Sounds of Silence

I took my daughter this afternoon to see MAMA MIA, the sing-along version. She'd already seen the plain MAMA MIA about 5 weeks ago and I'd seen the stage version about 10 years ago.

It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon on the last day of a long weekend, but I still thought the theater might be crowded, as the sing-along version came out on Friday. We got there when the box office opened and eventually found our way into the theater.

Including us, there was a total of about 10 people in the theater, and I believe that all of them were women.

When the lyrics came onto the screen whenever a ABBA song came on, do you think that ANYBODY sang along? If so, they were using sign language in the dark, 'cause I sure heard no voices!

Were people afraid to sing because of the small number of people sitting in the darkened theater? Would it have been more inviting to sing if there had been a capacity seating and one's voice could've been drowned out among hundreds of others?

I have no problems singing, and I know I have a good voice, but the couple of times I alone opened my mouth to sing -- even quietly -- my daughter did not want to hear of it! She was embarrassed because I would've been the only one singing.

Truth be told, I was somewhat disappointed not to hear voices belting out out "S.O.S." or "Mama Mia" or "Voulez Vous". It was not a sing-along version of the movie I was at, but probably more of a quiet hum-along.

When the character on-screen was singing, "I Have a Dream," I guess that nobody in the audience took into account the lyrics, " I have a dream, a song to sing..."

Take a Moment...

...to smell the roses.

You don't necessarily have to stop to do so, but you can slow down, open your mind and senses to what you are seeing, what you are smelling...

I Have the Power...

...to make you all nod your heads -- in unison -- in agreement.

Don't you hate it when you hide something practical/necessary/personal/important in a "safe place" and that place becomes soooooooooooooo safe, you can't find it anymore?!

Yup, me too.

Hey, Can Someone Get My Friend Over Here a Cloud with a Silver Lining?

Some people have tzuris. And then there are some people who have T.Z.U.R.I.S.!

As is said in Jewish circles: "You shouldn't know from these things..."

Someone I know lost her father -- who was ill -- last October.

She lost her youngest brother -- who died suddenly, in his sleep -- this past May. She got up from shiva on a Thursday, had her eldest son's aufruf on Shabbos and his wedding the following Tuesday.

She lost her oldest brother -- who was ill -- today. That brother was buried today...on her birthday.

She lost an uncle in May. She lost her mother-in-law in June.

Can you imagine her poor mother, burying her husband, her eldest son and her youngest son within 10 months of each other? A family of five children has quickly dwindled down to three children. A family of three sons has become a family of one son.

Their mezuzot klafs have all been checked, but this family certainly needs a good turn, a silver -lined cloud to replace the dark one that's been hovering over their family for some time. May Hashem look down on them, decide they've suffered plenty and send some beautiful brachot their way...

Oh, No! Not Again...

Remember this blog post of mine? An updated version of "Home Alone"?

Now check this out from www.theyeshivaworld.com:

Israel: Family Forgets a Child in Yarden Park

August 20, 2008

A chareidi family enjoying the ‘ben Hazmanim’ vacation forgot their 3-year-old child in Yarden Park, traveling from there to a Tiveria Hotel on Monday afternoon.

The parents and their five children, residents of the chareidi community of Tel Tzion in the Benjamin Regional Council district in Shomron, forgot the youngest child for reasons that remain unclear.

A passerby noticed the small child crying and stopped to comfort him. He summoned police after he learned the child’s parents left the area without him. The parents realized he was missing about two hours after leaving the park.

The parents came to the police station and identified their son, permitting a happy reunion. The father was questioned by police ‘under warning’ and he/they will likely face criminal charges.

So what is up with these people I've blogged about? One child too many? Outta sight, outta mind?

Get with the program, people. You're parents; you're supposed to be the responsible adults here. Take a head count if you have to; take attendance and everyone say "here" or "poh." Have your children microchipped if necessary!

If it's too overwhelming to take your several children to public places, stay home with them. Keep them in your viewfinder at all times.

It's not fun to make international news and have fingers -- and blogs -- pointed in your direction, now is it?

"No Sing-Sing"

(taken from The Daily Telegraph)

Silvio Berlusconi has banned Mafia bosses from singing in jails

Godfathers and their foot soldiers have been allowed to rule the roost in Italy's jails, giving orders from their cells, as well as enjoying home comforts such as TV, gym and conjugal visits.

But now Silvio Berlusconi's new centre-Right government has toughened up regulations governing the treatment of convicted crime bosses. As part of sweeping new measures against crime, the justice minister Angelino Alfano has banned inmates from singing and socialising with fellow mobsters.

Informers have told prison officials that inmates have passed on messages and orders in song. Inmates have been singing messages to each other in their native dialects such as Sicilian, Neapolitan or Pugliese which were incomprehensible to prison warders.

The majority of mafiosi are in jails in northern Italy in a bid to keep them away from their native south.

Other measures include removing previously generous privileges and also keeping mobsters in their cells for 23 hours a day and allowing them only an hour of open air exercise.

Visits from family, friends and lawyers have also been dramatically reduced in the ten prisons that house 570 convicted mobsters deemed dangerous and a threat to society.

Mr Alfano said: ''We are toughening up the rules and coming down hard on the Mafia even when they are in jail. They will not be allowed to socialise and they will not be allowed to sing.

"We have evidence that in the past orders and messages were passed on and we have also stopped them mixing with each other as well. They will spend the majority of their day alone in their cells.''

The rules will apply to convicted Godfathers such as Toto Riina and Bernardo Provenzano, both serving life sentences.

However one privilege that is not being denied them is the opportunity to join the ice cream making classes at Opera prison in Milan.

Hmmm... I'm beginning to wonder if Italian opera/operettas also hold hidden messages.

And ice cream making classes? Imagine the mafioso who ordered hits on a dozen men, watched as their bullet-ridden, blood-splattered bodies were dumped in rivers and ravines, is sentenced to life in prison, saying "Yay...spumoni here I come!"

A Book Recommendation

The Last Album: Eyes from the Ashes of Auschwitz-Birkenau by Ann Weiss.


I spotted this book in the public library the other night, sat there and began to read its commentaries and look at the countless photos within its pages.

This book is a "matzevah"/monument/headstone to all those people in the photos who did not survive Auschwitz-Birkenau, other death camps and the horrible plight of World War 2.

The author spent several years, dealing with red tape of Polish bureaucracy, in order to salvage those photos and compile this living memorial to the faces.

A beautiful book. Seek it out.

#1 Son Is Coming Home Tomorrow

After six weeks away, and two letters home, our #1 son will be coming home tomorrow from his first-time experience at overnight camp.

I believe that two letters in six weeks say it all: Avi was too busy having fun to write.

(mind you, he was home a couple weeks ago for Shabbat, having come back for a friend's bar mitzvah, so we got a bit of the low-down then...and both letters came in those early weeks of camp.)

Not only did Avi only write a couple of times, he didn't show up too much in camp photos -- I couldn't help but wonder if he was, in fact, a camper at Moshava this summer... But the proof is in this nice photo just above. Enjoy...

I'll Take 10 %!

...spotted on the YidVid blog:

Montreal: A Belzer chasid won 28,000,000 dollars in the national 649 Lottery, that is 280,000 dollars for Tzedaka.

1. Why is a Belzer chassid buying lottery tickets?

2. Who made the assumption that the chassid will, in fact, follow through and give 10% to tzedaka?

3. Where was this advertised? Usually large prize lottery winners go to the headquarters and have their pics taken, while they hold up an oversized check showing the amount of their winnings. Did this individual agree to that, to be publicly photographed so that all the media -- and Jewish organizations, gemachs, agencies, schools, shuls -- will be notified of this big winner? That way they'll all know who to come and call on!

Look Who's Back in Town!

When I was preparing my son for his first stay at sleepover camp for six weeks, I started to collect snacks to send with him. I wanted to make sure all the snacks were non=perishable and parve.

Avi had a simple request: Tam-Tams.

I went to one supermarket -- no Tam-Tams. I went to another supermarket -- no Tam-Tams there either.

Where did they go? Were they so popular post-Pesach, that people had snatched them up, clearing the shelves in the Kosher aisles of supermarkets?

I finally managed to find a clerk in an aisle to ask and was told that the distributor hadn't delivered them in several weeks, that there was some type of problem.

Aha! Now I know what the problem was...

Tam-Tams...it's great to see you back. Make sure you stick around awhile, okay?

Manischewitz(R) Tam Tam(R) Crackers Are Back!

SECAUCUS, N.J., Aug 07, 2008 /PRNewswire via COMTEX/ -- Where Are the Tam Tam Crackers? Manischewitz(R) the leader in quality specialty foods, announces that the popular great tasting snack cracker that has been a mainstay in households across America for over 65 years, will return to local supermarkets starting this week!

Tastier than ever, Tam Tams are available in 8 ounce boxes in such delicious flavors including Original, Garlic, Everything, Whole Grain Garden, Herb, Lightly Salted and No-Salt. They are great with your favorite spread or right from the box.

"With the opening of our new plant and ovens in Newark, New Jersey, operations needed to shut down for a short period of time to install the upgraded and state-of-the-art new matzo and cracker ovens," said David Rossi, VP, Marketing, R.A.B. Food Group. "We are grateful for our consumer support during this time and are proud to say that the Tam Tams you know and love are back and better than ever."

R.A.B. Food Group, LLC is a 120 year old branded food manufacturer including the largest processed kosher food company in North America. It manufactures and markets Manischewitz(R), Rokeach(R), Horowitz Margareten(R), Mishpacha(R), Goodman's(R), Season(R) and Guiltless Gourmet(R) brand products. For more information, visit the company's website, www.rabfoodgroup.com. The company offers a diversified line of premium food products that cover approximately 60 different categories.

The Manischewitz brand was founded in a small bakery built to make Passover matzo in 1888 by Rabbi Dov Behr Manischewitz in Cincinnati, Ohio. In 1932, Rabbi Manischewitz opened a plant in Jersey City, NJ, replacing the operation in Cincinnati. This move paved the way for the introduction of new products like Tam Tam Crackers, Chicken Soup, Chicken Broth and Gefilte Fish. Today, Manischewitz continues to introduce unique, delicious, premium specialty food products such as Brisket & Steak Seasoning and Wasabi Creamy Horseradish sauce.

For more information on Manischewitz products, log onto www.manischewitz.com.

* - Packaged Facts - The U.S. Market for Cookies, August 2004
SOURCE R.A.B. Food Group

Something out of "Home Alone"

A 4.5-year-old girl asked a policeman in Ben-Gurion International Airport “where are my parents,” after realizing she was unable to find them. Police acted promptly and in a short time realized that the parents boarded a flight for Paris with 4 of their 5 children, forgetting their youngest in the airport.
The family, numbering 7 persons, arrived at the airport with 18 pieces of luggage according to Sun Dor Airlines officials, reportedly telling airline employees they are leaving Israel for good.
For reasons that are not known, the family was running late as they made their way to the gate and the gate official passes did not realize that the parents handed them seven boarding passes while only six people got onto the plane. One of the employees of the airport’s duty free shops told police he noticed the little girl wandering around on her own, later realizing she was left behind.
Policeman Ofir Ochaiyon explained the “little girl, a really cute girl, began pulling on my trousers asking, ‘where are my parents?’”
Ofir added it was fortunate that the little girl was extremely intelligent and calm, assisting him in determining exactly what was taking place. “I even offered her ice cream” he explained, “but she responded that her parents told her not to eat anything that does not have a badatz hechsher.” He eventually found her ices with an acceptable hechsher and she gladly accepted the well-intentioned gift.
Sarit Ben-Eden, a policewoman in the airport station explained that the girl provided her with the names of her parents, but she was getting scared and began to cry while waiting in the station. While the announcement of the lost child was aired on the airport’s public address system, no one responded. After Ben-Eden checked with passport control police, she was shocked to learn that her parents and her siblings had already cleared passport control and made their way to their flight to Paris.
Passport Control Chief Inspector Amnon Shmueli contacted Son Dor, requesting flight officials verify if the family was indeed on the flight. To his amazement, the parents and other children had taken off for Paris, forgetting the little girl. It was only some 40 minutes into the flight after the captain called the mother to the front of the plane was she made aware that one of her children was missing.
“The parents were in shock” airline officials report, adding they sat speechless in their seats, unable to understand how such an event was permitted to occur without taking notice.
They parents were informed the girl would be arriving on an El Al flight to Paris two hours later. Upon their arrival in Charles de Gaulle International Airport they immediately went to the El Al area to wait for her. Eventually, they were reunited.
Ben-Gurion International Airport Chief Yigal Shabtai stated that when the parents return to Israel, they will be taken for questioning and they may face charges of endangering a minor. Son Dor explains that the fact that flight personnel did not take notice of the missing passenger was a most unfortunate and extremely rare occurrence.

(Yechiel Spira – YWN Israel)

Your Evening Smile*

Tired and Thirsty

The Italian says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have wine.

The Scot says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have scotch.

The Swede says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have aquavit.

The Russian says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have vodka.

The German says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have beer.

The Greek says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have ouzo.

The Jew says, I'm tired and thirsty. I must have diabetes.

*Although diabetes is now present in my family -- and perhaps in yours -- I still love this joke, and hope that nobody is offended by it.

Sorry, Jamie Lynn Spears...

...I neglected to wish you a mazel tov on your baby daughter, born last month.

The bottom line is that I hadn't known you'd already given birth. Somehow that news item had escaped me.

But today, while reading that you and Mr. Fiance were planning a September "small, backyard wedding," (small...as in three acres) and that you were already down to pre-pregnancy weight, i thought, "Hey, something's not right here. I've been left out of the loop."

So I sought out a birth announcement...and found it in the fact that you sold exclusive "1st baby photo rights" of Maddie to OK! magazine.

Good for you...getting some large lump sum ought to cover the salary you had to forego as Zoey in Zoey 101. After all, you -- nice, little role model to tweener girls -- had gotten knocked up at age 16 (okay, so in April you turned 17) and the show got cancelled after its third season.

And it's so nice you met your man in church; how Christian of you.

Well, happy baby & happy marriage, Jamie. Hope it's everything you ever dreamed of...while you were a little girl and looking up to big sister/role model Britney.

By the way, why didn't you name your daughter Zoey? Just askin'....

Your Morning Smile

Rebecca & Jacob

Jacob, age 92, and Rebecca, age 89, living in Florida , are all excited about their decision to get married. They go for a stroll to discuss the wedding, and on the way they pass a drugstore. Jacob suggests they go in.

Jacob addresses the man behind the counter: "Are you the owner?"

The pharmacist answers, "Yes."

Jacob: "We're about to get married. Do you sell heart medication?"

Pharmacist: "Of course we do."

Jacob: "How about medicine for circulation?"

Pharmacist: "All kinds."

Jacob: "Medicine for rheumatism and scoliosis?"

Pharmacist: "Definitely."

Jacob: "How about Viagra?"

Pharmacist: "Of course."

Jacob: "Medicine for memory problems, arthritis, jaundice?"

Pharmacist: "Yes, a large variety. The works."

Jacob: "What about vitamins, sleeping pills, Geritol, antidotes for Parkinson's disease?"

Pharmacist: "Absolutely."

Jacob: "You sell wheelchairs and walkers?"

Pharmacist: "All speeds and sizes."

Jacob: "Good! We'd like to use this store as our bridal registry."

Sorrow & Simcha: Life's Juxtaposition

You may link to my piece in this week's online edition of New York's Jewish Press. (I will buy a print edition on Friday, its release date.)

It was very minimally edited and thankfully did not lose any of its essence. The one error is in my bio: the link to my blog was typed incorrectly. It should not have had a period after the www -- that link takes you to a single post of mine, written nearly 4 years ago.

I hope you enjoy my writing.


**Update: the link was corrected apparently; thus my first commenter was able to find me okay.
Thank you, Jewish Press, for making the correction.

Four Seasons Lodge

I was perusing an American publication online and discovered this documentary: Four Seasons Lodge.

Taken from a program where it premiered at a film festival in Washington last month:

In 2005, New York Times journalist Andrew Jacobs found a group of Holocaust survivors who, since 1979, have spent their summers together at the Four Seasons Lodge, one of the few remaining bungalow communities hidden in upstate New York’s lush Catskill mountains. Jacobs was so mesmerized by the group that he returned as a filmmaker to document the rich traditions, lifelong friendships, and collective memory of the residents before they disappeared.

Now in their 80s and 90s, the German and Polish Jews of the Four Seasons Lodge are among the few who continue the Catskill summer vacation tradition. Every summer they gather, laughing and bickering like family, recounting unthinkable times through bittersweet tears and finding strength and refuge in each other’s company.

Lodge president Carl patrols the grounds, resolving issues and squabbles. Vice president Hymie’s handyman skills and humor are always in demand. Genya and Olga, friends for over 65 years, confide and argue like sisters. Jacobs shows them in the present, and traces their history through revealing archival footage and photos. As summer nears its end, the Lodge’s future is uncertain: some residents push for its sale while others are adamant that their refuge remain intact. Yet whatever happens, the family bonds will remain.

A comical yet touching portrait, FOUR SEASONS LODGE celebrates the lives of those who have overcome unfathomable events. As one of the residents proclaims, “To live this long, this well, is a victory.”

Check out the trailer.

Shameless Self-Promotion

After my mother-in-law passed away last month, I felt the need to write something -- not in particular about her, but about the experience of going through two major milestones in one week: her death on the Monday evening and my oldest child's bar mitzvah on the Shabbos.

I had gone to a wedding on the night before she passed away, I went to her funeral on the Tuesday, I went to my son's bar mitzvah on Shabbos and I went to an unveiling on Sunday. The only thing missing was a bris.

Talk about life cycles...

I wrote my personal essay, then looked around to find it a home in print. Aish.com was the first place that came to mind, but they didn't want it. The Canadian Jewish News agreed to hold on to it for a while, should there be extra space in the paper (but never actually saying they would run it, either). I tried Mishpacha magazine with a query, but didn't hear back.

Then I recalled THE JEWISH PRESS, out of NY. Years ago, when I was still single, I'd had two personal humorous essays appear in their singles' pages. I'd been thrilled with the venue, knowing that I'd be hitting the right target audience with my words.

So I went straight to the top and queried the senior editor of The Jewish Press and ... long story short... Jason Maoz agreed to print the piece.

The newspaper is accessible throughout the U.S. and Canada, with a large proportion of the readership in the NY/New Jersey area and perhaps in Florida as well. My piece will appear somewhere in the newspaper this Friday, August 1st. It will be available in their online edition Wednesday, July 30th.

In bungalow colonies in the Catskills, in family rooms across the five boroughs, at lakefront summer homes this Shabbos, people will be reading my words. Strangers will be getting a glimpse into my psyche. My late mother-in-law, z"l, will be receiving some form of recognition.

It's always nice to get published; it's nicer to get published when a piece has personal significance in your life.

My words will have found a home and for that I'm grateful.

Visiting Day

My son who was just bar mitzvahed 6 weeks ago is experiencing his first time at sleepover camp...SLEEPAWAY camp to you Americans.

My husband and I are living vicariously through Avi because neither one of us has experienced overnight camp before. Although Avi is primarily with classmates from his school, there are campers from NY, Montreal, Ottawa, other U.S. states, including California.

Today was visiting day. It worked out well because Avi had come home for Shabbos with two friends so they could attend a close friend's bar mitzvah, so we were simply driving him back to camp.

And what is visiting day at camp?** Half-hour 'display' sessions and sessions for separate swimming, and an entire hour and a half geared to registering kids for the Summer 2009 season, which happens to also be the camp's 50th anniversary.

Visiting day is also like going to your kids' school or going to shul: shmoozing with other parents, making small talk, comparing life notes, etc. The truth is I'm not too good at that -- or even comfortable with that -- in any setting! But it's truly not me that counts this time. It's our son Avi...who just happens to be having a great time.

And for that we're grateful. Okay, so what if he's not trying every activity? Okay, so what if he's not caught in too many camp photos? Okay, so what if he's only written a note or two to us?

He's having a good time, and that's what matters.

And we've already opened the discussion re. the possibility of my daughter going next summer -- her bat mitzvah year...

Perhaps I'll be writing a blog post next mid-July for Visiting day 2009...!

**And what is Visiting day at camp...aside from parents portaging coolers and hampers, lawn chairs and knapsacks, barbecues and pizza boxes, blankets and cameras all the way from their vehicles in the parking area to park themselves and their campers or staff members somewhere and have mini feasts. (Jews and food... isn't that what life's all about?)

Cue the Kewpie Doll!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdURxR5Tmuk

I believe this is my favorite movie scene of all time -- check the video between 1:57 and 2:15 minutes. It makes me laugh every time -- however many times! -- I see the film.

Note a young Lucille Ball.

We Need to Hear from More People Like This One

National Post Published: Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Re: Grim Exchange For Israel As Soldiers' Bodies Returned, July 17.

I read with revulsion of the celebrations in my native country over the return of terrorist Samir Kuntar; never in my life have I been more ashamed to be Lebanese.
That someone who murdered innocent civilians would be hailed as a national hero stands against the core of human decency that I would have expected from my fellow citizens. Kuntar crushed the skull of four-year-old Einat Haran, after forcing her to witness the murder of her father, Danny. These are the acts of a cold-blooded killer that ought to be reviled. Instead they are being championed by my countrymen and used as propaganda to further fuel the murderous agenda of groups such as Hezbollah.

Something for Baby Boomers

http://www.newsday.com/news/opinion/ny-walt-babyboomers-blurb,0,1036393.blurb


TURN UP YOUR VOLUME!!!

Yiddish, Hebrew, or Yenglish?

I just completed a wonderful survey about the development/use of American Jewish language. I read about it on Nextbook, a wonderful site about Jewish culture.

You, too, can complete this survey. Go to http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=9eQwWyblG_2b8ixLqbt6QFhg_3d_3d

If you have questions or comments, feel free to contact Prof. Sarah Bunin Benor (sbenor@huc.edu) or Prof. Steven M. Cohen (steve34nyc@aol.com).

Everyone's Got a Story...

...some just have more to say than others.

And this is where author/editor/lecturer Ruchama King Feuerman came into the picture.

Ruchama, who hosts writing workshops, both in person and via teleconferencing, recently compiled and edited a book of short stories/essays written by some of her students.

Not only does Ruchama have the pleasure of presenting this new batch of writers, she scatters some of her own writing tips and tools throughout the pages. Catchy and concrete ideas that are sure to help any writer work through challenges or offer a springboard from where to start.

Back in February 2007, I wrote a post called The Perfect Name. It was about Ruchama and the blog she'd just started. Alan Busch commented on my post, thanking me for the reference to Ruchama.

I am more than pleased to say that Alan is a talented writer himself, having put out his own book -- Snapshots in Memory of Ben -- a tribute to his beloved son who died at too young an age. Alan has a couple of essays featured in Ruchama's latest book "Everyone's Got a Story".

See, it pays to read blogs...and write!

Pick up a copy of this fine book of Ruchama's; it will make for good Shabbos afternoon reading, or late-night reading in bed.

Happy 4th of July!!

To all of my American friends and readers:

HAPPY 4th of JULY

As you celebrate your nation's independence, may you have a safe and healthy weekend.

(just an an aside: in my years of blogging, I've been using American spelling, not Canadian, so that the majority of my readers -- Americans -- will not think I'm typing with spelling errors.

:) )

The Bus Brigade

Okay, so school was out...what? A week ago for most kids, two weeks ago for others.

The school buses had the shortest hiatus on earth, only to reappear in the last two days.

Today is my two younger children's first day of day camp. We stood outside the house with the dog, waiting for the Camp Eitan bus.

"I see it down the street!" yells Noam.

A bus nears.

Nope. It's a Camp Robin Hood bus...and passes us by.

"There it is!" yells Adina.

The bus nears.

Nope. It's a Lubavitch Camp bus...and passes us by.

A mini school bus passes in the other direction. Might it be ours? Maybe camp enrollment from our area is down and we've downsized to a minibus...?

Nope. The bus doesn't slow dow. It's a Camp Green Acres bus.

Finally a bus comes our way. No fancy names or decorations on the bus. But a familiar face of the bus driver whom these kids have had for the past few years during their camp sojourn. The bus slows, the doors open, greetings and goodbyes are exchanged...and my kids are off to camp!

I take Max our dog for a walk when the kids are gone. Throughout our neighborhood, outside lovely homes, you see parents standing with their children or nannies standing with their charges. All are doing what we did -- waiting for that big -- or little! -- orange/yellow schoolbus to transport these children to day camps.

This scene happens in the morning between 8-9:30; between 3:30-5:00 in the afternoon, the scene will be in reverse, as parents and nannies stand outside the homes, waiting for the schoolbuses to drop off children.

The pattern will repeat itself from Monday through Friday...

Tomorrow, big boy/bar mitzvah boy Avi, is off to overnight camp for the first time. I don't think it'll be a big orange/yellow schoolbus we'll be looking for in the shopping center's parking lot where he gets dropped off. A comfy, coach bus ought to do the trick!

May all these buses drive safely throughout the summer, transporting their precious cargo to and from camps and summer programs.

A Touch of Blue

A Touch of Blue, the name of this brief post, was also the name of the literary section of the Jewish campus newspaper, when I was literary editor back in the early eighties at the University of Toronto. I'd come up with that name, as it had a double entendre for me: "blue" meaning ink of a pen, and also meaning sad.

I haven't tuned in for a while to this blog; my life has been very busy, to say the least.

It's been a time of sorrow and happiness, rolled into a short time frame.

My mother-in-law passed away last Monday, June 16th. My eldest child's bar mitzvah took place this past Shabbos, June 21st.

Shiva...and simcha: an odd juxtaposition...

(more to come...)

Nightfather

i read this book over yom tov.

it is a quick read. it is a captivating read. it is an insightful read.

i bought this book for one dollar from the discard book cart at the public library.

it is worth so much more.

i have read many holocaust books --fiction and non-fiction -- in my lifetime, but none like this one.

it is a novel made of up of short chapters. each chapter is a vignette. each chapter captures a father's memory from the war, and his children's reactions to that memory.

the reader is left wondering: is this a work of fiction or is this a biography?

with great simplicity, the author -- carl friedman being a woman actually -- captures a survivor's tale. the book, originally written in dutch and translated into english, does not lose anything in translation.

it is a powerful read.

i highly recommend it.

FINAL Sale

Oh. My. G-d.

I was just on the COSTCO website, checking out the location of one in Toronto near my parents. I want to go and see what sorts of paper goods they have -- if any -- for making a simcha.

I scanned the site banner of features: decor, food, furniture, funerals.

FUNERALS?!?!?

Of course I had to check it out -- it's broken down into categories with visuals: caskets, pet urns, memorial flowers, etc.

Oy... I can't help but laugh as I imagine this scene...

LAST STOP FUNERAL HOME. Vera and family are gathered for visitation from 2:00-4:00. Her mother, Eldora, died of old age at the ripe age of 97, and people are coming to pay their last respects and view the body.

Nestled in a baby pink, with mother-of-pearl inlay, coffin, she looks so peaceful, with her rouged cheeks and frosted pink lipstick. Her regular housedress has been replaced with a smart-looking denim pantsuit and orthopedic loafers.

People comment as they pass.

"Vera, I'm so sorry about Eldora. She was a wonder still at her age. Playing pinochle with the cronies at the seniors' lodge and baking muffins."

"She looks better than ever," is whispered between two lady friends.

"Vera. What a darling coffin! Did the funeral parlor supply it?"

Vera: "No. I got it online, ON SALE -- it was a clearance item -- at COSTCO! Marked down from $2500 to $800...can you believe it?"

Friend: "That is a bargain."

Vera: "Anything for Mother... And did you notice her pantsuit? COSTCO too! A special from last year's fall close-outs...I bought it just for this occasion, and even showed it to Mom, who gave it her blessings. You know, I guess when COSTCO calls itself a 'big box store,' they really mean it!"

A Quick Reference

Someone sent me this link. It's great -- and I suggest you bookmark it.

Don't thank me. Everyone...all together now....

"THANK YOU, MARALLYN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

http://www.allmyfaves.com/

A Girl Can Dream....Can't She????

Job Details

Organization:My Perfect Princess Party

Application Deadline:Thursday May 15, 2008

Website: http://www.myppp.ca
Position: Princess Performer
Term: Contract
Location: Toronto and GTA
Salary: $70.00/hr
Start Date:

Job Description
My Perfect Princess Party (www.myppp.ca) is looking for a new girl to play Barbie as well as Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty in Toronto and the GTA. Compensation is $70/hour

Requirements
Requirements:- valid drivers license- access to a car all weekends- available all weekends- beautiful singing voice

Additional Information
If you would like to apply please send the following to careers@myppp.ca- Performance resume- Head shot- full body shot- hair colour, eye colour, height, weight, dress size

Good luck to all applicants!

Send Submissions To: e: careers@myppp.ca

Organization Description
Make your little princess' special day truly magical . . .Your daughter will really believe she has her favorite fairytale princess at her party - a day to remember and treasure forever!
She can choose her Fairytale favourite: Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Tinkerbell, The Little Mermaid, and Arabian Nights. Or she could choose Barbie, Bratz, or a Ballerina party.

Google Thyself

It was probably about six years ago that someone had told me they'd Googled me. I didn't know what they meant. It had a risque sound to it!

But once they explained they'd put in a search with my name, I began to do that too every now and again. I still do, simply as a means to see what cyberspace tracks and TRAPS about me.

If I write and publish something new, my name is sometimes attributed to that, but not always.
Sometimes comments I leave on websites appear, too.

I seek my maiden name and come across Polly Adler, aka Pearl Adler, a notorious madam.

I seek out my married name and Google usually presents me with Nick Saban, a sports coach, or Pearl Harbor. Hello...? My name is Pearl Saban.

Googling oneself is sometimes as good as going to a different city and looking up your name in a phonebook. Sometimes it exists; other times it doesn't. But it's a game of curiousity.

See if there's a famous version of you out there. Ahem...a version famous for more than just a blog...or leaving a perpetual comment on a blog!

60 Years Young

Happy 60th, Israel.

I think you should have a falafel to mark this special day.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

Last Thursday I traveled to Ottawa (about a 5 hour road trip from Toronto) with my daughter and the rest of her school choir as well as several parents. This choir was having the privilege of performing in the national Yom Hashoah ceremony on the steps of the Parliament Building, along with Canadian dignitaries, international ambassadors and numerous survivors, who would be having the privilege of laying wreaths in memory of countless numbers who'd died in the Holocaust.

The choir children, grades 3-6, were excited by this honor and had started official countdowns to their Ottawa trip. The previous evening, they'd performed at the main Toronto Yom Hashoah ceremony, an annual event.

Giddy with excitement, my daughter had continually told us, "Stephen Harper, the prime minister, might be introducing us."

Needless to say, Prime Minister Harper was not there on Thursday, apparently off on other official national business.

When we left Ottawa, I called my husband to tell him we were on our way and to expect us around midnight; my youngest had picked up the extension, but my husband told him to get off so that we could talk. A few moments after I'd hung up with Ron, the cell phone rang. I thought my husband was calling me back...

Me: "Hello?"

Noam: "Hi, Eema."

Me: "Hi, Noam."

Noam: "Where are you?"

Me: "In Ottawa. We're on our way back to Toronto. We're on the highway."

Noam: "What did you do there?"

Me: "I went to see Adina and the choir sing at the parliament building."

Noam: "Was Stephen Harper there?"

Me: "No he wasn't."

Noam: "Why not? Where was he?"

This recently-turned-eight-year-old expected me to know the prime minister's agenda! I didn't expect him to know who our country's prime minister was!

I relayed the story to my mother. She relayed it to my father. My father is relaying it to everyone!

You can catch a glimpse of the choir in this short news video bit:

http://www.achannel.ca/ottawa/news_56560.aspx

Israel at 60

I was contacted yesterday -- no doubt a general email sent out -- by the publisher/editor of a U.S.-based literary publication that had featured one of my poems a couple years back--Poeticamag. The essence of the email message was: We are looking for poetry and short stories celebrating Israel 60th birthday. Please submit in the body of the email - no attachments.

I assume the publisher is seeking pieces for the journal's website not a print edition. I quickly answered the call-out, writing the following poem in about 3 minutes.


AT SIXTY

At sixty, one is not quite old, neither young...but somewhere in the middle.

With life lines to show,
fine wrinkles here and there,
graying hair or balding patches,
hinting age spots
and a book of photographs depicting a life.

At sixty, Israel is not quite old, neither young...but somewhere in the middle.

But in truth she is ancient -- Israel is a "she," you know -- and was reborn in May 1948.

Not everyone has the chance to be reborn. But Israel...she fought to be reborn.
She fought hard. Her supporters fought harder.

From desert sands and barren fields, she brought forth life.

From stark grayness, she brought forth greens and blues.

From a handful of devotees, she yielded multitudes of lovers.
Lovers of her country.
Lovers of her language.
Lovers of her culture.
Lovers of the blue and white of her draping flag.

Lovers of "Hatikvah."
Hope. Forever sustaining Israel.
Forever sustaining...

Published for Passover

Last week my mother called me up on Wednesday and said she'd seen my poem in the Jewish news and that it was very nice.

I knew I'd submitted a poem to be considered for the annual Passover literary supplement to the Canadian Jewish News, but couldn't remember which one I'd submitted!

And when I saw it, I remembered; I'd actually written the poem sometime last year and posted it on my blog, then this past February submitted it to the CJN.

The poem is based on an incident that happened to me; it is truth patterned in a poetic style is all.

Oftentimes that's what poetry is. At least my poetry.

It is nice to get published once again. To have my words published in a venue that means something to me, in a venue that is accessible to so many people in Canada, the States and abroad.

Here is the link: http://www.cjnews.com/images/stories/Supplements/2008_Passover_Lit.pdf

Find your way to page 22 of the supplement and you will find my poem. (The Montreal edition of the literary supplement has my poem appear on a different page with a slightly different layout, because of the advertising.)

Food A-Plenty

Many times I've told you what kind of special husband I have. I'm telling you again: he took 3 days off of work to help prepare for Pesach -- shopping and cooking and cleaning. We work pretty well as a team or sometimes he's the master chef and I'm the sous chef or main dishwasher, but together we get things done.

My husband enjoys working in the kitchen and attempting new recipes; I look to take shortcuts oftentimes.

For the seders and Yom Tov day meals we had some wonderful dishes:

chicken soup with knaidlach (matzah balls) and pupiklech (chicken stomachs)
vegetable soup (leek, sweet potato, potato, squash, carrots, broccoli)
gefilte fish
salmon trout
grilled vegetables
green salad
broccoli and potato kugel
pickled beef brisket
veal brisket
turkey roll with mushroom sauce
pastilles (ground beef stuffed in potato balls)
banana sorbet
matzah cake
lemon pie

For the charoset, we had 2 types: Ashkenazi and Sephardi. I made the Ashkenazi one: apples, cinnamon, walnuts (I tossed in ground almonds too), sweet wine. My husband made his family's Sephardi one: dates, sweet wine and walnuts. (with one small apple thrown in for good measure)
Certainly would've been a tasty mortar for those bricks those Israelites were busy assembling for Pharoah!

We have lots of leftovers and will cook fresh for next Shabbos and the end of the chag. And hopefully the diet starts AFTER that!

Passover Is A-Comin'

With Shabbos just around the corner and Pesach not too far behind, I wanted to take a moment to wish my Jewish readers a good Shabbos, as well as a chag kasher v'sameach.

May you enjoy your family and friends at your table or the company at others' tables.

And as my dear father has always said, "May we be able to wish each other a Happy Pesach next year again."

Amen.

A Fish Tale

I just found this article from a few years ago.

Some people have crying Madonnas; other people have talking fish!


Word is made flesh as God reveals himself... as a fish
Edward Helmore New York

The Observer,

Sunday March 16 2003


This article appeared in the Observer on Sunday March 16 2003 . It was last updated at 02:22 on March 16 2003.

An obscure Jewish sect in New York has been gripped in awe by what it believes to be a mystical visitation by a 20lb carp that was heard shouting in Hebrew, in what many Jews worldwide are hailing as a modern miracle.

Many of the 7,000-member Skver sect of Hasidim in New Square, 30 miles north of Manhattan, believe God has revealed himself in fish form.

According to two fish-cutters at the New Square Fish Market, the carp was about to be slaughtered and made into gefilte fish for Sabbath dinner when it suddenly began shouting apocalyptic warnings in Hebrew.

Many believe the carp was channelling the troubled soul of a revered community elder who recently died; others say it was God. The only witnesses to the mystical show were Zalmen Rosen, a 57-year-old Hasid with 11 children, and his co-worker, Luis Nivelo. They say that on 28 January at 4pm they were about to club the carp on the head when it began yelling.

Nivelo, a Gentile who does not understand Hebrew, was so shocked at the sight of a fish talking in any language that he fell over. He ran into the front of the store screaming: 'It's the Devil! The Devil is here!' Then the shop owner heard it shouting warnings and commands too.

'It said "Tzaruch shemirah" and "Hasof bah",' he told the New York Times, 'which essentially means that everyone needs to account for themselves because the end is near.'

The animated carp commanded Rosen to pray and study the Torah. Rosen tried to kill the fish but injured himself. It was finally butchered by Nivelo and sold.

However, word spread far and wide and Nivelo complains he has been plagued by phone calls from as far away as London and Israel. The story has since been amplified by repetition and some now believe the fish's outburst was a warning about the dangers of the impending war in Iraq.

Some say they fear the born-again President Bush believes he is preparing the world for the Second Coming of Christ, and war in Iraq is just the opening salvo in the battle of Armageddon.
Local resident Abraham Spitz said: 'Two men do not dream the same dream. It is very rare that God reminds people he exists in this modern world. But when he does, you cannot ignore it.'
Others in New Square discount the apocalyptic reading altogether and suggest the notion of a talking fish is as fictional as Tony Soprano's talking-fish dream in an episode of The Sopranos .
Stand-up comedians have already incorporated the carp into their comedy routines at weddings. One gefilte company has considered changing its slogan to: 'Our fish speaks for itself.'

Still, the shouting carp corresponds with the belief of some Hasidic sects that righteous people can be reincarnated as fish. They say that Nivelo may have been selected because he is not Jewish, but a weary Nivelo told the New York Times : 'I wish I never said anything about it. I'm getting so many calls every day, I've stopped answering. Israel, London, Miami, Brooklyn. They all want to hear about the talking fish.'

A devout Christian, he still thinks the carp was the Devil. 'I don't believe any of this Jewish stuff. But I heard that fish talk.'

He's grown tired of the whole thing. 'It's just a big headache for me,' he added. 'I pull my phone out of the wall at night. I don't sleep and I've lost weight.'

Richard Lewis Confirmed You As a Friend on Facebook...

Yup, it's true.

THE Richard Lewis and I are THIS CLOSE.

Okay, so what if I'm one of his 266 Facebook friends...we're still friends. He confirmed it -- just as in the title of this post. Just as in the subject line of the email I received.

And would you believe that out of all those friends he's got, we only have one Facebook friend in common?! A former classmate of mine in Jewish day school and high school is also a friend of Richard's -- talk about coincidences.

So how does one become Richard's friend? Well, in checking out my classmate's Facebook friends, I noticed Richard was on that list.

Richard? The Richard Lewis? The Richard Lewis of "Anything but Love" Marty Gold fame? The Richard Lewis who has attained new viewing audiences with his "Curb Your Enthusiasm" appearances? The Richard Lewis who has made black shirts, black sports jackets and black pants all the rage? The Richard Lewis with those big, baby-doe-caught-in-headlights eyes? The Richard Lewis who made "Jewish neurotic comedian" a familiar term? The Richard Lewis who, in every stage appearance, runs his fingers through his hair countless times to do what no mousse or hair gel could ever do?

Yup...that Richard Lewis.

So silly me just dropped him a message, reminding him of a show he'd played in Toronto close to 20 years ago, which I attended and where I'd managed to get his autograph in a comedy book of mine, with the help of an usher. And after the show I ran into him at a Toronto popular cafe and approached him then to say hello.

Must've hit a nostalgic soft spot 'cause the very next day I got confirmation that I'm his friend.

Okay, friend, I'm making a bar mitzvah in June for my son. Would you like to MC the luncheon? Or, okay, friend, would you like to be a special guest speaker in my other son's grade 2 class on Career Day? Or, okay, friend, I have another friend -- a blogging friend -- I want you to connect with. He's funny, he's neurotic like you, he's apparently a chick magnet, and he writes well. Maybe you can introduce him to your other friend, Larry David.

Here's to a long and -- if your monologues prove anything -- a long-winded (Facebook) friendship!

This Has Yiddisher Ta'am...

http://www.davidseastsidedeli.com/1.html

Play the music button when you open this link.

Anyone Can Make A Difference

http://shmais.com/news.cfm?ID=44538

A Beautiful Song...

I just discovered this song/singer on http://www.jewishtvnetwork.com/ -- it is such a beautiful and simple piece of music, and no doubt will leave you teary-eyed.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cac5iXNREJg

This Kid's Always Thinking...

I was preparing school lunches this morning and asked my youngest son if he wanted baby carrots or a cucumber for snack. He preferred the cucumber and I asked if he wanted a mini cucumber. He said yes but asked me to peel the skin first.

As I was washing and peeling the skin, he asked with a smile, "Do you have any dill to put on that?"

I said no, and he replied, "That way, I could have had a pickle!"

PPS*...

*Pre-Passover Syndrome...

Oy, this is something I'm already suffering from.

Symptoms:

-- clenched stomach muscles

-- new stray gray hairs

--an aversion to brown shelf paper

--continually consulting a calendar

--mental listing

--bingeing on nosh food

--anxiety... I want to eat all the food in the freezer

Like in most cities, Pesach is in the air. It's not even Purim yet, but I sure got a whiff of Pesach last week already when the supermarkets' Kosher aisles were half empty, the dry goods temporarily shelved elsewhere in the stores, and brown paper was lining the shelves.

It used to be the moment Purim was over that Pesach took over, but now Pesach seems to want to have even more of a head start!

And you know how it is with those Mishloach Manot packages -- before we buy goodies to package for others, we hit our own stocks of cookies and cakes and candies and other nosherai and think , "Good, if I give this to ______, it'll be a few less items in my cupboards that I have to get rid of before Pesach."

I had to smile the other night when I was shopping. The kosher aisles in this particular store had mainly been emptied with some shelves already housing paper goods and candy and cookies kosher l'Pesach. A very frum husband and wife were slowly walking down the aisle, presumably looking for where the Purim items were hiding. The husband aimlessly ran his hand along the brown paper lining an empty shelf, and his wife exclaimed in Yiddish: "What? You're touching the Pesachdik paper with 'treife' hands!!?"

I spoke today to a cashier in one of the predominantly Kosher supermarkets nearby and she told me that some years ago, the shelves would only get stocked two weeks before Pesach, so there'd be a mad flurry of purchases. These days, four and five weeks in advance is when the "matzah" ball starts rolling...

I'm sure I'm not the only Jewish female suffering from PPS. Maybe together with others like me, we should form a support group for this time of year. But then, come to think of it, who'd be available? The others will be busy assessing their cupboards and pantries, their cleaning supplies, their paper goods supply...and will then go on to recipes.

I'll still be eating my way through my Mishloach Manot packages...and then tackling the contents of my freezers!

We have some time to worry about Pesach.

In the meantime, I wish you a Freiliche Purim. And to those who celebrate Easter, Happy Easter.

Bye-Bye, Guy

One of today's headlines is Madonna and husband Guy, after 8 years of marriage, are preparing to go their separate ways...in Fall '09.

What?! Their fans need some 18 months to mentally prepare themselves for this celeb couple's split? Or perhaps this couple came to this offbeat decision by checking their Blackberries...

"No, Guy. Next month isn't good -- the kids are off with me to visit my dad. I don't want to upset them."

"Madonna, summer isn't a good time. You know that. I play a lot of rugby and do horse wrangling -- I don't have time to make appts. with legal counsel."

"Guy, this fall isn't good. I'm hanging in Hollywood with my Kabbalah pals for the High Holidays. If we try to tackle divorce then, my soul won't be pure for the New Year."

"Madonna, I'm shooting a film from December '08 through June '09 on Malta. I'll be unavailable for legal consults."

"Guy, I think we're both clear for Fall 2009. That should give our fans enough time to mentally prepare themselves for our split..."

___

And on a similar note...

I was on the Yeshiva World website, which I find interesting. I'm not up on all the Yeshivish lingo that can be found in the comments, but I'm learning.

Once in a while they feature letters from the YW mailbag -- and these make for countless comments.

I've read open forum letters about THE SHIDDUCH CRISIS.

Last night there was an open forum letter about THE DIVORCE CRISIS.

What?! First there are not enough guys to match up with girls and girls to match up with guys because of all the predetermined wants/needs/have-to-haves. And now there are too many has-beens floating out there?

The theories readers offer as to why there is a divorce crisis in the yeshivish world is interesting. The theories readers offer as to why there is a shidduch crisis in the yeshivish world is interesting.

Mazel. Mazel. Mazel. Hard work. Hard work. Hard work.

That's what it takes to find a partner...hopefully a life partner.

Guess Guy and Madonna will be adding to the "crisis."

Gettin' in the Spirit of Purim

For the month of Adar, my children's school celebrates even before Purim officially arrives. The halls are bedecked with magnificent thematic decorations, put together by our wonderful b'not sherut girls who come from Israel for the year to help out in the school.

Last week, the students from nursery through grade 8, were invited to dress up like their favorite teacher or administration staff member. My youngest son and at least 3 of his friends chose to dress like the same person, so seeing their interpretations of that person was interesting.

Today was "crazy hair day"... and my three children had me spray their hair this a.m. with silver, blue, and sparkles.

Wednesday is their Purim carnival.

Thursday, my oldest son has a half day because of the fast, and G-d willing, at night, we will go downtown to one of the remaining Orthodox shuls, and hear megillah there.

And G-d willing, my father is being released tomorrow from hospital and able to go home.

(I realized when I went to drop off and pick up my kids from school today that it wasn't a "crazy hair day" for me; it was a BAD HAIR DAY!!!)

Cleaning Up One's Act

I said to my husband yesterday that if I were a playwright, I'd write a one-act play -- a black humor piece -- about the following... How people need to settle things by cleaning: they clean and tidy up for the cleaning lady -- G-d forbid she should be faced with such a clutter; and they clean and tidy up in anticipation of having to soon hold a shiva in their home -- G-d forbid that those who come to comfort the mourners should see the clutter and whirlwind state of a family's belongings.

It hasn't been a good week: my father was rushed to hospital after midnight on Tuesday. He developed a sudden flu and fever, and with his already delicate medical history, it threw things off balance so that he was so weak and unable to walk, and suffered from a couple of seizures, confusion. He has finally been moved to a room from Emergency where he was in isolation -- Influenza A was the diagnosis -- until yesterday. I had to gown up, mask up and glove up in order to see him each time.

Thank G-d he's much better than he was and we hope he will continue to improve so that after a few days he can return home...usually a better place to recover.

My husband's mom isn't well and is deteriorating quickly. A vibrant and vital woman suddenly felled by an ugly disease...

It isn't easy to watch her nor see my husband in his worry and pain.

I said to him the other day: "I've never been so close to death before."

May we only share simchas and welcome Purim later this week with freiliche spirits.

Excuses, Excuses

I have found as an adult that people make a LOT of excuses. You think that stops with children and teens, but nuh-uh...excuses come out in a different way with adults.

"We [a family of six] are going to Israel...BUT it's for a family simcha...AND it's all on points."

"We're going to Florida over the school break, BUT it's ONLY for a week."

"...I'm going to Mexico JUST for a week." (I often tell people when they've given me their vacation travels and have thrown JUST FOR into the same sentence that they should never say JUST...simply because some people NEVER travel.)

I once had a conversation with someone who'd moved from a reasonable-sized, modest home into a large, well-to-do home on a posh street. When I mentioned she had a nice house, she said, "I'm glad the house looks small from the outside and not so ostentatious, so people won't talk."

Honey, you think people don't talk?! Of course they talk when you move from the equivalent of a 3-star roadside motel into a penthouse suite at Trump Tower. Your excuses don't change anything.

I know people who are bankrupt and owe tons of people tons of money yet they take mini vacations with their family. "We're under a lot of stress. We NEED a vacation."

People are continually apologizing for what they have or belittling what they have. It surprises me simply because I think that they're trying to protect themselves and what they have in some way. That's how it appears.

Money seems to set the tone for many conversations in this community in which I live; even if not overtly, dollars and cents seem to hover silently overhead.

I wish that people would simply enjoy what they have, make no excuses about it and at the same time not brag.

After all, cents don't often give a person SENSE.

8 Years Old

As I was told eight years ago:

"To No-am is to love 'im."

So true.

Happy 8th Birthday. Yom Huledet Sameach.

Help Sam

Winnipeg, Canada - An 84-year-old Orthodox Jewish man is in danger of being euthanized by Grace Hospital in Winnipeg, despite protests from his family that the hospital’s decision violates their religion (as was reported on YWN).
Samuel Golubchuk, whose family has been waging a court battle to keep him alive since late last November, was hospitalized for pneumonia in October of 2007. Doctors have attempted to hasten his death by starvation and dehydration, tactics that have been barred by a temporary court order keeping Samuel alive.
Golubchuk’s family claims that he is recovering due to medical treatment, and although Golubchuk is awake and responsive, doctors refuse to acknowledge the fact to the courts. Goluchuk suffered some brain damage in a fall in 2003, but is still responsive and capable of communication.

Please go to http://www.samuelgolubchuk.com/ and sign the petition.

With your help, this man might have a continued chance to live by his own means.

(my husband knows this man and his family from his years of growing up in Winnipeg; when it becomes national news, and with this petition, international news, it truly is a sad situation, and we must help)

Not Open To Discussion

Over the years -- especially the blogging years -- I've made an observation. I don't know if it's merely coincidence or something personal and directed to me, but...

As some -- or many of you know, or have come to realize -- I like to talk. I am very detail-oriented, so that "colors" my conversations or my writings.

I also like to break down barriers.

I can be formal, if the situation calls for it, but more often than not, I'm very casual. When I'm referred to as Mrs. Saban, I say, "That's my mother-in-law. Call me Pearl."

I like to get beyond "Hi, how are ya" and often get to the guts of things.

Lately, I'm of the belief that most people aren't in to that.

While I'm busy writing from the heart and just "letting loose", some other people seem to put up an invisible wall. Am I overstepping boundaries in any way? Am I touching a personal nerve of any kind?

I've corresponded with several bloggers over the years and sometimes the emails are about my blog or theirs; other times it's about our lives.

But I've found that once the lines of communication are opened, they get shut down rather quickly. I write a note, the person writes back; or a person initiates it and I write back, thinking the lines are open, but the person doesn't respond...or is so very brief that it's clear my message wasn't read entirely.

It's like the concept of a "one hit wonder", but in this case it's a "one message, no more" phenomenon.

I guess it's simply the little girl in this grown woman's body who feels rejected. When it's not silence that I'm seeking from others, but it's silence that I receive, it hurts.

Of course, everyone has time limitations, so a back and forth rapport is perhaps not always possible, but if it's the other person who's started the ball rolling, and then doesn't catch it again,
it simply makes me wonder...

That's it. There ain't no more to say. Just as the title says, "Not open to discussion."

All in the Family

Last night we went to see my brother-in-law's new 10-week-old Labradoodle puppy, "Couscous".

When we got home, my youngest ran to greet Max, and in an exuberant voice said to the pooch, "YOU HAVE A NEW COUSIN. We met your new cousin!"

That's My Boy!

My little guy made a couple of sweet comments in the last couple of days, and I wanted to share them. Of course they might not have the same impact on you as they did on me...simply because he's not YOUR little guy.

1. Noam was trying to describe a snack his friend had brought to school.
"It has chocolate and -- you know cigars? yeah, this was like cigars. (he proceeded to demonstrate how you smoke an imaginary cigar) Yeah, they're called SMOKERS, and they're like cigars but smaller."

Me: "You mean cigarettes?"

Noam: "Yeah, i didn't know the name for them. I thought they're called smokers."

[I love that name; I think it's great that he knew the word cigars but not cigarettes!]

2. We have a fairly large kitchen with a freezer-fridge and a stand-up freezer that are side by side. Now one of my weaknesses is that I put everything on these unit doors with magnets. Usually there's no longer white space on the appliances and the papers that are posted began to fall down in spite of the magnets.
Yesterday, Noam posted a birthday party invitation on the freezer door. This morning he couldn't remember where he'd put it on the door and tried to spot it among the posted papers and invitations.

"There's the party invitation! I see it. And I saw a spider on the fridge this morning."

Me: "A spider?"

Noam: "Yeah, a common house one."

[to me a spider is a spider and I don't differentiate between them...unless it's a tarantula! the fact that Noam elaborated -- correctly and knowingly -- on the type of spider made me grin]

The Marvels of Monopoly

(I received this message in an email from...Jerusalem)


If you think Jerusalem should be one of the cities on the proposed new Monopoly board, read on …

The makers of Monopoly are inviting fans worldwide to vote in an on-line contest that will determine which 22 cities will be etched in the collective memory for a new global edition of the 75-year-old board game.

The contest, which got under way this week and will continue through February 28, will allow Monopoly fans the world over to cast their ballots for the 10 best cities out of a pre-selected list of 68, including Jerusalem. The 20 cities with the highest number of votes will make it onto the new global Monopoly board.



Please ONLY vote for Jerusalem - by voting for other cities as well you bump up their numbers and make it harder for Jerusalem to get into the top 20. Jerusalem is at #27 and could easily be put in the list but only if we send this out to everyone we know and note that you can vote EVERY DAY up to Feb. 28.



VOTE NOW - It's Easy!
http://www.hasbro.com/games/kid-games/monopoly/

Waste Not, Want Not

My parents used to always tell me when I became a mother that I shouldn't eat off my kids' plate if they didn't finish a meal. Did I listen? Nah...!

It kills me to throw food out and I've always been that way. I can't even say it's survivor mentality because I didn't go through a war of any kind, thank G-d. My parents never instilled a real guilt in me if I didn't finish my food; I was just a slow and somewhat picky eater when I was young and my mother would keep reminding me of that.

I think I just "knew", as a daughter of a survivor, just how precious food was and still is.

But it occurred to me last night, after I'd eaten a FEW pieces (small, or not) of homemade pizza, that I'd finished the last two pieces on the tray because "I didn't want them to go to waste."

So the pieces might not have gone "to waste" but they certainly go "TO WAIST" -- MINE!!

Lice Ain't Nice

They're in the lice-removing business
BY RACHEL MONAHAN
DAILY NEWS STAFF WRITER
Tuesday, January 29th 2008, 4:00 AM

They're the lice ladies of Brooklyn.

A network of a dozen Orthodox Jewish businesswomen has developed a specialty in nitpicking — a profession rooted in Jewish tradition, the women say.

"They say Jewish men make good husbands," laughed Abigail Rosenfeld, who charges about $100 a head and works solo out of her Kensington home. "Jewish women are known to be nitpickers."

These days, the best technique involves less picking and more of a combination of combing and the use of various potions.

The women — who live in Borough Park, Kensington, Flatbush and Marine Park — have known each other for years and have worked together on lice outbreaks across the borough.

Lice are tiny parasitic insects — adults are about the size of a sesame seed — that live among hairs, most commonly on the head, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Nits are their eggs.

"Everybody here has a lot of kids, so [the louse infestation] spreads faster," said Susan Sherman of Borough Park, who's been nitpicking for years and is Rosenfeld's best friend from high school.
Sherman recently started LiceBGoners, employing 16 people and charging $75 an hour for a treatment that lasts an hour or two.

Rosenfeld also offered a more serious explanation of her community's specialty. The women have experience checking food for bugs, which aren't kosher.

"Do you know how many bugs you can find in dates and figs, lettuce, celery?" she said.

Because lice are not particular to the Jewish community, the lice ladies' fame has spread far and wide. Sherman tended recently to a family in Connecticut who hailed her as a lifesaver.

Adie Horowitz, of Marine Park, who runs Manhattan-based Licenders, recalled another reason Orthodox women got into the delousing profession about 10 years ago. "There was a tough strain coming in from Israel," said Horowitz. "Now all the lice are resistant to the poisons."
The Lady Bug, a good friend of Rosenfeld's, credited her as a master nitpicking teacher.
"Abby was the first one to develop the method," she said. "She should have patented it, but she didn't."

Rosenfeld's method, developed about 10 years ago, involves repeated combings, first with hair coated in conditioner and then with baking soda. The lice ladies use various versions of a stainless-steel comb with closely spaced teeth to do their work.

"We're social workers and psychologists for panicked mothers," said Dalya Harel, of Lice Busters NYC, who's been nitpicking for more than 20 years and employs eight people.

Kidspeak

My youngest has unintentionally, unwittingly coined a new word: "Shan"

Some weeks ago, I thought I was hearing things.

"Eema, shan I finish my homework now?" "Abba, shan I give Max his supper?"

When I first asked, "What did you say, Noam?" he repeated it again. And again. And again.

It began to grow on us, even though it's absolutely wrong. I don't correct him too much on it anymore simply because I like to hear him use the word.

"Shan": another word for "should"; derived from "shall" and "can".

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The fads that interest my children these days are rather different than what was interesting to me in the late sixties and early seventies in my pre-pubescent years.

My youngest, who will turn 8, G-d willing in a couple of months, went through his POKEMON cards phase. "Abba, can we buy a pack after school?" "Eema, I promise this will be the last time I ask you for a pack." How many times did we hear that refrain?

Yes, we bought him cards...to a limit. We bought him a collector tin and special cards that went with it.

These cards were traded back and forth between friends, but my kid (not always so wise) would even trade some of his new, crisp cards for dog-eared, weathered-looking other cards. We tried to teach him how to do a wise trade, but he's his own man.

Perhaps shul isn't the place for the POKEMON cards, so what did the kid do? He put his cards in a Torah Cards collectors portfolio. We would tell people at shul, "Do you want to see Noam's Torah Cards?" And he'd reveal what was really between the covers, beaming wholeheartedly.

Yesterday, I realized that he hasn't touched his cards in a LONG, LONG time. His collectors portfolio sits on our front hallway bench from the last time he took it to shul to show his friends.

I made a remark: "Noam, you haven't played with your POKEMON cards in a long time."

Noam: "I know.... I can sell them on eBay."

Me: "Who told you that?!" (hiding the laughter)

Noam: "Nobody."

So maybe Noam isn't the best at trading cards, but eBay you'd better look out for this 7-year-old. I'm really curious as to what he'll want to price these cards! The sky's the limit...

I'm Still Here...

...just rather busy and preoccupied these days with a number of things.

Among those things, my mother-in-law had some serious surgery and a prognosis one doesn't generally care to hear. She's currently recovering in hospital...

I have a bar mitzvah to plan for late June and have done nothing yet. Yes, I know the date, I know the venue, I know the type of meal I want, but I've not done anything aside from formulate some random names for guest lists. Planning a long-awaited simcha is never easy, but when illness is hovering in the background, it's really not easy.

I am on a contract till the end of February supposedly, but am crazy busy currently meeting deadlines and making sure that the 7 textbooks (university/college level) I'm responsible for as a production editor will make their printer dates with all the necessary information pertaining to the text appearing in the text as it should. I've been doing a fair bit of weekend or late-night, at-home overtime work to meet these deadlines and I'm simply wasted!

I'm busy with my kids and their homework and carpooling and...

To sum up, I'm here, but I'm not here. I tune in to some of your posts, but not all. I tune in to your posts some days, not others.

I want to write something witty, something creative for you, but it's not there -- at least not at the moment.

What is pretty consistent in my life right now is a sense of anxiety -- there's so much going on, coming at me/us from all different directions, it's tough just to keep up.

I can't wait for my Shabbos nap; in a way, I can't wait for my contract to end. I want to reclaim a sense of self, some true "me" time...and my husband and I have to be able to find some true "we" time, as well.

And hopefully I'll soon be able to reclaim a sense of "blogger", as well.

In the meantime, you can catch all my reruns in the right-hand margin. The archives take you back to December 2004. Why not start there and reread my words from the beginning? See if I wrote differently back in the early days of my blog, if my tone was different, if my humor was funnier?

Perhaps if you reread my early stuff, you'll realize you're sorry that you only began to tune in to me and my blog in May 2007 or -- GASP! -- even later than that; you'll realize you were missing a good thing from the start.

One can always wish, can't they...?

I've Got a Name

Since mid-December 2004, I've been better known as "Pearlies of Wisdom" or "TorontoPearl" or simply as "Pearl" to you readers.

When I decided to start a blog and told my husband as such, he said, "Just don't use our last name or full names" and for the most part I've honored that. Sometimes I did use my kids' names but rarely, and perhaps once or twice I might've let my husband's name slip out...almost as if I was testing the waters of truth.

But I've decided that there really is no reason to not reveal my full name. It isn't as if I've name-dropped to bad-mouth friends, family or community members. And if you happen to read this and have figured out it's me writing this blog, then you get 10 bonus points.

My husband is nearly asleep at a little after 11:30 p.m., but I just asked him if he doesn't mind if I remove this cloak of secrecy after three years, and he said no. "Just don't give our address." Okay, I think I can do that.

So, for all of you out there who've never corresponded with me personally and might never have found out who "Pearl" is...

Drumroll please....

Will the real Pearl Saban, nee Adler, please stand?

Will her husband, Ron, please stand?

Will her eldest son, Avi, please stand?

Will her middle child, daughter Adina, please stand?

Will her youngest son, Noam, please stand?

Will her dog, Max, please...sit!?

And if you behave yourselves, perhaps I might even post a family photo in time.

In the meantime, it's very nice to meet you.

In Need of Serious Davening/Praying...

Someone very dear and close to our family is in need of your prayers...and everyone else who can put in a good word with Hashem/G-d.

She wasn't feeling well for a couple of weeks, was taken to emergency on Sunday, was diagnosed on Monday, and underwent serious surgery on Tuesday.

The prognosis is not very positive...

Please daven for Liora bat Leah.

Billy Preston Sings the Real Version

Link to Billy Preston doing the song, "Nothing from Nothing" -- that song title AND FOOD were the inspiration for my last post.