LOOK! UP IN THE SKY...

...it's a plane.

Indeed it is.

I love walking in the neighborhood very late at night with Max, our "three-poo," and looking up at the night sky. It's dark, but as we live in the suburbs, we can actually see stars, instead of a mulitude of high voltaged lights. (contrary to Toronto's downtown business core)

One of the neatest things I love to see is an airplane cross the sky, his headlights on as he skims the inky dark. Those headlights/high beams cut swaths of brightness across its clear or cloudy path, just as a car does while driving on a lonely stretch of road.

Truly a sight to behold...

When I Grow Up I Want to Be...

We live in a modern, technological world. We witness advancements and progress on a daily basis.

People have different ambitions today than they might have had...say...40 years ago -- simply because the influences of media and education and society are different.

I don't believe that the ambition I'm about to share with you would have been on my "To Do" list 20 years ago. In fact, it might not have even been there a year or two ago. But it's somewhere near the top of the list these days. I don't imagine I'll actually fulfill that ambition simply because I don't tend to be a trendsetter or a leader; I'm a follower but still a doer.

Here's the wishful thinking ambition:

You know how you open up your emails on a daily basis and get jokes/videos/links to websites constantly being forwarded to you. You might get repeats of these emails from several friends and co-workers because these emails are making the rounds of the Internet.

Well, I want to write something or find something that's so attractive, so appealing, so interesting or so poignant or amusing, that I WILL START the ball rolling on a particular email. It will ORIGINATE from me and circle the globe through the forces of the Internet. It would sort of be similar to Norman Rockwell's "Gossip" -- I start off the email and eventually it finds its way back to me.

Hey, who knows...maybe it's this post that will have its fifteen minutes [or emails!] in the spotlight...!

Head Count

...so this is how the past few weeks have been.

Erev Yom Kippur -- I went to a funeral for the husband of a woman I used to work with. The family was able to sit shiva for 1 hour.

Erev Sukkot -- my husband went to a funeral of a close friend of ours. The family was able to sit shiva for 1 hour.

Chol Hamoed Sukkot Sunday -- my husband and I went to a funeral for a shul member. The family was somewhat in limbo for several days. The shiva begins tonight, motzei Shabbos. This afternoon, a friend and I went to deliver a seudat shlishit meal for the family.

Tomorrow, Sunday -- my husband and I will go to a funeral for the mother of a shul member, who is also our friend. His family was at our home this past Thursday for lunch, but our friend wasn't; after shul he walked for over two hours to get to the hospital where his mother had been taken by ambulance just before Yom Tov began on Wednesday night. He came home late on Thursday night; his mother was in intensive care. Yesterday morning, he and his wife walked to the hospital to be with his mother. Last night his mother passed away.
Today when I went to the other family who is waiting for the official shiva to begin, our friend who'd just lost his mother last night was also there to visit. It would be his only time because tomorrow, shiva will start to be observed by his family.

To say it mildly, it has been one hell of a tough couple of weeks. Yes, we've started a New Year and the famous "Who shall live and who shall die" has been presented to us. Let us hope for a better year and a better new month, which will start toward week's end.

Shavuah tov.

I Came, I Davened, I Ate...

...just about sums up the chagim/holidays for me.

[by the way, I have to try to recreate this post, as it got zapped before it could get published. GRRRRR!!!!]

"Food, glorious food" seemed to be the base line of the holidays. Guesting, hosting and feasting.

The question is now, do I start that intended diet after Shabbos is out this week? Do I wait for a few more weeks until the few upcoming simchas we have on our social calendar have come and gone?

Or do I just eat...and enjoy? With no guilt, no silent reminders that this is worth a few unnecessary calories and that is worth many necessary calories?

...and speaking of guilt....

I'm in the middle of reading a terrific anthology of essays entitled: The Modern Jewish Girl's Guide to Guilt. And yes, food is mentioned in several places...and yes, there is enough to say about food that makes one feel guilty!

I hope you've been enjoying your Yom Tov meals, whether you've cooked them yourself or whether you've partaken of them on others' homes. In case any of you would like to sample TorontoPearl's mediocre cooking and TorontoPearl's husband's amazing cooking (and baking), you are always welcome to join us.

Just do us a favor -- leave your guilt outside the dining room!

Moadim l'simcha and enjoy the rest of Sukkot.

Timing Is Everything

Forty-six years ago, my mother gave birth to a baby girl.

Apparently, that baby came out about three weeks early... I guess, curious to discover the world.

Why, then, is that "baby" no longer early for anything, but always running late, feeling flustered and flurried?

That "baby" should ask Bruce Springsteen, Julio Iglesias, Jason Alexander and Mickey Rooney if they also have trouble with time management. Kublai Kahn, Augustus Caesar, John Coltrane are TOO LATE to answer the question!
********************************

I hope you all had an easy and meaningful fast. May your prayers be heard, may forgiveness be bestowed upon you and may you have a healthy and happy year.

Mi Yichyeh u'Mi Yamut...*

* Who shall live and who shall die...

"These words from the liturgy of the High Holy Days testify to our insecurity. As we grow older, our youthful illusions of invulnerability begin to disappear, and the questions become ever more acute. Perhaps the most difficult transition we make as adults is the first time we catch ourselves saying, “If you have your health, you have everything,”—and we remember how completely uncomprehending we were when we, as teenagers, heard exactly those words from our great aunt, the one who had doilies covering her tables and newspapers on her freshly scrubbed floors."

(from Rabbi Robert L. Wolkoff, http://www.agudath-achim.com/)

Is this first paragraph not true? As young innocents, we don't think truly about the words we are saying, but as we age, we do.

I thought that perhaps I was morbid as I stood at shul over Rosh Hashanah and thought these thoughts. But in hindsight, as I think about all the things that are wrong with our world, all the people I know who are not well, or who have already been touched by grief and sadness in their lives, I think it is only right that I am aware of these words.

I looked around the shul and wondered who would be davening with us next year, who would be missing. Just like looking at a family photo album. Take out your parents' photo albums or look at your own wedding albums, if you're married. Scan the faces. You will see and say to yourself, "This one isn't here anymore; this one died a year after I married; he is in a nursing home." The list goes on.

And unfortunately, next year at shul, you will probably encounter similar losses. Familiar faces will be missing. Some families will be smaller and will need to buy fewer High Holiday tickets.

Perhaps I was most aware of the theme of this post as the kohanim went up on the bimah for "duchenin"; two of those men that were up there, whom I know, have cancer. They have been taking treatments and I believe that one of them has decided to stop his treatments. It shows in his face, in his body and in his wife's eyes as she looks at him.

As those men stood and blessed the congregants, as kohanim have done for centuries, I couldn't help but wonder if these men would be around next year to bless us again.

And moreso I thought that they are blessing us; Hashem should bless them hundredfold with strength and good health.

And how does one wish a true "refuah shlema" on someone who is so ill? Do you? Can you? Or do you wish them strength, as I do?

It is my fervent hope that we will all be inscribed in the Book of Life for the coming year; that strength, and hope, and prayer, and tradition will be part of those pages of our own Book of Life.

Gmar chatimah tovah.

Out with the Old, In with the New

As I stand on the threshhold of a new Jewish year, I stop to take stock.

I review so I can see what I've learned this past year...if anything.

I review so I can see what my next step should be.

I review so I can appreciate what I have -- and what I still have.

It has certainly been a year filled with emotional strife as I've dealt with family members with ill health and lengthy and several hospitalizations. Each of those hospitalizations also had me review the past and hope and pray for a better future.

As I do now...for my family, for your families and for all of Klal Yisroel.

May you be surrounded by those near and dear to you...whether in person or whether in memory.

May the road of life you travel down this coming year be smooth, with no sharp turns or major detours.

May the wishes you seek for yourself become reality.

May good health be your best friend.

May laughter, not tears, prevail in your life.

To all of you: SHANAH TOVAH U'METUKA. A sweet happy New Year.

Forever Young

Talk amongst yourselves... Then you can shout out your answers.

If you could be immortalized in any creative form, by someone living or dead, what form would it take and who would create it?

1. I would opt for a caricature done by Al Hirschfeld. He was a brilliant artist whose drawings I looked forward to seeing in the NY Times and elsewhere. It's interesting to watch any caricature artist at work, especially someone as talented as Hirschfeld was.

How would he depict me? Would he make my nose big? My lips big? My freckles big?

2. Also in the realm of caricature art, I would pick Norman Mingo to duplicate me.

Who the heck is Norman Mingo, you ask? Just think of Alfred E. Neuman...MAD Magazine...cover art. Also a brilliant, detailed artist who made his MAD Magazine cover people come alive.

(revelation: I didn't know his name either. I had to GOOGLE "Mad Magazine Cover Art" to find the guy whose design style I enjoyed.)

3. And last but not least, I would like James Taylor ("Sweet Baby James") to write an original, wholesome, mellow but catchy tune about Pearl.

YOUR TURN..................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Forerunner to the State of Israel Bonds Pledge Drive?

There's a new children's book out and it features some interesting historical facts intertwined with the story.

"Myths and stories have gathered around Salomon, a slender Jewish immigrant from Poland. The stories have help up because they are good, if not entirely true." She goes onto add that while the book is "based primarily" on authoritative historical sources, "Most of my dialogue and dramatic scenes… are my contribution to engage young readers in the story." So where does the history begin and the dramatic reenactment end? Very hard to tell. Check out the scene in which Rubin tells us about the relationship between Robert Morris, a Philadelphia businessman whom George Washington appointed the minister of finance during the War, and Salomon.

The story goes that on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, Haym was attending services at [Temple] Mikveh Israel. A messenger came in and asked for him. "Robert Morris sent me," the messenger said to Haym. "He needs you to sell two bills of exchange for twenty thousand dollars."Members of the congregation gasped. "For shame!" They were shocked to hear talk about money on the holiest day of the year for Jews. Haym, however, knew that at no other time would he have so many people gathered at once. He asked the rabbi for permission to speak. "Let us all help General Washington," he said. Within a few minutes, Haym raised all the necessary money, including three thousand dollars of his own.

Fact ... or fiction?

Which came first -- this scene or the Israel Bonds Pledge Drive every Yom Kippur?

Name That Spouse!

I've mentioned many times throughout blogging that I have these little neuroses/hang-ups/idiocyncracies/"jewkim barosh". Here's another one to note on that list.

I was probably twenty-one or twenty-two when a friend got married; she was my first peer to do so. Before she married, she'd talk about her fiance as "Alan this, Alan that." After she married, it was no longer, "Alan this, Alan that." It was "My husband this, my husband that."

That's when my hackles first rose.

"What??!! I know his name. Why do you have to refer to him as "my husband" all the time?" I never said this aloud to her; I just figured she was in that honeymoon stage and liked the sound of "my husband."

But she wasn't the only one who'd be so formal.

I discovered my aunt would talk about "my daughter-in-law." Now, Sara is the ONLY daughter-in-law my aunt has; why didn't she address her by name? Why did she appear to distance herself with such a generic tag?

My cousin, Sara's husband, mostly talked about Sara, but sometimes did refer to her as "my wife."

When my brother-in-law got married, he constantly talked about "my wife". Granted, he was older when he married, she was on her second marriage, so each was happy to have found the other. Did he have her on such a pedestal?

I did not like the sound of "my wife" all the time; it sounded as if he were talking about a possession, something materialistic. If I wouldn't have known her, that's something else. But I know her and I know her name...so use it!

After witnessing him and my cousin refer to "my wife," I began to wonder if it's a Yeshivish etiquette thing that nobody had told me about. Is it a means to give kavod/honor to one's spouse...or is it just a possessive kind of thing?

Moreso, why did/does this bother me so much? I wonder.

If I ever use "my husband" in conversation, it's: 1. to someone who doesn't know him at all or 2. if I use the expression, I'll follow it with my husband's name, as an identifier or 3. i'll be cheeky to a friend in conversation and say it with great cynicism and emphasis if he's done something to irritate me.

But my husband has a name, and I make sure to use it.

I know other frum couples where the husbands refer to "my wife" and the wives refer to their husbands by name.

(it's funny, but I don't have the same problem when someone refers to "my son" or "my daughter.")

If there are any Yeshivish-type readers out there (Chaim? Ezzie? Elie?), please do tell me if there is some kind of unwritten rule among the more frum that you give one's spouse -- specifically the wife, the "eshet chayil" more honor by referring to them by their "title" rather than by "name".

My husband knows how I feel about this topic and wouldn't dare refer to me as "my wife" unless he added "Pearl" to the mix. That's why I love this guy; he respects me and my wishes.

See, people? "My husband"...Mr. TorontoPearl" ... earns respect and shows it too -- doing so on a first-name basis!

And Now A Word from Our Sponsor

"....and last but not least, here's helpful hint # 99:

When you wear eyeglasses that have protective coating on the plastic lenses, never, NEVER open the oven door and stick your head closer to remove some hot food. That GUST of hot air has a way of damaging that eyeglass coating and eventually you see these very fine spider lines on the lenses of your glasses.

It happened to my husband and his optician explained the fine "spider veins" to him.

My husband warned me.

Wouldn't you know it! I put my head in the oven...once...another time...and another time.

My eyeglasses are new, and maybe only a month old. They are already damaged...showing very fine lines...perhaps like this 45-soon-to-be-46-year-old skin of mine!

By the way, my eyeglasses were ordered online by a Winnipeg optician; the sample frames were sent to me in Toronto. The frames came from Denmark, and the sunglass lenses came from Quebec. I'm wearing an international pair of eyeglasses.

See this link. My glasses are the exact ones shown in this post -- Model 1641, collection 5132.

I guess if I keep sticking my head in a hot oven, I will have to begin "reading between the LINES!"

"WE'RE CLOSED!!!"

After my last post, I went grocery shopping.

I have a tendency to go late at night, within the last hour that the supermarket is open, and I like to "close up the place." ie. be one of the last, if not THE LAST, customer. Maybe it's a subconscious power thing:

"You can't close up the store until I'm all done... You can't start to count what's in your till until you've finished with me."

There are two supermarkets nearby with a large Kosher selection of just about everything. I often go first to one, and then to the other. On Thursday nights, I luck out because one of them closes at 10 p.m. but the other closes at 11 p.m. Often I see the same people I saw shop in the first store then shop in the second store...like me.

Tonight I went to the first store, which closes at 10 p.m. and then I headed to the second store, which closes at 10 p.m. But I had about a 20-minute window to get what I needed at the second store, so off I rushed.

I was NOT the last customer, but it was about 10:07 p.m. when I was at the checkout.

As I left the store, there were two employees just outside the front doors. I said good night to them, figuring they would lock the doors after the last customer left and then go back inside to deal with the closing procedures.

I was already at my car nearby when I heard in a booming voice: "WE'RE CLOSED!!!"

I didn't look back, but figured that someone thought they might just manage to get in and attempted to do so, only to be met by the "door police." It then hit me in a funny way that these store employees were actually serving as bouncers.

And then I realized that most stores, primarily Jewish ones where customers like to bargain, sweet=talk, insist, DEMAND, rant, and KNOW BEST, could stand to use bouncers like these men. Guards. De-motivators.

I can picture a couple of burly, musclemen, with stubble on their faces, staring down a little old Jewish lady with a shopping cart.

"No, the store is closed... No, you can't just check one more thing... No, the manager has already left... No, you can't park yourself here till morning; come back at 9:30 when the store re-opens."

Before going grocery shopping, I was in another department store, looking for a gift. Over the loudspeaker, I heard, "The time is 8:45; Winners will be closing in 15 minutes. .." "The time is 8:55. Winners will be closing in 5 minutes. Kindly bring all your purchases to the cash.... "The time is 9:00. Customer service is closed. Please bring all purchases to the cash. The store will re-open at 9:30 tomorrow."

Now, wouldn't you think that after listening to that series of announcements over a 15-minute time span that I would get the hint and get my butt over to a cashier with the gift I'd found to buy?

Nah...I'm at the far side of the store, but scanning over the aisles to see if any cash registers are free.

No such luck. There are lineups at each cashier's counter.

So I continue to browse in the housewares.

"I'm sorry...it's 9:00. This section is closed. The store is closing, " is what a store clerk greets me with.

So you think I'd take a hint then?

Nah... "I know, but there are lineups at the cash anyway," I explain -- and continue to browse. I see that I am not the only customer in that section seeking some last minute purchases. I even think that to myself, "Hey, if you [Winners]throw me out, you might lose out on some customer cash. Maybe I'll find something else to buy in the last minute..."

I guess that all stores where I shop might also stand to use the services of a good bouncer to...put me in place...OUTSIDE THE STORE!

From the Sidelines, aka Some Observations....

I'm still here on the periphery of the blogging world, checking in with many or most of the blogs on my blogroll. I might be negligent about doing so equally or regularly, and I apologize for that.

Even if I don't visit often -- and post even less -- I still have a soft spot for you all, and admittedly some bloggers more than others.

Danny never ceases to amaze me with his entertainment knowledge and his journey through family history and family photos.
Neil, the funny rabbi, is always so eclectic and enlightened in his writing.
Neil, the funny non-rabbi, continually makes me smile with his wonderful wacky world and words. HE IS ADORED BY MANY, IT SEEMS.
Oriyenta brings her daughter's life -- and her own life -- to life for us.
Old Old Lady of the Hills captures spectacular photos and wonderful stories of the natural world around her...both in the Hollywood Hills and outside them.
Fancy Maven is anxious...and funny...and pretty blunt.
Shalom from Jerusalem is simply a wonderful and warm and down-to-earth person who welcomes everyone into her blog, as if it were her home.
{Cruisin' Mom...we miss you!}

Last week I ran into a professor, who was also a fairly well-known blogger in the Jewish blogging world. I asked if he's still partaking in blogs and in the conversation he said that he thought blogging, especially in the Jewish blogosphere, is not as popular as it was a couple of years ago. He thinks it peaked after a couple of years and then slowly, people pulled out.

I believe it's true, although there are always some new people jumping aboard to replace the old people.

The blog is not as "essential" to my life as it truly was between late 2004 and early 2006. I don't spend as much time or effort on my own blog. In Hebrew, I'd say that the "cheshek"/desire isn't there; in fact, it's been lost.

But I can't pull myself away completely. The blog -- mine and reading others -- has continually been a source of inspiration, emotional strength, interest, etc. I can't just go "cold turkey."

If you've been blogging for more than a year already, do you feel strengthened by your blog? Do you think your blog has developed into "a crutch" of sorts? ( mine had been one for quite some time. I'm pleased to say it no longer is.) Has your blog evolved in any way?

When I think of something to blog about, it's usually lately about my weaknesses, my fears, my flaws...and I wonder why I feel I need to share those with you. Do I have to air my laundry, just so you can gather up that laundry, fold it for me and put it in its place?

Maybe I've outgrown my blog in some ways--the dimished posts and visitors prove that--but I certainly haven't outgrown yours. So do keep writing, and I'll continue to read, and comment if moved enough.

Ten...

My middle child, Adina, celebrates her tenth birthday today. Her Hebrew birthday was on Shabbos Nachamu.

Everyone always says truthfully, "Where did the years fly?"

As I wrote her a birthday card message today, I reread my words. They sounded more appropriate for her birthday card for when she'd turn 12, bat mitzvah age. I talked about her father and I being proud of the young lady that she's proving to be, and I thought that even though "10" is not really yet equated with a "young lady," it was certainly appropriate for Adina.

She is feisty, she is loving, she is creative, she is sensitive. Simply, she is adored.

"Adina": noble, gentle, delicate.

A perfect name for an "almost-perfect"...young lady!

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!

(Adina is my kind of girl; she read the birthday card I gave her BEFORE she opened her present!)

Keeping a Low Profile

Are you taking attendance? Have I been missing blog class?

I'm still around, just without any blog posts due to several reasons:

1. I'm now back in the workforce (since mid last week), have no access to personal use of the computer during the daytime and am pretty wiped by the time I get home (I've forgotten what that's like, with commuting and dealing with the family afterwards). Am learning many new things on the job and find it a bit overwhelming in these early days. Thus "brain drain" takes hold of me. Thus...
2. I can't think of too much to write about
3. My dad just came home on Friday after another 10-day "sojourn" in the hospital -- 10 days in July, 10 days in August. Needless to say, I was busy with that.
4. Dealing with the kids and their camp pick-up and drop-off schedules have kept me busy
5. Editing shul bulletins for the High Holidays
6. Volunteering and helping with suggestions for children's/YA book selections for the upcoming Toronto Jewish Book Fair
7. A couple of weddings to attend

So I guess you can see that I'm pretty busy with...LIFE.

But when the muse hits -- hopefully soon enough -- I'll be typing away and hitting PUBLISH !

Leave the Porch Light Burning

Just as I've always had a "thing" for the Ner Tamid (Eternal Light found in every synagogue ), I've always had a "thing" for a porch light. Not just any porch light, really but one that's on -- a beacon in the dark. If it has a yellow bulb or yellow glass encasing the bulb, even better.

I've always felt that the yellow bulb is warmer and more welcoming.

I know my neighborhood rather well, thanks to being a dog owner who has to become a dog walker. As I pass each home, I determine if they appear to be welcoming. Sadly enough, no.

So many of the homes in the area do not even leave on outside lights, much less yellow-coated lights. They appear to be cold-looking, giving a "leave me alone and stay away from me" attitude with the lack of illumination.

There are homes that might not have a porch light on, but they have statuesque coach lights lining their walkway, beckoning the way to the front door with their bright, white light. Other houses have some feeble lighting lining their bushes and driveways, relying on the light of the sun to light up the way.

Other homes have glaring spotlights poking up from beneath bushes and greenery enhancing their front yards. Sometimes these spotlights are colorful with red, green or yellow hints of color to guide visitors to the front door.

Conservation of energy -- is that what keeps people from keeping their outside lights on? Or is it simply that if they don't illuminate the exterior of their homes, nobody will bother them after dark?

A Blur

The woman...she sat across from me in the medical center's waiting room.

I noticed...her jewelery, her tan, her shoes and then her arm.

Were those bruises? Was it dirt?

And then it hit me -- a number embedded on her delicate, tanned skin.

Embedded on the outside of the arm...for all to see.

Numbers -- not so legible, but never truly fading.

A blur.

A memory, in fact a nightmare of something too difficult to comprehend.

My heart clenched.

My heart clenches each time it sees one of these numbers, one of these blurs.

Those times are becoming much more infrequent.

She passed close by and asked me a question. I answered, then grasped her arm and told her how I was taken aback...by that number. I told her I hadn't been sure it was a number--

I was used to numbers on the inside of an arm, more hidden.

I told her it seemed like a blur.

I asked her where she'd been.

"Where everyone was -- Auschwitz."

"You must've been young."

"I was. But I lived through it and I went on with my life."

"Thank G-d for that," I told her.

That number. A blur to me. Certainly not a blur to her.

Scenes from a Marriage (TorontoPearl-Style)

My husband, who started a new job in January, is working like a dog, learning his way around this job and staying on his toes. He didn't want to totally neglect his family, so he booked off a couple of days this summer, days to tack on to an upcoming long weekend.

He booked off this coming Friday and next Tuesday...which we thought was great. The only thing is that my kids have camp on Friday and camp on Tuesday, and my oldest son's camp will have an outing to a Blue Jays baseball game on Sunday as well as a great outing on Monday, and my son doesn't want to miss either day.

What to do...?

"That's okay, honey. So we'll do something on Friday while the kids are at camp," says Pearl.

"CAN WE GO TO HOME DEPOT...? AND WAL-MART...?" says Mr. TorontoPearl.

I laughed, telling him that this excerpt was certainly worthy of a blog post.

Jewish Lego Wedding

A Lego Film: A Brilliant and Very Unique Anniversary Present

And Now You Know

My daughter and I spent Shabbos -- Shabbos Nachamu-- at my parents. It was my daughter's Hebrew birthday (ten years ago, I was a bit busy for the last half hour of Shabbos Nachamu!) and I didn't want my parents to be alone. My husband and sons managed fine on their own.

Being Shabbos Nachamu, we truly relaxed, read, talked, played games, looked at photo albums and just lazed around.

As we were sitting around, my mother read aloud an excerpt from a book I'd given her -- Solomon Gursky Was Here by Mordecai Richler. The excerpt had to do with the origins of the word "kike." This is a derogatory word used to mean "Jew"-- although I knew that, I never stopped to think about its origins.

I just GOOGLED several sites to see if what she'd read aloud was, in fact, true. Yes... And now you too will know where the term KIKE comes from. [Don't say that my blog never taught you anything.]

WHAT IS THE ORIGIN OF THE WORD "KIKE"?

There are many explanations:

* One explanation is that the word kike originates from the word "keikl", in Yiddish, which means "circle". At Ellis Island, one of the main immigration check in points, immigrants were intially grouped by religion and language in order to make it easier for them to communicate with each other and also to be identified more quickly by waiting relatives there to meet them. Christians were marked off with an 'X' which was likely really supposed to be a cross; Jews were marked with a circle which was really likely supposed to be the Star of David. It is easy to see how the staff could become sloppy at drawing these symbols as 'x' and 'o'. The word "keikl" was used by the Jews making fun of the poorly drawn star; they referred to each other as being 'circles'.

Unfortunately, from this innocent usage, the term aquired a derogatory meaning.

Robert L. Chapman's "American Slang" has a slight variation on the above. Rather than saying the circle was a mark made by the staff to symbolize the Star-of-David, the book says: "Jews who could not sign their names would make a circle." This suggests that it was Jews themselves who started using the circle- presumably to avoid the X which was reminiscent of a cross.

* According to "Our Crowd", by Stephen Birmingham, the term kike was actually coined as a putdown by assimilated American German Jews for their Eastrern-European bretheren: "Because many Russian [Jewish] names ended in 'ki', they were called 'kikes'- a German Jewish contribution to the American vernacular. (Germans are also said to have invented the term "Bohunk", referring to Jews from Bohemia.)". Following this explanation, the name kike was deliberately coined to put-down Jews- but only a certain subset of Jews. The name then proceeded to be co-opted by Gentiles and used against all Jews in general.

* Robert L. Chapman's "American Slang" also notes that the word could be a reference to "Ike", a nickname for Isaac.