Not Exactly as Planned

In his book about the future (Future Shock), Alvin Toffler talked about the future need for people to change professions every ten years of so.

I remember the effect the book had on me back then. It seems that my life has followed a similar pattern.

In my teens it was a very good decade. I wanted to be an astronomer and scientist. I had a book about Mars, a chemistry set and a real dinosaur bone.

Photo: With my sister Rena

But I ended up becoming an expert on bad breath and body odors.  I smelled about 10,000 mouths, armpits and shoes. Not exactly as planned.

In my twenties, it was a very good decade, I wanted to be a famous musician. I played piano and wrote funny songs combining English and Hebrew. Much later, I became a sax player and singer, and helped kickstart the career of some remarkable singers. I produced two CDs. I did a few local festivals. But never made it big.

Photo: With Marina, at the very beginning of her stellar career.

In my thirtees, it was a very good decade. I wanted to be a scientist and successful inventor. One of my first inventions was a pen for people with no thumbs. It wasn’t a big hit. Other subsequent inventions were actually manufactured, including the Quadloop (together with Prof. Ervin Weiss). It retailed for 2 cents, and 2 percent of 2 cents ain’t much in the way of royalties. Not exactly as planned.

I invented the Diaslide. But I wasn’t careful when writing the patent, and another scientist took the basic idea, circumvented the patent, and created a cheaper product. Not exactly as planned.

Together with Dr. Nir Sterer, we developed a ‘litmus paper’ test for bad breath. Everyone was interested. Everyone, until they learned that the molecule that changes color is just a bit carcinogenic.

I invented a word game even better than Scrabble (below). It’s called Qfor2. My kids played it frequently so I thought it was great and invested money in it. Turns out they were just humoring me. Cost them part of their inheritance.

Actually, the only time I really did succeed was when we invented a two-phase mouthwash for fighting bad breath. It became big in the UK and elsewhere. People tell me that Colgate is now manufacturing it in the US.

When I was in my forties, it was a very good decade. I started publishing my children’s stories. The first was, Bacteria Galore by Sunday at four. Since then, there have been many more.

When I was in my fifties, it was a very good decade. I wanted to change education, to make it more exciting, relevant, inspirational, multidisciplinary. Dr. Alon Amit and Hagai Cohen were my partners in crime.

I’m taking a break, but open to offers.

In my fifties, Yossi Vardi started inviting us to wonderful, wacky un-conferences , I persuaded Hagai Cohen to build me a device that allows anyone to ‘water ski on land’. We called it the ‘redseamobile’. We test drove it a few times. On our first attempt,  it end up crashing into a dumpster, with a policeman standing right nearby.

The redseamobile became the ‘deadseamobile’. Not exactly as planned.

When I was in my sixties, it was a very good decade. I wanted to have an internet self-publishing venture. Together with Ran Shternin we started Ourboox.com. We have over 260,000 books created by youngsters and adults all over the world. No business model yet. Does it matter?

I turned seventy recently and hope if will be a good decade. I am focusing on my children’s writing, and have a traditionally-published children’s book coming out (in Hebrew) next month. Some things take more than ten years.

Here’s one of my early songs from way back then (scroll down for the whole miserable text)

Nehama Yisraeli 

The first time I met you was on   דיזנגוף,

Just one look at you, I knew that you were heavy stuff,

But when I smiled and asked   היכן את גרה חמדתי ,

You smiled at me and said  עם משפחתי

So come on, Nehama Yisraeli,

Leave your mother  ובואי איתי,

Come on, I really love you baby,

Leave your little momma ובואי הביתה איתי

The next time I see you on Arlozoroff,

I’m gonna tell you  שנשבר לי  I’ve had more than enough,

Nehama don’t expect me to be a saint,

Because I’ve got something that your  אמא  ain’t….

No she ain’t, I know she ain’t…