Rivka 8

Cindi addresses the crowd of a dozen women, gathered at someone's house. "I got good news and bad, which do you want first?"
Cries of "good" dominate.
"We have here an Army officer, Rivka, who has happily consented to paddle all and sundry."
Loud raucous cries of approval, then someone asks, "what's the bad?"
Cindi grins awkwardly, "she is simply learning. In fact this is her first time."
Some ask how that could possibly be, an officer without experience.
Cindi smiles, "as I recall you are from Montreal."
"Oh yes."
"You've seen the Black Hats, ultraOrthodox?"
"Who in Montreal has not?"
"Well that's how Rivka grew up, leads to a rather different life experience. Still, look at the bright side, no bad habits to unlearn."
They happily accept and we get started.
I decline to go into detail, wishing to keep my story suitable for children. Suffice it to say, the taboo no longer exists. Some guy seeks his butt turned purple and I would have no problem delivering.
And yes, I will be joining this crowd again. Two reasons, good practice and oh is it fun. Burns off a lot of life's stress and angst.
(So ends Part One; the blog could be inactive several months as Part Two is prepared.)

Rivka 7

That evening I feel strung out, need some distraction from my problems in life.
I go online to look up the history of the Loch Rannoch Highlanders.
The Canadian version has never been to war, was formed as part of the Cold War buildup. They have however done two spectacular tours when the former Yugoslavia imploded during the 1990's.
The original Scottish version has two centuries of illustrious history. Their pinnacle of fame was facing German Paras on World War 2 Crete. History records the Germans "won", that is were left in possession of the real estate afterward. The cost, astronomical, far beyond Der Fuhrer's worst nightmare.
In fact, Crete marks a watershed, a drastic shift in Para roles for the Germans. True, they never again suffered a similar meltdown; but at the cost of turning the much vaunted Paras into essentially infantry with a status symbol badge.
It is then I feel a hot sense of shame. An officer in a famous old line Scottish regiment does not play silly games like the lessons.
I dig them out, discover the three lessons take an hour each.
It's not til they are safely in the mail box that I feel right again.

Rivka 6

I was impressed by the food, reasonable price and location of Caffeine Cave, so I return next Saturday.
Cindi the manageress recognizes me instantly, "show your Reserve ID at the cashier, 10% discount."
"I thought that was just during meetings."
"Heavens no, any time you come. Mind if I sit here a minute?"
"Go ahead."
She flashes a sad smile, "that story was sooo lame. Only reason they got sucked in, at first they thought you meant a clergyman. I'm guessing you've never done S&M."
I blush hotly, "makes me a rarity nowadays."
"And I don't imagine there's a huge lineup of potential boyfriends."
"A tactful way of putting it."
"They're too fussy, feel entitled to walk into any bar or coffee house and meet a totally experienced b**** goddess type."
Drily, "yeah, so I've noticed."
"It's like starting out in the job market. No one hires you without experience, yet how do you get experience if no one hires you?"
I nod.
Leans forward, earnest tone, "I know how you can get lotsa practice, for free, with unfussy people."
"No thanks, I don't swing that way, pardon the pun."
Laugh, "who said anything about sex? Just I happen to have friends who would be delighted to let you perfect that stroke."
"I ah well ah"
"Come on now, you know I'm right. Do it your way and it's like walking around the walls of Jericho 118 times, your odds of snagging a boyfriend."
I stare off into space, ponder, "ye-ah, guess you're right. So ah when do y'all meet?"

Rivka 5

I have several errands to do. By the time I return home, there's a voicemail from Naomi.
In as nasty a tone as I've ever heard her use, "what a ****ing liar you are! Missing the committee meeting over that so called officer meeting. I hardly think two minutes of business followed by endless S&M talk is a good use of the taxpayer dollar. And all you disgusting officers will collect a half day's pay off that."
(Wrong we collect zero and I'm out the price of brunch.)
"Now that I could even forgive. But what a traitorous swine you are! Everyone but everyone knows that Cabinet Minister is Jewish. I mean surely you could have used some OTHER story."
(Oy!)
"We've decided to ostracize you, hell will freeze over before any of us talk to you again."
Slam!
I stare out the window lost in thought. They weren't real friends but all I had left. One misunderstanding or another has peeled away my previous supply of friends.
I could call her, try to tell her it was just a made up story at random. Pointless, she'd never believe me.
The phone rings, Ingrid the female Capt. Uneasy tone, "just thought I'd warn you, better deep six that story, don't tell anyone else."
"I ah well ah"
"Hey look, it that Minister had been white, I'd have happily given them the name. But just ponder for a moment on who you are now. Can you imagine the ructions if officers of Her Majesty publicly trash the only Black Minister?"
"Ye-ah, we would soooo come across as racist."
"Word to the wise. Anyhow I'm dying to know, was it Wolfe or Montcalm?"
"Wolfe of course."
"Ah ha, exactly as I suspected, just didn't have enough clues. See you next meeting."
I hang up in bewilderment. Is it even within the bounds of the possible that two men have the exact same fantasy? Then I laugh at myself, they compare notes on cars and computers, so why not this? One learned from the other, tried it and liked it.

Rivka 4

At a lull in the conversation, a female Captain turns to me, patronizing tone, "so tell me, what's the kinkiest S&M you've done?"
Actually none, I think the whole crowd is nuts, but there they sit, expecting an answer. Best to avoid extreme stuff or they'll see through my story.
"It happened that a Minister was in town on business. I ah well that is spanked him vigorously with his belt. For the rest of the evening, I lounged back reading a book ordered him to keep licking my shoes. Any sort of lag or hesitation, another swat or two."
There's a lot of snickering, except one guy muttering about "sacrilege".
I smile sweetly, "oh my, you must have misunderstood, I meant Cabinet Minister. And no, I ain't giving clues, not even federal or provincial."
The female Capt has a stunned look, says quietly, "I know exactly who you mean, but we'll just keep it our secret."
Despite the firestorm of protest, she refuses to divulge the name.

Rivka 3

My second lesson arrives, then third. As I suspected, no follow up on the missing first lesson. I cheerfully file the new arrivals away, with the thought it's unlikely now I'll ever hafta bother.
It's a male voice on the phone, used to a lot of authority, asking for me by name. (Oh oh, the lessons?) I correct the pronunciation of my name.
"This is Col Anderson, CO of the Loch Rannoch Highlanders. Your presence is requested at our quarterly officers' meeting."
"It was my understanding Col, the Armory was padlocked."
He turns apologetic, "it's not a real meeting, we gather for coffee. Think about continuity. Now if everyone just scatters for three or four years, hard to get back together as a group."
"Ok then."
"Ten o'clock this Saturday at the Caffeine Cave. Your choice of brunch or just coffee, everyone buys their own."
The last arrival shows at 10:10. Col rises, "two items of business. Meet Lt Rivka Nachtenstein, who got the highest ever exam score."
I see looks varying from admiration to awe. Then realize no one else is privy to the secret of writing zip.
"As for budget, not good. Nothing, nada, zilch, a big fat zero for next fiscal year too. Enough of this, meeting adjourned, let's chat."
To one side of me, the casino and racetrack crowd exchange stories which are probably true, but to me seem incomprehensible. To the other side, the S&M crowd is so loud and so crude, they draw nasty looks from other tables.
Oh no, here comes the restaurant manageress, we're in big trouble. Not! She pulls up a chair, happily joins in on the S&M chat.

Rivka 2

A week later, Friday's mail brings two brown envelopes from the Crystal Palace, slang for National Defence HQ.
One is my first correspondence lesson. I cheerfully file it away. Everyone knows that except for Revenue forms, much of bureaucracy is negotiable or optional. It they really want it, they'll send a reminder when it becomes overdue. And if they really really want it, they'll send a second request, right?
The second envelope yields an ID card with my unsmiling face, proclaims Lt Rivka Nachtenstein is a member in good standing of the Loch Rannoch Highlanders, the local Reserve unit.
For a moment, my stomach girates. Then I recall a newspaper story on how Occupational Health and Safety padlocked their armory building, until such time as ordered repairs are done. Given the current budget situation, it ain't gonna be anytime soon.
Now one of my downfalls in life is insuffient ability to ignore peer pressure, a common condition in women. And so it is, I find myself dragooned into attending a meeting of the political action committee on Saturday.
I'll meet Naomi, Gretchen and Sue for breakfast first. I arrive a few minues late, just know they've been talking about me. Now I really was planning to tell them the truth about the exam, oh yes I was.
But Naomi, who has done a hitch in the IDF (Israeli Defence Force), greets me sarcastically, "so how did the mighty warrior do on the exam? Surely the random draft machine burped when it spit out your name. You wouldn't know a matchlock from an M-16."
My resolve to tell the truth vanishes. With an icy arrogant gesture, I toss the ID card on the table.
Their eyes go wide and Naomi even blushes. I reckon that's a first, her blushing.

Rivka 1

Saturday morning everyone in line looks scared, some afraid of failing, others of passing.
A fat hungover Sgt opens the door, "exams will remain face down until I give the order to turn them over."
We enter, find seats.
"You have one hour on the actual questions. When I order you to stop, turn to the back page, which asks what you find remarkable about this exam. You have as much time as you wish for this. No one leaves without first getting a card, when your appointment with the Colonel will be."
Theatrically raises a sport style stop watch, "begin."
I turn it over, write my name, read the questions.
1. Which brand name of guitar was used by Three Dog Night and at what approximate cost?
2. Who sang "Great Canadian Tour"?
3. In which year did the government order the abandonment of Hebron (northern Labrador) and who was then Mayor of Hebron?
4. How much did Gordie Howe donate to the United Way in 1983?
5. Give the name and drug arrest history of the lead singer of Canadian Zephyr.
6. Which Alberta town built a landing pad for UFO's and what is its length?
7. Give the location and town where Trudeau gave the one finger salute.
8. What was the rate of income tax in 1917?
9. Which author invented the word "McJobs"?
10. Wolfe and Montcalm faced off at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham. One was a closet fairy. Name which and give six clues to justify your choice. (note: foppish uniforms of the era are NOT a clue, as both sides had foppish.)
I don't even know enough to intelligently guess. And surely this exam is beyond psychotic. So, I'll write zip. What's the worst they can do? Hardly like getting failed is a problem.
Sgt calls time. Everyone else writes diligently on the comment page, some with a driven look.
Surely it is beyond a waste of my time. I pass in my paper, receive a card asserting I must meet the Col Wednesday at 2 pm. Rats! Half a day's pay shot, by the time I bus it here and wait.
Col has an amused look as I'm ushered in, "please, help yourself to coffee."
I do.
"I congratulate you on achieving the all time record high score."
I gasp, my coffee swirls, dangerously close to spilling.
"105%, qualifies you as a Lieutenant in the Reserves."
"Sir, could you explain how that mark was arrived at?"
"Certainly, anyone smart enough to write absolutely zero gets 100%, shows a person of good judgment. The 5% is your bonus for being a minority."
I raise an eyebrow.
"Just one thing, could I ask why you wrote no comment on the back page?"
"Sir, that would be because I found nothing remarkable."
"You didn't?"
"No sir, it was pretty much as stupid as anything else the feds write, ergo unremarkable."
He laughs heartily, then, "ok smart ass, it's off to a four month residential course for you. Unfortunately that won't be anytime soon. No budget this fiscal year. Little chance of any next fiscal. But we have a plan, oh yes we do. We send you ten correspondence lessons in the meantime."
It's all I can do not to laugh. Still, what the hay, I'm off the hook, so who cares how?

Table of Contents

Tzeporah - entered August 10 to September 10, 2007 - a refugee from the past finds it necessary to remain hidden.

Caroline - May 7 to 14, 2007 - what happens when both parents die of drug overdose, leave you growing up with Grandma?

All other items - last full Table of Contents published April 2007. For ease of finding, please scroll down at right and click on "April 2007".

Tzeporah 17

It's the week before Tzeporah joins Revenue; I'm bed ridden with a bad flu. I'm at my place, not wishing to be a burden on her. In retrospect, this is a huge error, buy hey hindsight is always 20 - 20.
A very clear vision comes to me, a sense of absolute knowingness. I clearly see her with four bottles of aspirin lined up, starting to swallow the lot. I should climb out of bed, phone and try to talk her out of it, but I feel too ill to move.
With no other option I opt to pray. Yes I start by admitting I'm one of the least wonderful people walking the planet and I of all people have no right to ask for anything. However, she's younger, a good person, doesn't deserve to die over being temporarily down. So, please send a wave of nausea which will cause her to throw up the lot. And no, I don't expect something for nothing, you can take my life in payment.
When I awake, I'm in what is clearly her bed and the flu is totally gone. Walking to the bathroom, the mirror yields a total shock. Well uh that is, for sure what is going on the head is me, the real self; yet it's her body. Too tired to think, I lie back down.
The coroner's verdict is death by accidental poisoning. Confidentially I'm told there is a 99.9% certainty that he suicided, but since there is no note, they give benefit of the doubt.
I have the body cremated, will scatter the ashes on the water when I next vacation in Victoria.
Revenue proves to be a nightmare journey straight into hell, but not for the reasons I imagine.
In contrast to my previous term clerical job, there is no harrassment in Business Audit.
There are two sorts of sadists floating around here; those who indulge all the time and those awho indulge whenever the whim arises. The latter group spots me as a kindred soul and absorbs me with a rapid pace.
My challenge never is work performance, getting sufficient files of sufficient quality done. It's trying to remain a reasonable human by only showing my teeth when I feel the taxpayer in question has it coming. And yes I freely admit I'm a bit less than perfect doing this.
Karen proves a surprise. In no time, she has spotted me as an imposter, yet hangs on loyally, dispensing advice as we coffee together.
As we go to a coffee house at the six month mark, something in her manner suggests heavy artillery incoming. She steers me toward a quiet corner with a gesture more fitting for a Feldwebel (Sgt/Maj) than a friend.
Leaning forward, too earnest tone, "okay Colonel, enough pi**ing around, today you act. Enough of you saying, 'maybe later'. Look I'm not trying to be nasty, this is for your own good. Why? The two guys in question may not last long, compared to most that are available. So, how do you feel about S&M? If a guy wanted his ass turned purple weekly, surely you'd oblige?"
I sigh, "that is so last year. I've changed, matured, mellowed. That stuff all seems pointless."
"All right then, a TV sports addict. Downside is you'd never get him doing his share around the place, get probably a quarter or less of the attention most women consider necessary. Upside, he doesn't drink to excess, or smoke or gamble."
Compared to everyone else she's mentioned, this guy sounds like pure heaven. Why play around? I smile, "ok, set me up for coffee with him."
Encouraging smile, "that's the spirit, you've come a long way," then picks up her cell.

Tzeporah 16

And then the unthinkable happens. Some bureaucrat from External Affairs, no doubt driven by a sense of righteous zeal, leaks my file to the media.
We-ell, there is no photo given and it is a very common surname. There is however voluminous anecdotal evidence of the doings of my first cousin. Head of a squad of soldiers, he oversaw some 30 Russian POWs in labor of a previously abandoned as too marginal small coal mine. The file comes complete with the endorsement of the four previous Ministers that this guy is simply too small a fish to waste any investigative resources on.
Curiously nothing happens. No reporters, no knock on the door from CSIS (CIA with a stutter), no assassins.
I find myself feeling almost left out. Still, I now need all the psy energy I can muster, as Tzeporah is totally freaked by the progress of her job search. Revenue now looks to be inevitable and she isn't taking it well at all.

Tzeporah 15

I soon soften in my views on the matter. There are of course two limiting factors which would slow Tzeporah down in any inclination to excess travel: money and the amount of vacation time she has available. So, if I hafta go work three months each year to pay my share, who cares?
Upon return to Canada, I continue on with the reading list I got from Karen. Since I am not faculty or staff or student, I cannot get a borrowing card, but must read in university library.
A lot of this stuff is quite shaking, and I find I must consult by phone with Karen.
Tzeporah gets a huge shock, her department is downsizing and she is placed on one year of notice, given priority rights to use elsewhere in the public service. Initial response to this is not good, no one actually spending money is hiring. Only gargantuan Revenue keeps taking in people. While her risk of being unemployed is quite low, her risk of suffering a substantial downturn in quality is huge, given Revenue's bad reputation.
Since I'm at the library most weekdays, I fall into the pattern of spending a few minutes perusing the Globe and Mail, Canada's only truly national newspaper.
It's a front page item, a leak from External Affairs. There is a quasi secret government project called the Jerusalem List, text of memo given.
At first of course, the government even denies it exists. Once handwriting experts confirm the validity of signatures of both External Affairs Minister and National Safety Minister, they backpedal and admit that yes, it does exist.
As days proceed and question period in Parliament gets more and more embarrassing, they finally assert that it has been invoked only four times since inception. Three of the people are now dead.
This of course heightens the media and Parliamentary circus as everyone wishes to know who that person might be.
The left steadfastly asserts it is a massive violation of human rights and the right, that the person got off easy, should have been charged with something or other.
Eventually the newspaper goes to court, to obtain an order for release of name. After several days of closed door session, they issue a remarkable statement.
Archival and photo experts have pored over this diligently. They are convinced odds are 1/3 that the Canadian man on the Jerusalem List is really who he is alleged to be and 2/3 that he is the two year younger brother.
Accordingly, the name will not be released.
Curious. I have neither brother or sister, so who? Of course, they are referring to my two year older first cousin and his younger brother of my same age. The younger lad and I were in the same class, and close enough in appearance we were sometimes confused.
Calling up internet archives, I realize they have absolutely nothing on me. Even in they tried to prove I was the older lad, it's a lot less serious matter.
As to who I really was, they have not one iota of clue. My relief is enormous, as is Tzeporah's.

Tzeporah 14

Of course we stay at an apartment hotel, with kitchenette with stove and half size fridge. No one can afford restaurant meals here.
It's a peacable place, cops float around without guns.
We read the paper everyday, ridiculous stuff shows like so and so fined $5 for swearing at the police. The biggie employer, sugar, runs a weekly column naming and shaming the litterbugs. Proof positive - paystubs littering the yard.
We enjoy it while we can. There is of course no hope of staying here. Their Immigration only accepts the rich.
And so it is we return to the real world or what masquerades as such.
Already I see future problems. As in she wants to do a lot of these trips. And yes they are nice, but not really worth the hassle, harrassment and boredom of those term hitches at Revenue to pay my share.

Table of Contents

Last full one published April 2007. For ease of finding, please scroll down at right and click on "April 2007."

Tzeporah 13

The first real dispute concerns travel. Tzeporah announces we should go away to Barbados for a month during the winter, to escape the cold, and she is willing to pay.
I have two problems with that. First, and I'd never admit to her, there were certain irregularities about my first arrival in Canada. Yes I've had Canadian passports before, but not since the era of hyperparanoia.
Second, and I can admit to her, pride would not allow it, I would have to pay half. I suggest Victoria as a low budget getaway, one I use myself sometimes. With low airfares and motels costing $650 a month in off season, it's perfect. Well no, she insists she doesn't like the cool and rainy there, it must be Barbados.
My hand shakes as I tear open the registered envelope from External Affairs. A shiny new passport greets me, with but one error, listing my birthplace as Jerusalem.
I phone the toll free number. The third person I'm transferred to sounds amused, "no sir, I can assure you, we never make clerical errors like that. In fact I happen to have your file on my screen right now. Let's just say we let bygones be bygones, aren't interested in your real past. What we are concerned with, what you may plan for future travel. Now, if you really are going to Barbados, and similar destinations in future, be assured this passport will present no problem. If you have other plans, just imagine how much explaining you'll need to do after showing that passport."
I shudder.
The money problem is easily solved. I get a three month term hitch at Revenue, working on T4 matching program. It's boring, but what do you expect?
And so it is, we are aloft. As we near Barbados, the hostesses pass out tourist arrival cards.
Tzeporah sees me fill mine out, "holy sh**, I never knew that."
"Knew what?"
"Don't play innocent, you know what I mean, born in Jerusalem."
I smile wanly, feel it's wisest not to divulge my conversation with External Affairs.
By now she's laughing, "it would appear Fate has a huge sense of irony, imagine that, You arriving on the planet in Jerusalem."
I pull a face, "well kept secret it was, not something you'd want to see mentioned in Der Sturmer."

Tzeporah 12

A number of things happen. For one, I get a reading list of items from the university library from Karen, and start learning more on the topic.
Things are of course much better between Tzeporah and me.
Also, Karen holds a tutorial for Tzeporah, shows her some of the tricks used in training me. Once this gets put into practice, the energy level between Tzeporah and me goes a way up.
Yes, things look good, but paradoxically this makes me uneasy. See my experience is, whenever stuff appears to be going well, then watch out. It's been like that for so many years, it's hard to shake that feeling.
(So ends Part Two; the blog could be inactive for several months as Part Three is prepared.)

Tzeporah 11

My first reaction is a bit of huffiness; no one likes being preached at. Within minutes, it melts away as I realize Karen was giving me the advice for my own good.
I follow her orders to the letter. It succeeds beyond even my wildest expectations. At first, I'm suspicious, wonder why. Then, hearing Tzeporah talk of Ottawa, it becomes obvious.
You see, most of her colleagues there were French Canadians, who tend to dislike her group even more than Anglos do.
So, in a sense I represented contrast value, doing the right thing at the right time.
I realize of course I owe a gift to Karen, yet ponder on what. It could not be something her boyfriend would either know of or be able to disapprove of. Of course, a gift certificate at the book store.

Tzeporah 10

The third weekend brings a surprise. Friday evening I must perform in front of two of her female friends.
Now, to be fair to Karen, she was honest from the start. She never either stated or implied an ongoing relationship. Her real boyfriend, who had given permission to wander during his abscence, was on a tour of duty in Afghanistan, which would end about two weeks before Tzeporah's return from Ottawa.
Still, I had been at least half heartedly hoping to stay on, what with the huge amount of energy between us.
I arrive at her place for that final weekend.
She grins, "before we get started, time we had a serious talk."
Don't you just hate it when women say that.
"Now we've very scrupulously avoided any of that taboo topic, the history. Still, one comment should suffice. I've read quite a bit on it. Conclusion, your side was considerably more traumatized by events than mine."
I blush hotly.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, let's keep it all clinical. Now the standard response is PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Basically, you experience a shutting down of pretty much any emotion; if not total, then almost so, right?"
"Yes."
"Which explains your relationships with women in general and Tzeporah in particular. Now, she actually likes you and a fair amount; yet you find yourself to be neutral, ambivalent, right?"
"Yes."
"But yet you connected well with me?"
Again I blush.
"Hey look nothing to be ashamed, proof you aren't totally gone. Now, here's what I'm telling you to do about Tzeporah. Meet her at the airport, take her straight home and deliver a vigorous spanking. Come on, don't look squeamish, you remember how well she reacted to our weekend of cleaning?"
"Yes."
"So, just do it. Force yourself to be nice, to be involved, until it starts to come naturally. And now, "giggle, "you can start by practising on me."