America, America. In five days, I got to do a whole lot of stuff you just can't do in Israel: drive through endless fall foliage, listen to WFAN and classic rock radio (but what ever happened to WCBS-FM 101.1 playing the greatest hits of the 60s, 70s and 80s?!), eat gobs of corned beef and pastrami, visit three different Barnes and Nobleses and buy Costco-sized bags of chocolate for the progeny.

I miss all that and I'm thankful for all the great things one can do in the goldene medinah. But above all I'm thankful that after a few days I go back home before the excess turns my brain to sawdust ("Eric Menendez's lover speaks! Details at 11!") and my body to stuffed kishke.