In My Stories I Can Kiss The

As The Son Of Holocaust Survivors, This Is Life - You're Put In A Corner, And You Have To Get Out. I Believe That You Can Always Get Out.

What Connects Me So Strongly To Israel Is The Fact That I'm Second Generation. My Parents Said, "we Have A Place Where We Can Just Be Ourselves And Nobody Says, 'don't Tell Me Your Opinion, You Damn Jew, Go Somewhere Else.'" Then You Go To This Country And Other Jews Tell You To Shut Up. It's Frustrating. I Think That We Have A Bad Government And That Some People Are Fearful. They're Going With The Class Bully. But I Really Truly Believe - You Read It In My Stories - That Deep Inside, People Have Goodness.

My Mother, For Example, Told The German Officer Not To Kill Her. She'd Make It Worth His While. And Then, When They Were Doing It, She Pulled A Knife Out Of Her Belt And Sliced Open His Chest, Just Like She Used To Open Chicken Breasts To Stuff With Rice For The Sabbath Meal.

For Three Months, A Person Sits And Looks At You, Imagining A Kiss.

What You Experience In The Army, Aged 18 To 21, Is What You Take Through All Your Life. You Cross Invisible Lines: You Shoot Someone, Get Shot, Break Into People's Houses. It's Naive To Think You Won't Carry Anything Into Your Life.