Plowing ahead in Israel’s wartime

Plowing ahead in wartime

Israel. Born 1948. Water then — rationed. Food stamps issued for meals. To honor a new incoming VIP, an Arab chieftain in the Negev gave his visitor the eye of a sheep.

This, word for word, is from life there now. My reporting was just told by a Jerusalem family to their relatives who live here. They then told it, word for word, to me.

“We run from our homes to take shelter from bombs raining down around us, many times, often eight times in one night. Time doesn’t matter.

“Official safe rooms have been specially created. Thick concrete walls. Sealed in, together with steel shutters and windows reinforced. These basement safe rooms are now in all, every one, of the newer buildings. Old buildings have been redone, and certain areas are reinforced to code.

“Each safe room is equipped with food, water, beds, chairs. We’re to stay there maybe two hours, sometimes all night. Ones in homes have toys, food, books.

“Steel windows. Concrete walls. Even if you don’t know of direct hits, you can hear shrapnel. Actually see a nearby bridge collapse.

“When a missile is incoming, the government knows. There’s a phone alert. Sirens go off. You immediately go again . . . yet again . . . to your safe room or shelter. Eventually comes the all-clear.

“Last time it was 30 yards from our holy mosque, the third holiest site in Israel.

“And it’s not too many flights into or out of Israel. Was 12, now, maybe three. Leaving Israel they can carry only 50 people onboard.

“Somehow we will all get through. We’ll move on. No choice. It is all we can do.”

As one Israeli put it: “Listen, in California, on a good night, 20 people get killed.”

Shen Yun’s stuff of legend

One bright light in NYC? Shen Yun. The famous dancers, a sort of Chinese version of the Radio City Rockettes, annually present their 5,000 years of artistry and culture at the David H. Koch Theater.

No single stumble, zero missteps, this glorious production is there until April 12.

The theater was mobbed! Everyone: Go see Shen Yun.

1949, this heritage was threatened when the Communist Party came to power. Politics aside, in the huge David Koch Theater, every seat was taken. What you can do with the Chinese Communists, I don’t know. What you can do about this glorious night in the theater, I also know. Go see it.

Diplo’s farewell

Meanwhile, NYC lost another bright light. David Cornstein. Born here. Homes: Park Avenue and the Hamptons. Businessman, politician, our ambassador to Hungary. David helped everyone. He leaves Sheila, his beautiful wife of a lifetime who always wins at cards, and sports agent son Marc and his wife, Natasha. When he was in Budapest, David invited me. He was known and loved in every restaurant this side of Madagascar.

And I’ve written it this way thinking it might make him smile.

What’s left of NYC’s major donors before they move out? The Realtor gave one charity $1,000. Another proclaimed: “Oh, please, I’ll give $5,000.” The third, a manufacturer who’d lived on Park Avenue, shouted: “Before I move to Florida (where wellness signs even hang in funeral homes), I’ll give $10,000.” Another who’d pledged $5,000 then got up and cried: “I now give $500 more for something I hold dear to my heart: the $10,000 I just gave you.”

Only in Zero Crapdammy’s New York, kids, only in Zero Crapdammy’s New York.