I feel as I am trapped in a “groundhog-day” without Bill Murray and Andie
MacDowell. Every day repeats its own mediocrity, rests upon its own moldy
laurels, and never stops to take a pause. “I cannot imagine being in such a
limbo” – someone once recently wrote me. Even the pope is considering
banishing limbo from the Christian theology, so where would I be? I am not
in hell – the rest of the Lebanese are – and I am not in heaven, for I have still
have to be thrown out by St. Peter – all I am is “in Bethesda” a lame consola-
tion prize for being in the wrong time, in the wrong place.
Ring, ring…
[…]
“If I didn’t sympathize with your plight, what kind of person would I be?”
“You’d be an American”
“Stop it! You’re killing me”
“Good one down…. How many to go? Sorry, I know I came out a bit idiotic
in that reply. But what do you expect with someone with an IQ on only 129!”
“A brilliant idiot?”
“An oxy moron – that’s two words. Speaking of two of words, do you know
what Pamela Anderson’s favorite two words are: Champagne. I am not sure
how to make it two words, but that’s what she said.”
“You’re hilarious…”
“Are you laughing with, or at me?”
“I am sorry about the news from back home.”
“Yes, we’re all deeply worried and it doesn’t seem to get any better. If there’s
something I can do, don’t hesitate to ask!”
“Can you mend the runways of the Beirut International Airport? Oh, I just
heard of the trumpet player Mazen Kerbaj – he did an improvisation on his
instrument with, in the background, the noise of bombs falling.”
“It must have been hard for you growing up during the war.”
“Are you even listening to what I am saying? If you were you’d have under-
stood my fascination with Mazen. We’re all of the same generation, war was
just the background we grew up to. But inside of it was life and childhood
and laughs. Let me ask you this, what color do you associate war with?”
“Black… No, wait. Red. The color of blood. There you go, was is red.”
“See, you never grew up in a war and so you don’t know that war is orange.
War is synthesized orange to be more precise. Orange crush if I were to be
specific. Not Mirinda orange, are you paying attention?”

“Yes, but…”
“You see, you’re missing the point. Every Lebanese must have escaped death
six or seven times during the war. But it was part of the adrenaline rush, the
craziness. Have you ever fell in love during a war?”
“No, not that I know of.”
“I have. You take it the to the end of it, because unconsciously, you’re never
sure if this whole thing will last or not, so you invest in it with all your heart.
Did I ever tell you about the sniper? I haven’t I think. Well, I was nine, at our
apartment was on the seventh floor with some great sea views. Problem is
that it also was exposed to a building with snipers in it. One day I went up to
our neighbors in the eighth floor, they were displaced people back then. And
I sat and sat, for like maybe two hours. And then when I was stood up and
went into the hallway, a bullet came crushing right where I was sitting. That
damn sniper had a heart! He waited for me to get up to tell me I was sitting in
a place where I could get shot. See, snipers wearing hearts on their sleeves.
Where do you find that without a war. In real life the guy was probably a
car mechanic. Merciless and ripping his customers, fixing one thing only to
damage another so they’d be back. He had to become a sniper to reveal his
values. Are you following me?”
“This is nuts!”
“So, again, what color is the war?”
“Orange. I swear I was listening.”
“No, this time it’s striped navy blue and white.”
“You lost me on that one.”
“I lost myself. But don’t worry, someone will find us eventually. All we have
to do is just stand still where we are. I am glad I brought my nail trimmer
with me. Trimming nails brings a lot of comfort in times of trouble you
know.”
“Can you hold on a second. I have another line I have to take?”
“Sure.” And I hang up.