I became a member of the Israeli paparazzi for a night.
I didn’t mean to, but I was at the Ben Gurion airport, waiting for my mother to be dropped off by relatives in Tel Aviv, so that I could see her off back to LA. I was getting over a cold, and right before I left my apartment in Jerusalem, I put on baggy jeans and an oversized, paint-stained sweatshirt, wanting to be comfortable, thinking “who am I going to see at the airport.”
So I’m waiting for my mom in the departure hall when I notice a skinny man with an E! channel microphone and a few other photographers. What American celebrity is coming to Israel, I wonder? With my reporter’s radar up, I approach one photographer. Turns out the cast of the film