Only in Israel is it possible to buy an oil lamp from a man who throws in complimentary goodies and sends you round the block to have it fixed by his friend the solderer...
...who, after giving you his opinion on how to make the lamp look best, asks you where you buy your dry goods and reveals that the owner of your general store is his brother, asks you to send regards, and reminisces about growing up in your neighborhood...
...to which you return on foot, stopping en route to catch a cobbling lesson from the cobbler as he fixes your shoes...
...getting to your street just in time to catch a yarmulke as it flies off the head of a boy sailing down the road on a go-cart made of scrap wood, a length of twine, and discarded stroller wheels...
...as you pass the fruit store, whose owner pops out to give your toddler a banana.
Do I live in the 50's? No, I live in Jerusalem.
Y-E-E-S-S-S! No place like it!
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