...so I'm in the middle of my driving lesson (don't ask) and Joe Cocker comes on the radio. One thing leads to another, and soon we start swapping stories about our favourite rockers from the sixties and seventies.
'Jimi Hendrix...now he was one.' Motti muses.
I narrowly avoid a little old lady crossing the road. 'Yeah...pity they all die young.'
'I remember when he died.' For a moment, I swear that Motti is wiping a tear from his eye. That said, it may be my driving that is driving him to distraction. '1969, it was.'
I shake my head. 'Hendrix died in 1970, man.'
'I know what I am talking about,' Motti retorts indignantly. 'I was in the Army, in the middle of the war then.'
The traffic lights ahead turn red, and I ease to a halt. I pause and think for a for a minute. Perhaps he is right. I mean, it's not like I was born in 1969 or anything. Then a thought occurs to me.
'But you're always fighting wars in Israel. That's not really a good gauge to use, is it?'
The lights turn green. One nanosecond later, the guy behind us starts horning like it's 1999. Motti shrugs. 'You have a point there.'
On the radio, the commentator is wondering whether Israel will get into trouble with Iran, Syria or Hamastan next.
¿Cómo se desarrolla la boca del bebé?
4 weeks ago