And in my youth I had two Solomon kings – Solomon my grandfather, and Solomon my country.
But Shlomo’s grandfather did not like Shlomo Artzi.
During an argument between our sons, he once threw me:
“If you tie me to a chair and give me his songs – by the third song I’ll already be sharing state secrets!”
The last time my grandfather, King Shlomo the Great, came to visit me in Tel Aviv, he asked me to take him to show him the sea.
I decided that on the trip I would challenge him and speed up the blood flow in his body, and without asking or warning him, I put the then new album of my country on the system in the car – “Sane”, to be played all the way to the sea and I turned up the volume with a smile.
And the drive goes on and on, passing another traffic light and another traffic light.
I’m waiting for him to get angry. But when the fourth song on the album comes, “We stuck together” – Grandpa already starts drumming on his jeans and really smiles.
Then, right at the last red light closest to the beach,
Grandpa turns his gaze to me and he is beaming with happiness and satisfaction, and says to me in a quiet tone full of genuine encouragement:
“Listen… your new songs… I was unusually impressed!”