My Secret Vice
Maybe it’s because I live in SoCal where the weather outside is decidedly not frightful. Nor do we ever dash through the snow. Or do we do the jingle bell rock in the frosty air. Heck, our air isn’t frosty.
“Seasonal” songs are meteorogically out of place here. The ersatz snow on shop windows looks…well, fake. Winter attire is not really necessary, but it somehow fits the time of year. So anything winter-esque has an innate Christmas connotation because it otherwise doesn’t make sense on a balmy 78 F sun-filled day. In other words, perhaps that is why non-religious Christmas songs seem so…Christian.
I have a confession to make. I love Christmas music. I mean, I really love Christmas music. I always have. I especially like the religious Christmas music and I think that I prefer it because I am, at heart, a religious person.
The words to O Holy Night always take my breath away. I am not a Christian nor could I see myself ever being a Christian. But that song, more than any other, helps me understand what Christmas was meant to symbolize to my friends who are Christian.
So I have rules:
Rule #1 — Never listen to Christmas music on Shabbos. This is easy because I don’t listen to secular music or news on Shabbos anyway.
Rule #2 — Never listen to Christmas music in my study. It just seems too weird to play it at shul, don’t you think?
Rule #3 — Never listen to Christmas music when the kids are in the car. I always knew that they would be exposed to Christmas music in their secular schools. I just don’t think that they should hear it in their Jewish home. In fact, Beernut told me two days ago that he thought it was time to bring some of the Chanukah CDs into the car for the ride to school.
Even though Peach is just two days shy of 20 months, I don’t put it on in the car. Not since I learned from one of my professors that every single life experience is stored in our memory bank. I want my kids’ natural inclination to lean towards tunes written in minor keys.
My Newish Jewish Discovery*
Ooo…ooo…ooo…I have a new favourite site! It’s called The Book of Life. Hosted by the Children’s Jewish Librarian guru, Heidi Estrin, these podcasts go behind the scenes of Jewish literature for kids. Classics and new-found treasures are explored. A MUST-BOOKMARK for any reader!
(*with apologies to my long-time teacher, Craig Taubman, for using this title and not actually writing about the album by the same name!)
‘Tis the Season
There is something about this time of year that motivates people to spread “holiday” cheer wherever they are.
So here is my question:
Do the people who wear reindeer antlers and Santa hats as they go about their normal activities believe they have made a rational fashion choice?
Parenting Choices
Imagine yourself as a 5th grader when suddenly your father decides that he wants you to play baseball. He enrolls you in Little League. You attend most of the practices but none of the games. Your father doesn’t attend anything, leaving all of the arrangements to your non-athletic mother who knows not a homerun from a touchdown. Then, in the 7th grade, your team makes it to South Williamsport, PA for the Little League World Series and the first game you’ve ever attended, never mind played, will be in front of thousands of people. And in front of your father. That is the first and last time you are on the field.
Now imagine yourself as that kid all grown up and with kids of your own. You want your kids to play baseball and have before you two options; to make choices that differed from your own negative experience. OR…to repeat the sins of your father.
A kid in our shul recently became Bar Mitzvah. It was the first such service he had attended because his father hadn’t had to attend services when HE was “getting Bar Mitzvahed.”. So his son never came to shul. And the “deer-in-the-headlights” look on the kid’s face was evidence of that. He did amazingly well considering he only began his education in the 5th grade because his father didn’t start until HE was in the 5th grade. Mom did the schlepping and made all the arrangments because that’s what HIS mother did. Didn’t matter that she’s not Jewish. Nor did it matter that we have different expectations for our families. If it was good enough for him, well then it was good enough for his kid.
And it showed. A more uncomfortable family I have never seen.
Who parents this way? What message is he sending his son, whom I fear will not darken the doorstep of a shul until HIS kid’s Bar or Bat Mitzvah, about the value of being Jewish?
Prior to the service, our kids read over the Bar/Bat Mitzvah certificate and then affix their name on it. It gives us one last opportunity to remind them (and their parents) that Bar Mitzvah is not some terminal experience. Rather, it marks the point at which the youngster becomes responsible (with loving, and sometimes stern, guidance from their parents) for religious obligations. As the kid was signing his certificate, one of the Rabbis reminded him that he was promising to behave in a certain fashion. The father said (in all seriousness), “like repecting your Old Man.”. “No,” replied the Rabbi, “such as continuing your Jewish education.”
The highlight of the experience was Havdallah. As I was about to start one of the blessings, I suddenly realized that something was off. The Bar Mitzvah was taking a sip of the wine that lingered a moment too long and before I could stop him, the wine was gone. Made it a little harder to extinguish the flame without anything more than a single drop of wine.
The nechemta (consolation) in all of this is the mother. Having been the driving force these many months, SHE understands the importance of being here. And she will be the one, I pray, who will make certain that her son upholds the promise he made.
Thank you, HGTV!
What does a person with meningitis DO for the many weeks she is in bed?
The first two weeks were spent sleeping, thanks to the wonderful narcotics combined with the absolute fatigue of the illness.
After that initial period, I was able to stay awake for several hours each day. Much to my irritation, I was unable to use this time to make any sort of headway as far as the tower of books on my nightstand is concerned because I couldn’t read. The virus had made it difficult to focus. Plus any prolonged intellectual activity hurt.
Television. And lots of it. Law & Order (the entire franchise), West Wing, and the news. I discovered Without a Trace. But most of all, HGTV.
HGTV (Home and Garden TV) is like the television version of Home Depot. They are empowering. Whenever I walk into Home Depot, they make me feel as though I am capable of executing any home improvement project I undertake. It’s an amazing power they have given that I have no such ability IRL (thats “in real life” for those of you who aren’t fluent in Text or Twit). HGTV is the same way. Watching hours and hours of home improvement made me want to redecorate, relandscape, and redo our entire house! Of course, that might have been influenced by the heavy medication…
Beernut, who is in the 3rd grade, had a trimester project that was due today. The students were asked to trace their family’s roots and learn about an ancestor who came to America from another country.
Part One:
Why did s/he come to America?
When did s/he come to America?
What was it like in the country before s/he left?
What was it like for your ancestor when s/he first came to America?
Part Two:P
Include in your report —
1. Map of the country your ancestor came from
2. The dress and customs of that country
3. The type of industry and jobs in that country
4. Special foods eaten
5. Special holidays celebrated (if any)
6. Three additional facts about the country
7. Any additional information you would like to add
8. Drawings to illustrate anything in your report
Part Three:
Make a doll from a clothespin dressed as your ancestor.
3-5 pages, typed, and with a bibliography and title page.
Given that we are Jewish, this was not exactly as straightforward as it looked. Beernut decided to interview my grandmother about her mother’s experience as an immigrant. Grandma Gussie came from Galicia, a region in Eastern Europe. The problem is that the geo-political fluctuated regularly; sometimes it was part of the Austrian Empire, sometimes Poland. Now? Ukraine. She came from a shtetl called Kalusz. Beernut wrote about life in the shtetl rather than life in Austria or Poland or Ukraine because that was our experience before we came here. He was excited to learn that many of the foods we eat are the same ones his Great-Great-Grandmother ate and that we observe the same holidays and mitzvot!
And then there was the doll.
My Grandmother, in her infinite kindness, had Beernut pick the colours of yarn that she used to knit a little dress and hat for the doll. Darling doll…but it did not in any way resemble what her mother would have worn in Kalusz. God, in His Infinite Wisdom, got involved…and that doll was misplaced. We turned the house upside down, but it was nowhere to be found.
In middle school, we had to take a trimester of Home Ec. in 6th grade and trimester in 7th grade. However, the year that the school opened, I was in the 7th grade so I was exempt from that requirement. Which was unfortunate given that 6th grade was the sewing trimester and that would have come in handy on many occasions. [Of course, taking the cooking trimester in 7th grade didn’t seem to take, much to PC’s chagrin.]
Yesterday, though I was supposed to be in bed, I ventured out to the craft store to find supplies to make the doll. Got the clothespin — actually a whole package so if you need a clothespin, let me know — and then walked the aisle looking inspiration. We had learned from the ship’s manifest (thank you, Ellis Island!)that Gussie had blonde hair. Yarn didn’t really look right, but embroidery thread did. I found some scrap fabric in colours that seemed right. Except that I don’t sew… Ah! HGTV. I remembered seeing an episode of Designed to Sell that talked about a type of adhesive tap that could be used to hem curtains. Why not use it for the doll’s clothes?
The result? See for yourself…
Lesson Learned?
Why did I not just stay in bed?
I mean, the doctor told me to stay in bed and I wanted to listen to her. I really did.
Beernut has a major project due on Wednesday and I needed to get a few things in advance of his return from school this afternoon.
“But no!” I reasoned, “I must stay in bed.”
And I redoubled my determination not to surrender to Mommy-Guilt. The Mommy-Guilt chiding me to do right by my kid and make certain we had all the supplies in the house so that Beernut could finish his project.
It would have worked except that one of the errands was to get AAA batteries for the wireless keyboard AND mouse. Both of which went dead this weekend.
“I’ll just go gas up the minivan (which was close to empty) and while I am at the gas station, I’ll get some batteries. That’s not really an errand,” I reasoned.
Good plan.
Got to the gas station and while the tank was being filled, I stepped into the Mini-Mart. 2 batteries for 0.59. 4 packages(8 batteries total) = 2.36. Just then, a well-intentioned fellow shopper interrupted, “Ya know, Big Lots! has a huge bin of batteries.”. For reasons I don’t quite understand, I ignored my intuition and put the batteries back on the shelf.
Found the batteries at Big Lots!
1. Not the brand I wanted.
2. 4 batteries for 1.90.
3. Which means 2 packages (8 batteries total) = 3.80.
4. Which makes a loss of 1.44 by taking the well-meaning advice of a stranger.
5. Not to mention the additional 34 minutes I wasted on line @ the store.
Silver lining? Somewhere in SoCal is a gentleman who believes he helped a neighbour. Who am I to diminish his mitzvah???
Baruch Dayan HaEmet
Blessed is the Judge of Truth.
Since Talmudic times, this has been the appropriate response upon learning of the death of an individual. It is said without mention of God’s Name or Sovereignty…but we all know Who the Judge is.
It is a counterintuitive reaction. In loss, we want to point blame. We want to rail against the unfairness. Or to scream as a way of filling the silence. And yet our Tradition instructs us to bless the very One who gives (and takes) life.
When the horrific news finally came yesterday, I recited these words. And immediately thought of the now two year old son of the slain rabbi and his rebbetzin. And that is when the words truly made sense.
(For more thoughts on this tragedy, go to Here in HP, a Highland Park, New Jersey Blog.)
The Third Wheel
The air was just a little crisp. I was wearing my brand new forest green sweater from Express. I had been saving it for something special and something had finally come up — a date! Sort-of.
I don’t exactly remember why PC was taking my 7 1/2 year old brother, Ace, to the movies. All I know is that I HAD to wrangle an invite. We made an interesting trio. Ace sat in the middle, of course. The movie? The Land Before Time.
PC drove us home and then asked me if I wanted to go out with him and a group of his friends. We went to Silky Sullivan’s. It remains to this day the only time I have ever been to Silky Sullivan’s. I was so nervous. I was underage. Waaaaaay underage. In order to appear mature, as well as avoid raising any suspicion, I ordered a Perrier. Of course, I don’t drink sparkling water. Never liked it. But I forced it down, managing to appear calm, cool, and collected. Or so I hoped.
On the way back, one of PC’s friends asked how long we’d been going out. I didn’t even pay him to ask that! PC mumbled something completely unintelligible.
And by the next day, we were officially “going out.”
That first date was 20 years ago tonight. Thanks, Ace, for letting me tag along!
One Small Act
I have a notebook from my first year in rabbinical school that I used to jot down ideas, thoughts, etc. Things that I hoped would help me in my rabbinate. Every day, I am reminded of this thought I wrote down during my first week at in Jerusalem:
Everyone has a story. It’s my job to help it get heard.
Social media is the way in which stories get transmitted beyond one’s small circle of influence and some organizations are paving the way in which the internet can affect positive change in the lives of individuals.
Epic Change is one of those sites. Using the microblogging site, Twitter, Epic Change has set the goal of raising 100K in just 48 hours which will help build a classroom at a school in Tanzania. To participate in Tweetsgiving, click here. To learn more about the Shepherds Junior School in Arusha, Tanzania, click here.
As you sit around the table this Thanksgiving, may the many blessings in your life motivate you to g’milut chassadim (acts of lovingkindness) towards those less fortunate. A small donation on your part can make the world of difference to Mama Lucy’s kids.
Shul: It Does a Body Good!
At least if you are a woman.
According to a recent study by the Albert Einstein College of Medicine:
regular attendance at religious services reduces the risk of death by approximately 20 percent.
The study subjects were women but I would have to think that synagogue attendance would have a similarly positive effect on men as well.
And, by the way, this isn’t about prayer. The study isn’t saying that going out into your backyard and praying alone has a positive effect on one’s health. This study confirms what we (Jews) have known all along — it’s about community! You’ve got to pray in community. A minyan. Ten Jewish adults = prayer quorum.
So do your body good — and make Shabbos services part of your routine.
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Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
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Thank you for your understanding...and gut Shabbos!!! 
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