Diana, Elvis and BDS

It’s the night before her show in Israel, and Diana Krall has her suitcase at the door, ready to go to the airport.

Diana: OK Hun, I’m ready. The taxi’ll be here in a few minutes.

Elvis Costello: OK.

Diana: So, are you going to just sit there or are you going to come here and say goodbye?

Elvis gets up and gives her a little peck on her left cheek. He walks back to his chair, picks up a book

Elvis: Have a great trip.

Diana is astounded

Diana: Did you just peck me? Was that a fucking “peck”?

Elvis: Call it whatever you want.

Diana: OK, WHAT’S your problem?

Elvis: Nothing.

Diana: Is this because I’m going to Israel?

Elvis: Could be.

Diana: OK. Well, I thought we talked about this. You said we can each have our own opinion on things.

Elvis: Well, I just don’t like your opinion. I’m entitled to not like your opinion, aren’t I? Or have we turned into some kind of fascist state, like, I dunno… ummm…. ISRAEL!

Diana: OK, first: that’s the last time you raise your voice at me, “four-eyes”. Second, let’s keep the tones down, it’s ruining my cool-funky-jazz vibe. Third, Israel is not a fascist state. And I’m going, whether you like it or not.

Elvis: Fine. Support apartheid. I don’t care.

Diana: Yeah, yeah, yeah, go ahead, use the good ‘ole “Israeli apartheid” one, I love those. Next thing you know you’ll be on a flotilla to Gaza, knife in hand and disguised as a peace activist.

Elvis: They WERE peace activists!

Diana: Shut up! You’ll wake the twins, dammit!

Elvis: Sorry, sorry… shhhh…

Diana: The odds that those guys were peace activists are about the same as me playing “Great Balls of Fire” with my stiletos.

Elvis: You could probably make a nice cover for that one, you know?

Diana: I know! I can actually hear myself churning it out of my jazz-machine.

Elvis: Seriously, you should do it.

Diana: I will! G-d, I love you baby! You really get me… Why do we have to fight?

Elvis: We don’t. Stay home. Just cancel at the last minute. That’s what I did.

Diana: That’s just mean.

Elvis: Yeah… I know, hehe.

Diana: Seriously, that was uncalled for, Elvis.

Elvis: Yeah, whatever.

Diana: Don’t “whatever” me. It’s not like you didn’t know there was an occupation going on. You didn’t have to sell each and every ticket and then get a fucking conscience!

Elvis: Shhhh you’ll wake the fuckin’ twins!

Diana: Don’t use that word with the twins in the same sentence, you moron!

Elvis stands right in front of her

Elvis: Did you just call me a moron?

Diana takes one step closer. Their noses are almost touching

Diana: Yeah!

Elvis: Oh yeah?

Diana: Yeah!

Elvis looks at Diana, then takes a quick glance at the bedroom. Diana follows his gaze. He looks back at her

Elvis: Make-up sex?

Diana: Oh yeah!

Elvis: But what about the show?

Diana: Aw fuck ‘em, I can’t stand Israelis anyway. Come on!

They run to the bedroom. Downstairs, the taxi is honking

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