Rainbow Flag Stolen
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This week I performed an experiment, and tonight I got my first observable results. Early this week, I hung the rainbow flag that I had bought at the pride rally in one of my windows. I thought half-jokingly to myself, "OK, now let's see how long it takes before the mob with torches and pitchforks descends upon the scene." And this evening, just as I was setting up to make havdalah after Shabbos, I heard a snapping sound from the window. As I opened up the window and poked my head outside, I saw a man aged somewhere between very late teens to late twenties scampering along the very narrow ledge that runs along the outer walls of my second-story apartment. I screamed at him in Hebrew, "What are you doing!?" Then I dashed to my front door to chase after him. Having to unlock the door slowed me down enough that he had a big headstart. I yelled, "Thief! Thief!" in Hebrew as he got away. I'm certain that I could have given much more effort into pursuit, but I think my gut held me back to avoid the violence that would have been almost inevitable had I actually caught up to him.
Interestingly enough, my lack of surprise at this turn of events doesn't really seem to reduce the sense of violation.
Of course, we've only gotten started now. When I go to Jerusalem next week to celebrate Seth's birthday and Thanksgiving, I'm going to buy some more flags. This time, I'm going to hang one in my other, much less accessible window, which also happens to be the window that is visible to a far greater portion of the town below. The others will be waiting as backups.