Nate Back

This past Tuesday, March 3rd, my dear friend, Nate Back, passed away of lymphoma cancer.

I knew things weren't going well when his daughter, Rachel, canceled her trip to Michigan for a poetry reading and Hebrew translation seminar last week. But I was stuck in San Francisco without my headset and my laptop's sound card wasn't working. Also, I had received a note from Tobi this week saying that he was weak, first time she's really said it in the letters.

I had hoped so much to be able to see him this summer and pull out some more stories and wisdom from him about my grandfather.

Nate shared my grandfather's sense of humor and belief in fairness. I appreciated his perspective as an outsider of my family who has known my family for a long time. He had wonderful love for Israel and it showed when he sat and davened in his living room or at the table on the balcony with the Old City in his direct view. Every time I looked at him, at the age of 81, it's obvious that he had seen a lot in his life by looking at his face, lined with soft wrinkles and kind eyes filled with understanding of life experience. He witnessed and participated in the Wars of 1948 and 1967. He watched this country transform over the years through early work and annual month-long stay for years up to 2000 before making official aliyah. Even though he didn't exactly speak in Hebrew fluently, he enjoyed so much of what Israel and Jerusalem had to offer as he made trips around the country, especially in the North. He wasn't shy about discussing Israeli and religious politics as he and I often got into intense discussions that Tobi sometimes would put a stop to it by moving onto the next course of the meal.

Nate taught me to try not be judgmental and truly examine from all sides, not just the victim's story. He taught me that even not all Orthodox agree with the ultra Orthodox's policies and demands, that its really more of a gray world, not simply black and white. He taught me to continue doing things because I want to, not for anyone else as he was quick to point out that I usually sought out approval in order to be liked.

I think the important lesson that he taught me as an elder, was the process of aging and dealing with it, and how quickly time can fly without realizing it. My father's parents were reaching to the last stage of their lives when I became more aware as a child in their 80s. We mostly relaxed and enjoyed each other's company when I visited them in Miami. So there wasn't much for me to adjust except for their deaths when I was 14, just as I was maturing to greater understanding of my world and history. My mother's parents, on the other hand, were in their 50s when I was born, and still in terrific health with the ability to be on the go. Now they are in their 70s and are beginning to show signs of aging that I refused to ignore, or overlooked.

It began through a dialogue relating to my grandfather's apperance as a selfish person that put me in a tight spot where I couldn't find a way around the argument and he ended it by saying, "There's no other way, right? You're young and he isn't and he's only trying his best within his own limits to show his love for you." He made me realize that I needed to remember that my grandparents, all of them, are getting on with their age and I couldn't always see them as they were 10 years ago. Time flew and it's so easy to forget that aging did bring on physical and mental difficulties that all of us need to learn how to accommodate. After all, as the oldest grandchild of the Lippman family, I had the privilege of being able to do so much like taking trips and having jam-packed days in Buffalo and New York City and having all these memories from the past 20 years.

Thus, he taught me a very important lesson about grandparents and aging. This is a long process that I am witnessing with them. And it's time for me to start holding their hand and walk with them instead of the other way around. I have to bite my lower lip as I think about how I have to start scraping together some money and time in order to see them because it's time for them to count on me to see them instead of me nervously waiting near the door. They are now in good health but it's going to be a long decade or so ahead of us. And as a historian, I can't let them go yet.

I am gtateful to have had the opportunity to meet this man and be his friend. He was a very good friend to me- I think I would have been very lost in Israel otherwise.

אני מתגעגעת אותך ניסן

Waltz with Bashir

I saw Waltz with Bashir, an Israeli film that won the best foreign film category in the Oscars. Zev told me a bit about it and described it as a "difficult" movie to sit through because of its context. The movie is based on the protagonist's attempts to remember the 1982 Lebanon War, particularly the massarces at Sabra and Shatilia. He searches out his buddies from the army to figure out what happened and where he was throughout the war. Everyone offered their most pogionant memories.

I did not expect the movie to be animated so I was certainly turned off at first with the sights of wolves running through the city. But over time, I began to appreciate the markings and lines that separated this particular animation style from the recent cartoons on Cartoon Network (I really don't watch anything anyway because I don't like the new techniques). The faces were very expressive and beautifully done, especially the eyes and mouths.

It's also quite graphic by nature with several sexual and nude scenes. So clearly given the overall context and graphics, I would not allow anyone under the age of 17 to see this.

I could understand some of the Hebrew but I'm not sure if it was just the actors' voices or the surround system in the theater that made it harder for me to understand as the language was simple enough for me to read the subtitles in Hebrew (say, instead of English).

The story was interesting but slightly disturbing. You could sense the silence. Clearly Ariel Shaon was an ass in there- he "knew" about it but didn't do anything. I think the silence bothered me more than the gun fires and people getting wounded.

I also think that it does demand the audience to have an understanding of the Israeli military culture- the fears, the need for survival, and the physical toughness. It was almost as if I was watching Jews actually doing something like living out in the desert and fighting under gunfire instead of them hiding behind their Torah. This was exactly the image that Israel wanted to have. If you don't get how they can live in the desert and improvise their cooking, certainly, you're in a very comfortable place.

I would watch this movie again and really analyze it.