for Tradition, our lives would be as shaky as ... as... as...” -- but I’m plagiarising. Traditions are good. As Jews, how could we ever oppose Tradition?
Yom Ha’Atsmaut
The first tradition that initiated the stream of traditions -- you could call it the Tradition of Traditions -- is an extended Isaacs family barbecue on Yom Ha’Atsmaut (a.k.a. Independence Day). The first barbecue, held four years ago, was so successful that we just carried on “doing it” once a year, every year. (The same could be said of some other things, but I won’t go into details.)
The criteria for being invited to the Isaacs family Independence barbecue are simple. Your surname, your spouse’s or your parents’ surname must be, or must have been at some stage - Isaacs. The guest list thus extends to my brothers, their wives and children, my aunt Angela and her husband Eliot Levine, Angela’s children, her children’s’ spouses and her grandchildren. The advantage of this tradition is that we all know that once a year we get to see members of family, who otherwise we would only see at “hatches, matches and - ‘G-d forbid' - dispatches”.
This year we also had the pleasure of the company of some relations of Angela, as well as Uncle Isidore (Naftalin) from Haifa, and Auntie Beattie (Gilman) and Avril (Wober) of Glasgow, who were staying with my Mother. At 92 years old, Uncle Isidore was the oldest thing some of the children had ever seen, other than a few fossils. All in all, we made a jolly “Party of Thirty Five”!
The highlight of the barbecue is always the annual Isaacs football match. Making equal teams is always tricky, since some smart Alec (no pun intended) never fails to suggest “Isaacs against the rest”. The children look forward to this game for months in advance; the Daddies tend their wounds for months after (more of this later).
Next year, please G-d, Aubrey’s eldest, Naomi, will be celebrating her batmitzva at just this time next year. So we’ll couple Independence Day with Adulthood Day. Naomi’s batmitzva may be the first one in history to be crowned by a football match.
Lag Ba’Omer
A second tradition in our family is a Lag Ba’Omer bonfire. Here the invitation list extends to all parents who are irresponsible enough to let their tiny tots play dangerous games with brands of fire. This “modern” approach to bonfire supervision makes our particular Lag Ba’Omer bonfire tremendously popular with kids, though not quite so popular with parents.
The children are responsible for gathering the wood for the bonfire, and they bring masses of it. This year we didn’t even have time to burn all that they gathered. I don’t know where they find it all. I can only suspect that they make wood from stone. That’s a reversal of Alchemy, or the “sadiM Touch”. Can you grow poor from that?
A Lag Ba’Omer sub-tradition is the ritual argument over till what time we carry on the bonfire. The children open their bargaining, like Peter Pan, at “till morning”. The parents open at 8pm. This year we compromised on about midnight (an unexpected victory for the parents). I am confident that the children will do better next year.
Go-Go Yo-Yo
You may have picked up, over the years, on my underlying respect for my children’s capabilities. Well, I absolutely take my hat off to them in the field of yo-yos. Two things I never could do - ironing and yo-yoing. (Actually, there are more than two things that I could never do, but I’m still working on that list with my psychoanalyst, and it’s definitely not for publication). The yo-yo tricks they can perform are marvellous - spins, twists, bells, “Round the World”, “Eiffel Tower”, “walking the dog” and others.
Poor Naftali (6) isn’t tall enough to let the yo-yo fully unwind, without it smashing into the floor. Until we discovered that you can get shorter strings for young yo-yo-ists, whenever Naftali wanted to unwind with a yo-yo, he had to climb on a kitchen chair!
The Elkana Sharks
Elkana Sharks don’t exist. I’m sure that’s no surprise to you. But Sha’arei Tikva Sharks do. Sha’arei Tikva is the “village next door”, and the Sharks are the local baseball team. Ari (11) is the Sharks’ Pitcher, and Elon (8) is Catcher. (For the English among you I will translate the terminology to the cricket equivalents: the “Pitcher” is the bowler, and the “Catcher” is the wicket-keeper. So why didn’t I say “bowler” and “wicket-keeper” to start off with? Because “Pitcher” is not a bowler and “Catcher” is not a “wicket-keeper”).
Not having grown up with baseball, I can’t pretend to be particularly enthusiastic about it (Michael Jordan’s father had the same problem with basketball), but, when your two boys are the key players, and the team’s record is 7 wins, no losses, there must be something good about the game. Ari actually tried out for the national Under 12 squad this week, which is an achievement in itself. If we believe his report of the trials, we shouldn’t pin our hopes on a six digit contract.
Boys will be Boys
Three weeks ago, the Elkana Daddies instituted a new tradition - a Friday afternoon football game. As you can guess, as a former all-star of the Calderwood Lodge under 11’s, I ran to take part. Week 1 resulted in two or three days backache - but I earned my respect as a fearless, if incompetent, goalkeeper. Only one player retired hurt - a Court Register - with a shiner. I’ll bet you that took some explaining next day at work. Week 2, the accident-prone judge pulled a leg muscle with his first kick. Week 3, last Friday, was my great day. After some very mediocre goal-keeping, and at 0-2 (in a game up to 3), I came out of goal to score 3 successive goals and clutch a dramatic victory from the eye of defeat. I was in unstoppable form - or so I thought - until I tackled a particular hard kicking 15 year old, who sent me flying into the air. I twisted up and around - quite elegantly, I might add - and landed, not quite so elegantly, on my left knee.
After a restful Shabbat with my knee on ice, Judy took me to hospital, where 110 CCs of blood were extracted from my knee, and I was ordered to keep my leg up for a week. Life is good to me. Wife, sons - and when I prevail - daughter too, wait on me hand, foot and knee. Service is great, and I hope my knee is mending.
You should know, that my tackle stopped a certain goal, and, after I retired injured, my team went on to win. Which really, makes it all worthwhile, when you think about it. Two weeks from now, if I can escape Judy’s attention, I’ll be back on the pitch.
That’s it for now. Wishing you all a happy Shavuot.
All our love from Michael, Judy, Ari, Elon, Naftali and Orli (4) Isaacs.