Vegard

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I think the entire purpose in life for my Norwegian roommate, Vegard, was to prove me wrong. He's heard just about every one of my theories, seen what's happened to me, and is under the impression that not only am I wrong, but that it is his job to convince me of this.

He generally questions m to see how serious I am. "You'd never hit a girl?"

"Unless they had fully reached the point where I don't trust them, I would not do anything to hurt a girl."

"Would you throw mud?"

"I wouldn't even throw a snowball."

"OK, the lady who mugged you you'd hit her?"

"No."

"You'd trust her?"

"She was hungry, so she stole food."

"The whore put a knife up to you."

"And I was at the bus stop, which means I had to have money, which she didn't take."

"Michael, you're just wrong."

The problem is that he is not that good at trying to prove his point, so generally, it ends that he says I am just wrong. I don't fit into his conception of the world. So every chance he gets, he tries to remind me of my views, and he winds up either trying to insult me to get me to the point where I defend myself, and when that doesn't work, he asks me why I insult myself so much.

That's generally the way it works. There was one time when he scored a major victory. By doing almost nothing.

Devora, our Madricha came into the room to talk to Vegard. I think it was yet another time where somebody has tried to unsuccessfully attempted to point out the hypocrisy of him going back to live with his Christian girlfriend in Norway. So, she finished, with him, I'm not really paying attention, and she says, "Oh, Michael, as long as you're here..."

"Yeah?" I have to say here, that I really do like Devora, she one of the nicest people I know.

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OK, we now return...

"Explain this thing about your hair to me again."

"Oh God." First off, I don't really need people's sympathies on this, second of all, I had heard that the kibbutz was complaining. Not just me, all the other boys in Hachshara, except Vegard, had also let their hair grow for simply cosmetic reasons. Meanwhile Vegard is gleeful, knowing he's about to get an ally in his argument.

He answers for me.

"You've heard about the Nazzir thing, right?"

"Well, I've heard about it. But I'm not quite sure I understand."

So I explained it all to her, grudgingly. I told her how I had been a Nazzir, due to the appropriateness of it in my life, how I did it as a form as to add to my teshuva, how it stopped, and how I kept just a small portion of it now, so as to keep my word to Rav Tendler.

"Michael, people aren't supposed to be nazzirim. We have one in the Torah, and that's it."

"What do you mean? Rav Kook's best student was a Nazzir."

She's not a huge fan of Rav Kook. "No matter what you think of Rav Kook, you're not at a level to try it."

"I'm only doing portions of it. Rav Kook's student never got married never went near a corpse, never cut his hair, never went near grapes, etc. I've done that, I'm only doing a little of it now." I explained what I'm not doing now, and I thought that would end it.

"OK, so you're just doing it till you get married?" I nodded, and was about to leave it at that, when Vegard, giving his contribution, cleared his throat.

I grimaced. "exceptthatIwouldn'tgooutwithagirlwho'sdesperateenoughtodateme..."
******
"She hit him?" Vegard lives to retell this story. "But she's shomer negiya!"

"Look, she just hit me on the head with a pillow." I came in the room once again, to find him telling it. Devora had said I was being ludicrous, and uncharacteristically of her, whacked me on the back of the head with the aforementioned pillow."

"Yeah, and he wouldn't hit her back!" Well, of course not. Meanwhile, I'm finally learning to curb the arguing a little.
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Michael Kadish

"When anyone is held up, he shall immediately telephone the details to a telephone operator. She will plug in every phone in the city and relate the details of the holdup. Near every telephone is to be a shotgun, hanging on the wall. When the story of the holdup is spread through the phones every citizen will seize his shotgun, and rush to the street. All whistles will blow, and at this signal all traffic, including pedestrians, will halt. Anyone besides law officers who moves will be shot." -- George W. Durham, proposition to stop crime in Kansas City
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