Camp Babka International

Everyone has their rituals and superstitions when it comes to certain things. Mine is buying books at the airport. It drives Husband #1 crazy, because why spend money on a book when you can get it at the library for free? But for me, it is a relaxing exercise. And I like to support authors.

I look through all the titles; search for familiar authors, and decide on which cover looks the most interesting. Let’s be honest, I look for the chickiest chick-lit book and hope it’s a good one. It’s truly amazing how many different ways people can meet, fall in love, break up, and fall in love again.  Throw a murder in there, and you’ve got a bestseller.

I do this every time I go to the airport. The last time I was in Israel, I decided to support a local bookshop and I bought the books a few days before I was supposed to go to the airport. And then my flight was canceled, and I was in Israel for an extra two weeks. Coincidence? I think not.

Currently, I am in the airport waiting to board the plane. The only store I found that sold books had a very paltry selection, and I walked away empty handed. Hopefully, there will be no hidden meaning behind this, and I brought a book that I hadn’t finished over Shabbos. Have I put you to sleep yet?

On to my next dilemma. The nice lady in the lounge let me use the bathroom even though I didn’t have lounge access. I could have paid $65 for the privilege of sitting in the lounge and playing the “how many cans of ‘free’ soda can I fit in my bag?” but I heard the booming voice of Husband #1 in my head saying, “Are you nuts?” No lounge for me.

The problem is now I am thirsty. Do I buy a drink and risk having to go to the bathroom again? Do I not buy a drink and dehydrate? Ahh, the trials and tribulations of the middle-aged woman. I bought the drink.

When you fly to Israel, you usually see people you know. If someone is your friend on Facebook but not in real life, are you supposed to say hello to them or pretend you don’t see them, even if they are standing right next to you? Does this happen only to me? Can I unfriend them now if they didn’t say hello?

And let’s talk luggage. My suitcase weighed 48 pounds. My carry-on weighed 18 pounds, and they didn’t weigh my knapsack. The carry-on was too heavy, and they would check it for free. But I didn’t want to check it. The nice lady told me that I could take something out and put it in my knapsack. The not-nice lady said that if my bag was too heavy and if it fell out of the overheard bin and hit someone in the head it would break their nose. What?? Did they teach her that in luggage school? Was that supposed to scare me into checking my carry-on?

I took some stuff out and put it in my knapsack. But can’t I just put it back in my carry-on when I get on the plane? And what did I take out of my carry-on? A bag of croutons and Kind bars requested by Son #2. This is important stuff. I wasn’t going to risk checking that. Hopefully it won’t break anyone’s nose.

And then there is my favorite part of the flight — when you land. Why does everybody stand up, thinking that they are going to saunter right off the plane? And if you are in an aisle seat, the people sitting next to you think that they are the most important and give you the evil eye if you are trying to be practical by not standing up yet.

The religious man who had to switch seats with his wife in order not to accidentally bump elbows with me has no trouble leaning into me when he goes to get his carry-ons from the overheard bin. I almost wanted to wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug.

But that is just me….

No disrespect intended.

Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is so happy and grateful. Thank you, Hashem!