Some Enchanted Evening…
Whenever Michael was getting ready to go someplace horrible I got into a bad habit–although who could blame me?–of finding a song or a quotation that fit the occasion. I was kind of annoying. When Michael was going to the South Pacific I kept singing Some Enchanted Evening…in a very “Rossano Brazzi” voice. Not always appreciated except that Michael’s never rude to me and I tried to hold back. (Regarding Michael’s trip to Antarctica: there is an old Fred Astaire movie called Flying Down To Rio. I didn’t know any song attached to that but I just kept saying those words over and over. Probably Michael was relieved to be going!!) Nope. Michael may have been slightly annoyed but the truth is that he loves and respects me.
Anyway, there are an incredible amount of small islands in the South Pacific, united into one country except that all these people speak different languages. It’s crazy. They do have a capital city but I can’t remember the name. They were due to elect a new leader and the atmosphere there was unstable and ripe for rioting and chaos. So the U.N. sent three Peacekeepers to help keep things calm.
One day Michael and the two others went out in a boat and got lost. This still scares me a little when I think of it. They came to a remote island and a tribe of brown skinned people greeted them in a curious fashion. Yes–they were the true Hollywood-style island people. They had all kinds of things in their ears and bones through their noses. They didn’t look friendly. So Michael–Master of Quick Thinking–took out his cell phone and took a picture of the chief. Then Michael showed the man his picture. He looked at himself for the very first time and roared with laughter. Oh thank God!!! Then all the other men wanted their pictures taken… They all loved Michael and his two friends and wanted them to accompany the tribe back to their home. The way Michael told this, he said that these people thought of them as gods. Oh well. Just another day in the life…
Also, with Mother’s Day coming up…Michael went to Israel on that “birthright” plan they have and he spent three weeks working with the Israeli army. He was there when Mother’s Day occurred. So he called my mother from Israel. I told Michael: You got triple Jewish coupon day! You called your grandmother from Israel on Mother’s Day.
I would like to add the following. I write about my beloved son with humor and irony but that was the way I survived it, in part. It’s soul-shaking to have a son with such overwhelmingly altruistic tendencies. I can’t help remembering an e-mail I got from a man I had never met. His name was Dr. Michael Aronson; he had worked alongside Michael in Haiti. He said that he wanted me to know that not only was my son brilliant, but that he has a heart of gold. This is when I cry.
lgmwriting 