guide to the jewplexed

Going Gooey for Israel


My love for Israel is skin deep. It usually runs deeper, but in the few last weeks, mostly skin deep.

Let me explain.

It was about two months ago while watching the broadcast of the Academy Awards, that my brother-in-law Joe presented me with a birthday gift-- a bag of personal hygiene items made in the land of Israel.

"It's some stuff I picked up on my visit that I thought you could use," he said, handing me a bag that looked a lot like a shaving kit.

"Thanks," I said to my brother-in-law, unsure as to what to expect. Feeling the contents through the cloth bag, I knew it definitely wasn't a razor.

It was not until I got home and zipped open the bag that I realized what I had been given. Inside, all clearly marked for "MEN" were an olive green tube of "Foam Free Shaving Cream," and a small bottle of "Smoothing After-Shave Moisturizer." Both were made by Ahava, an Israeli company that produces lines of skin care products that contain minerals that are "Sourced from the wondrous Dead Sea waters."

Who would have thought that you could shave with little pieces of the Promised Land?ahava

Promising to soften, hydrate and refresh, you may have seen these products or other Israeli skin care items made from Dead Sea minerals being hawked at a kiosk in a mall near you.

Opening the Israeli shaving cream and rubbing the white goo between my fingers, I immediately began to riff on the possibilities--would my beard now grow in fuller, Haredi-like? And when I shaved, would I now be better prepared for the territorial challenges of the Gaza of my neck, and the oppositional territories of my chin and upper lip?

But, best of all, in the bag was one more item--a tube of "Exfoliating Cleansing Gel." Through its "Exclusive blend of minerals" from the Dead Sea, this product, from the lowest place on earth, promised to remove "dirt build up," and improve my skin's "Well-being and youthfulness."

Wow, not only was it Shangri-La in a tube, by just slathering on a little, wouldn't I be helping Israel's economy?

"Apply evenly to a wet face," read the instructions. Soon, I would be exfoliating for Israel.

My four week regimen could be described thusly:

Week 1: I apply, the exfoliant and immediately begin to feel the Dead Sea particles--those little micro-peelers-- having an influence on my face. They are supposed to "revitalize and energize," is that why as I rub it into my face, it starts to feel warm, hot even? Have I been wondrously, cosmetalogically transported somehow to the hot-hot-hot Negev and the Dead Sea? No. I just have left the hot water running, and bathroom is starting to steam up.

Week 2: This time I really feel the Dead Sea granules doing their stuff. They are kind of gritty, smoothing my face as they toughen up my pores. I feel my cheek. It sort of feels prickly like a cactus. Am I becoming a Sabra? I look in the mirror. Before exfoliating, I forgot to shave.

Week 3: Now I'm really exfoliating. Besides shedding a few cells, other stuff like old attitudes--especially involving Israel--are washing away as well. Suddenly, I rummage though the bottom of my closet for a pair of Israeli sandals that used to rub me the wrong way, and I have a craving for baba ghanoush whose texture often upsets my stomach. More of a J Street guy--AIPAC starts looking better to me.

Week Four: My wife says I look fantastic. "Ahava" means "love," and she certainly is loving my new more polished Dead Sea look. Also, in the last month I have exfoliated so much negativity. In fact, I feel positively energized and kind of tingly all over.

Or is that just the baba ghanoush?

Edmon J. Rodman has written about making his own matzah for JTA, Jewish love music for the Jerusalem Post, yiddisheh legerdemain for the Los Angeles Jewish Journal, a Bernie Madoff Halloween mask for the Forward, and what really gets stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits for the Los Angeles Times. He has edited several Jewish population studies, and is one of the founders of the Movable Minyan, an over twenty-year-old chavura-size, independent congregation. He once designed a pop-up seder plate. In 2011 Rodman received a First Place Simon Rockower Award for "Excellence in Feature Writing" from the American Jewish Press Association."