Six Days of War

I was four in 1967. I grew up with a strong Israel. As I began paying attention to politics, I saw Begin and Sadat making peace. My adulthood was peppered with Intifada, Oslo, and the second Intifada. I saw Israel destroy an Iraqi nuclear facility with a pre-emptive strike, then take the Scud missiles launched by Iraq and not retailiate. I've always seen Israel as a strong nation -- one that was well on the way to pacifying its neighbors and eventually living in peace.

It wasn't always that way. Michael Oren's Six Days of War tells of the tremendous military buildup by Israel's foes, their posturing, their aggressive badgering and Israel's patient, patient response. Their attempts at diplomatic solutions, then eventually, their realization that they had to go it alone, and going it alone meant doing things their way. So they did, and so they succeeded beyond anyone's wildest imaginations.

From what I've seen, nothing has changed fundamentally in the Arab world in the 35 years since 1967. The regimes are habitual liars, repressive, addicted to demagoguery and hellbent on the destruction of "the Zionist entity".

After the first 30 pages, this book turns into a thriller. The story is so remarkable that it needs no embellishment. His narrative of the events leading up to the outbreak of overt hostilities filled me with gut-wrenching tension. Once the dam breaks and the fighting starts in earnest, you'll turn page after page after page. I promised I'd get to bed by 11:30, no midnight, no 12:30, OK, now it's 1:00, no more!

I can't recommend this book highly enough for anyone who wants to put the situation in today's Middle East in historical perspective.

Looks like they're ready to go it alone again:

Israel has notified the U.S. it would respond to any Iraqi attack, even if there are no casualties, Ha'aretz has learned. Senior Israeli officials have explained to their American counterparts it is important to Israel to maintain its deterrence, and that it would not practice the same kind of restraint it demonstrated in the Gulf War in 1991.

God bless 'em!  

In Bethany Beach

Now the fan-damily and I have motored our way east to Bethany Beach, Delaware to take in the waters. The surf pounds day and night. It's hot enough to slow you down, but the proximity of the ocean keeps it moderate.

Also moderate is the water. We spent a couple of days last month at Gearhart on the Oregon coast. The weather was glorious, the beach wide and clear, and the water bone-chillingly frigid. I donned my bathing suit and rash guard and attempted to play in the surf. I even body-surfed a couple of waves. A couple meaning two. Not three. Two. Immersing my torso was so striking that I couldn't help but remember it vividly.

Now contrast the Atlantic. The beaches are not as wide, and quite a bit steeper. This means that the waves break in predictable places. And then there's the water. My oh my. It's warm. I spend at least 90 minutes a day bounding over waves, floating out beyond the curls, and riding some of them in. No, I don't know how many.

If you want to see what things look like, check out the Bethany Cam.

This is the seventh straight year we've spent some of our August here. This time, we're spending most of our August. If we had broadband Internet access, I'd have nothing to complain about.