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For any of you who might have read my previous blog and are wondering what I'll do my d'var Torah about... Last night, a LIGHT BULB went on in my head, it hit me like a bolt of LIGHTNING, and I thought: I'll do a d'var Torah on the NER TAMID -- eternal light. Yes, the ner tamid is in each and every shul, but in essence it is in the Shabbat and Yom Tov candles we light, the Yahrzeit candles we light, the light of Torah (gee, I started writing Toronto instead of Torah!?) that helps guide our path.
I'm certainly looking forward to gathering the information and sharing with the congregants all I've learned. I'm usually the one who's IN THE DARK about religious origins, but I imagine it will be an ENLIGHTENING talk for everyone.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
My Pearlies of Wisdom Are To Be Shared
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So...my husband gave his dvar Torah at seudat shlishit at the shul (http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com/2005/03/anyone-need-editor.html) this evening and my children and I were there to bear ear witness to the fact. When you don't do dvar Torahs on a regular basis, it can be somewhat scary, I believe. When you don't have a yeshivish background and can't cite rabbeim left, right and center, it can be even scarier. But Kol Hakavod, he did more than fine, and my children behaved, so that counted for something!
Yes, it is an Orthodox minyan, but yes, too, the women wield a bit of power, too, thanks to the rebbetzin there. I am not a feminist so power doesn't make me trip out or anything, but I'm pleased for the women in the shul that sometimes they get their way.
One of the ways is that women are also invited to give d'var Torahs at seudat shlishit. And once my husband had accepted giving his, the rabbi turned to me and asked, "So, Pearl, do you want to give one the week after?"
I sort of gaped; what kind of dvar Torah could I give? I asked if it would have to be on the week's parsha and he said, "It could be on anything." But we never confirmed that I would give one, and my husband thought perhaps the rabbi wasn't serious about the offer. So this evening I asked him, and he said, "Yes, I was serious. Please do one."
Now, I'm committed to doing a dvar Torah. It will be actually in two weeks, which is just by Purim. But talk about Purim will have tired people out already, and I don't want to bore the congregants in any way. I could throw in a joke, though, and talk about Madonna trying to be like Queen Esther, by taking that name (Kabbala Center approved) for herself...but I think not. As we were leaving the shul, someone asked if I would maybe talk about the book THE HEBREW KID AND THE APACHE MAIDEN, which I reviewed and included in a profile about its publisher/owner, Robert Avrech and Seraphic Press. http://www.seraphicpress.com/ I sure could talk about that, but I'd prefer for Robert to come to our fine city and give the talk himself.
I could talk about blogging...and Judaism in the blogosphere, and do some name dropping there, but I think not. I could talk about lashon hara, guarding of the tongue, which is a mainstay in my family, but I think not. I could recite some of my poetry, but I think not.
So now I'm looking for any good, easily researchable topic, that doesn't necessarily have to do with parshat ha-shavuah. I welcome any suggestions from my readers.
Yes, it is a challenge for me, but one I'm gladly willing to accept. Any challenge like this is an opportunity for and even a demonstration of my personal growth. Once upon a time, this Pearl would not dare even get up in front of the class to give a talk, unless she had to. These days, this Pearl welcomes having the opportunity to speak in front of large groups. Proof to me how far I've come in life.
So...my husband gave his dvar Torah at seudat shlishit at the shul (http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com/2005/03/anyone-need-editor.html) this evening and my children and I were there to bear ear witness to the fact. When you don't do dvar Torahs on a regular basis, it can be somewhat scary, I believe. When you don't have a yeshivish background and can't cite rabbeim left, right and center, it can be even scarier. But Kol Hakavod, he did more than fine, and my children behaved, so that counted for something!
Yes, it is an Orthodox minyan, but yes, too, the women wield a bit of power, too, thanks to the rebbetzin there. I am not a feminist so power doesn't make me trip out or anything, but I'm pleased for the women in the shul that sometimes they get their way.
One of the ways is that women are also invited to give d'var Torahs at seudat shlishit. And once my husband had accepted giving his, the rabbi turned to me and asked, "So, Pearl, do you want to give one the week after?"
I sort of gaped; what kind of dvar Torah could I give? I asked if it would have to be on the week's parsha and he said, "It could be on anything." But we never confirmed that I would give one, and my husband thought perhaps the rabbi wasn't serious about the offer. So this evening I asked him, and he said, "Yes, I was serious. Please do one."
Now, I'm committed to doing a dvar Torah. It will be actually in two weeks, which is just by Purim. But talk about Purim will have tired people out already, and I don't want to bore the congregants in any way. I could throw in a joke, though, and talk about Madonna trying to be like Queen Esther, by taking that name (Kabbala Center approved) for herself...but I think not. As we were leaving the shul, someone asked if I would maybe talk about the book THE HEBREW KID AND THE APACHE MAIDEN, which I reviewed and included in a profile about its publisher/owner, Robert Avrech and Seraphic Press. http://www.seraphicpress.com/ I sure could talk about that, but I'd prefer for Robert to come to our fine city and give the talk himself.
I could talk about blogging...and Judaism in the blogosphere, and do some name dropping there, but I think not. I could talk about lashon hara, guarding of the tongue, which is a mainstay in my family, but I think not. I could recite some of my poetry, but I think not.
So now I'm looking for any good, easily researchable topic, that doesn't necessarily have to do with parshat ha-shavuah. I welcome any suggestions from my readers.
Yes, it is a challenge for me, but one I'm gladly willing to accept. Any challenge like this is an opportunity for and even a demonstration of my personal growth. Once upon a time, this Pearl would not dare even get up in front of the class to give a talk, unless she had to. These days, this Pearl welcomes having the opportunity to speak in front of large groups. Proof to me how far I've come in life.
Friday, March 11, 2005
The Youngest "Bubby" I Know
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Mentioning grandmothers in my last post reminded me of something I learned about last weekend when I went to see the Kosher Komic, Ayelet, perform.
The event was held in a social hall at our shul, also referred to in an earlier post as "a little city." It was a sea of women from all parts of the city, from many walks of life. I got to see relatives I don't normally see, women I haven't seen in years. Among these women was someone I'd known many moons ago through a mutual friend. We'd gone to the same day school, but she was a year ahead of me, and in my brother's year. Yes, I'd run into her several years ago with a brief "Hi, how are you...? Where do you live? Who did you marry?" You know the routine questions asked when you reunite with a face from the past.
So this time when we spoke I got a little more information, an update from her. "I had a grandchild two weeks ago!" I threw a mazel tov her way, made some more small talk and went back to my table, thinking about her grandmotherhood status. After the show, we exchanged goodbyes and I wished her lots of naches on her grandchild. I got another tidbit of info. "Oh, it's not my first grandchild. I have another, a two-year-old."
I hope I was not standing there, my mouth agape like a fish out of water! She is not yet 45 years old and has a second grandchild; her first grandchild was born when she was my age!? I couldn't get around that fact.
Yes, I know the trends among the Orthodox: marry young, have children young, and the pattern repeats itself with your children. But it wasn't the case for me: I didn't have children young, I HAVE YOUNG CHILDREN!
I think it's a beautiful thing that this woman has not one, but two grandchildren. I certainly missed the early boat on the grandmotherly status she has, but I'm glad I caught the boat -- to marriage and parenthood -- before it set sail.
Mentioning grandmothers in my last post reminded me of something I learned about last weekend when I went to see the Kosher Komic, Ayelet, perform.
The event was held in a social hall at our shul, also referred to in an earlier post as "a little city." It was a sea of women from all parts of the city, from many walks of life. I got to see relatives I don't normally see, women I haven't seen in years. Among these women was someone I'd known many moons ago through a mutual friend. We'd gone to the same day school, but she was a year ahead of me, and in my brother's year. Yes, I'd run into her several years ago with a brief "Hi, how are you...? Where do you live? Who did you marry?" You know the routine questions asked when you reunite with a face from the past.
So this time when we spoke I got a little more information, an update from her. "I had a grandchild two weeks ago!" I threw a mazel tov her way, made some more small talk and went back to my table, thinking about her grandmotherhood status. After the show, we exchanged goodbyes and I wished her lots of naches on her grandchild. I got another tidbit of info. "Oh, it's not my first grandchild. I have another, a two-year-old."
I hope I was not standing there, my mouth agape like a fish out of water! She is not yet 45 years old and has a second grandchild; her first grandchild was born when she was my age!? I couldn't get around that fact.
Yes, I know the trends among the Orthodox: marry young, have children young, and the pattern repeats itself with your children. But it wasn't the case for me: I didn't have children young, I HAVE YOUNG CHILDREN!
I think it's a beautiful thing that this woman has not one, but two grandchildren. I certainly missed the early boat on the grandmotherly status she has, but I'm glad I caught the boat -- to marriage and parenthood -- before it set sail.
The Grays Are Coming... The Grays Are Coming!
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Hey, A Simple Jew, this gray's for you!
Each time I look in the mirror, I'm starting to see less brown, less auburn and more gray. A sign of aging? A sign of wisdom? Or just a sign that I'd better start to seriously consider coloring my hair? Aren't I a good mom that I didn't even suggest that maybe it's my kids giving me that new shade? No, wouldn't even consider that option...or would I?
As it is, I'm probably ten years older than my children's classmates' parents, and if I'm not older, then they also have children in their early and mid-teens, not just kids younger than ten. I don't want to show up at a school function one day in the not-too-distant future and be asked, "Who is your grandchild?"
So, gray friends atop my head, stay alert, be on the lookout. 'Cause one of these days, you might just not recognize yourselves in the mirror!
Hey, A Simple Jew, this gray's for you!
Each time I look in the mirror, I'm starting to see less brown, less auburn and more gray. A sign of aging? A sign of wisdom? Or just a sign that I'd better start to seriously consider coloring my hair? Aren't I a good mom that I didn't even suggest that maybe it's my kids giving me that new shade? No, wouldn't even consider that option...or would I?
As it is, I'm probably ten years older than my children's classmates' parents, and if I'm not older, then they also have children in their early and mid-teens, not just kids younger than ten. I don't want to show up at a school function one day in the not-too-distant future and be asked, "Who is your grandchild?"
So, gray friends atop my head, stay alert, be on the lookout. 'Cause one of these days, you might just not recognize yourselves in the mirror!
Jetsgo is a No-Go
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Wow, I woke up a few minutes ago to the radio news that Jetsgo, a discounted airline, based in Quebec but flying out of Toronto to points beyond, has gone belly-up. Today for some is also the unofficial start of Spring Break. So can you imagine the havoc that is at the Toronto airport today for people who booked flights with this airline. I don't even want to imagine the chaos that awaits them when they get to the terminal for their anticipated flights.
Apparently the signs for the airline are already gone, there are no representatives manning the ticket counters, and I just couldn't even link to their website when I tried. Either they've dropped it off the Internet or traffic to get to it has clogged the system.
There are several ironies to this entire thing.
One of them is their branding line: "Pay a little, fly a lot." Well, I guess that even paying a little wasn't enough!
Another irony is that they have continual deals to try and grab you. Currently it was a 1 cent sale -- you could fly westbound and pay only a penny for leaving the city...plus a chunk in airport and airline taxes, which no longer made it a penny. A couple weeks ago, it was a 1 dollar sale -- same premise, only a dollar to leave the city for points westbound.
Another irony is that yesterday, specifically when I heard a Jetsgo radio spot ad, I was kicking myself in the tuches for not planning a future trip with the airline; today I was thanking G-d that I hadn't.
For several weeks, I've been online seeking out the best flight deals to travel to California in the early summer -- it is an expensive flight any way you plan it, any airline you go with. A few weeks ago, I happened on this Jetsgo site, and saw they were offering a $1 promotion that was expiring at 11:59 p.m. that night -- I was on the computer after 11:00 that night. I found a "great" deal that would've run me just under $300 + cancellation insurance, but I couldn't commit to it because the trip for me was too far off. I thought maybe I'd pay and then find a better deal elsewhere. But since that time, I've checked elsewhere, and everything is more expensive. Even Jetsgo flights were over $100 more after that specific date. So daily I would see flight prices and then reprimand myself as to why I hadn't booked with that super special.
So you can understand why today I was thanking G-d that I hadn't!
"...I'm leavin' on a jet plane..." Hey, Peter, Paul and Mary, Jetsgo is no longer the way to go.
Wow, I woke up a few minutes ago to the radio news that Jetsgo, a discounted airline, based in Quebec but flying out of Toronto to points beyond, has gone belly-up. Today for some is also the unofficial start of Spring Break. So can you imagine the havoc that is at the Toronto airport today for people who booked flights with this airline. I don't even want to imagine the chaos that awaits them when they get to the terminal for their anticipated flights.
Apparently the signs for the airline are already gone, there are no representatives manning the ticket counters, and I just couldn't even link to their website when I tried. Either they've dropped it off the Internet or traffic to get to it has clogged the system.
There are several ironies to this entire thing.
One of them is their branding line: "Pay a little, fly a lot." Well, I guess that even paying a little wasn't enough!
Another irony is that they have continual deals to try and grab you. Currently it was a 1 cent sale -- you could fly westbound and pay only a penny for leaving the city...plus a chunk in airport and airline taxes, which no longer made it a penny. A couple weeks ago, it was a 1 dollar sale -- same premise, only a dollar to leave the city for points westbound.
Another irony is that yesterday, specifically when I heard a Jetsgo radio spot ad, I was kicking myself in the tuches for not planning a future trip with the airline; today I was thanking G-d that I hadn't.
For several weeks, I've been online seeking out the best flight deals to travel to California in the early summer -- it is an expensive flight any way you plan it, any airline you go with. A few weeks ago, I happened on this Jetsgo site, and saw they were offering a $1 promotion that was expiring at 11:59 p.m. that night -- I was on the computer after 11:00 that night. I found a "great" deal that would've run me just under $300 + cancellation insurance, but I couldn't commit to it because the trip for me was too far off. I thought maybe I'd pay and then find a better deal elsewhere. But since that time, I've checked elsewhere, and everything is more expensive. Even Jetsgo flights were over $100 more after that specific date. So daily I would see flight prices and then reprimand myself as to why I hadn't booked with that super special.
So you can understand why today I was thanking G-d that I hadn't!
"...I'm leavin' on a jet plane..." Hey, Peter, Paul and Mary, Jetsgo is no longer the way to go.
Artist-in-Training
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Here, people, is the recreated post from yesterday afternoon, the one that vanished into the blogosphere, headed for parts unknown. Perhaps it is not as eloquent as the original was -- I warned in an earlier post that it was a cheap knockoff!
I have three lovely children, thank G-d, but I do not like to talk about them too much. No, it doesn't have to do with "ayin harah" but it has everything to do with not liking to brag...about anything! Once in a while, I offer up some story of an antic or some witticism spoken by one of the three -- people, as evidenced, always appreciate a good story about a child -- but generally I don't. Yes, I'll praise them to their faces, or even to their teachers and grandparents, but I'm not interested to sit and compare notes with friends/strangers/sisters-in-law about the trio's accomplishments.
But I will dedicate this post to my seven-year-old daughter. For the most part she is a lovely child, a delicate and fine child. But sometimes we've considered changing her name to REVA because of her desire to be argumentative and feisty. I didn't know that PMS can kick in at his young age! Poopoopoo, she is a pretty little girl with crystalline-blue eyes that draw people in (when she was an infant and just a few weeks old, a male friend warned us to sign her up for a life in a convent: that's how attractive her eyes are), and with her smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose, there's a wholesome, natural look to her. Perhaps there's a Ralph Lauren print ad in her future...? Any agents out there?
This child has more fine art talent in her little finger than I have in my whole hand. What a pleasure it's been to watch her artistic renderings develop over time. I used to watch her progress in kindergarten from the beginning of one week until the end of the week. At the week's onset, she'd be drawing stick figures. By week's end, those stick figures were lucky to have detailed additions to their "wardrobes" and "facial features"!
It's the details that are astounding...and upon first examining her "portfolio"--read: countless of scrap papers lying all over the house -- one does not see the details. But look a little longer, and you're amazed at what's she's depicted.
A couple of examples:
Two weeks ago, she was at the kitchen table drawing a ballerina, and I was at the sink washing dishes. She began to talk to me about ballet slippers and I listened with half an ear as she continued to talk and draw. The next morning, when I looked down at the picture that had been abandoned on the table, I indeed could see a beautiful ballerina there, and my daughter had also drawn ballet slippers...but not just any kind of plain, flat ballet slippers. She drew Giselle-like ballet slippers with ribbons running up and around the legs.
A few weeks before that, I told her to make a picture for someone at work, a designer from the art department. All I told her was that he has two teenage daughters. She chose to do a pen-and-ink "tchikchuk" (Hebrew for "extremely quickly"), and I thanked her for it and told her I'd give it to the designer the next day. I had it on the seat next to me in the car and when I finally parked and moved to get out of the car, I looked closely at the drawing. She'd drawn a baseball cap on the designer, a bikini on his wife, one-piece bathing suits on his daughters and in between each of them was a surfboard, stuck in sand, with the ocean waves behind them. All this in pen-and-ink.
Granted, her drawing and love for drawing works for and against her. While she should be doing homework, she's doing portraits of the family and displays them in her gallery: on the refrigerator door. When I tell her to stop drawing and start doing schoolwork, she pacifies me, "Mummy, it's a picture of you!"
And when she hands me these pictures, I'm most flattered. I've got on very funky clothing (I don't even own any funky clothes). I have great hairstyles, and pouty lips, which are always smiling. I have long and beautiful Maybelline-like eyelashes. But best of all, I'm skinny!!!
I do hope that this daughter of mine will continue to grow in and develop her artistic abilities for many years to come. After all, I could stand to have countless more of those "I'm skinny" portraits hanging in my gallery!
Here, people, is the recreated post from yesterday afternoon, the one that vanished into the blogosphere, headed for parts unknown. Perhaps it is not as eloquent as the original was -- I warned in an earlier post that it was a cheap knockoff!
I have three lovely children, thank G-d, but I do not like to talk about them too much. No, it doesn't have to do with "ayin harah" but it has everything to do with not liking to brag...about anything! Once in a while, I offer up some story of an antic or some witticism spoken by one of the three -- people, as evidenced, always appreciate a good story about a child -- but generally I don't. Yes, I'll praise them to their faces, or even to their teachers and grandparents, but I'm not interested to sit and compare notes with friends/strangers/sisters-in-law about the trio's accomplishments.
But I will dedicate this post to my seven-year-old daughter. For the most part she is a lovely child, a delicate and fine child. But sometimes we've considered changing her name to REVA because of her desire to be argumentative and feisty. I didn't know that PMS can kick in at his young age! Poopoopoo, she is a pretty little girl with crystalline-blue eyes that draw people in (when she was an infant and just a few weeks old, a male friend warned us to sign her up for a life in a convent: that's how attractive her eyes are), and with her smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose, there's a wholesome, natural look to her. Perhaps there's a Ralph Lauren print ad in her future...? Any agents out there?
This child has more fine art talent in her little finger than I have in my whole hand. What a pleasure it's been to watch her artistic renderings develop over time. I used to watch her progress in kindergarten from the beginning of one week until the end of the week. At the week's onset, she'd be drawing stick figures. By week's end, those stick figures were lucky to have detailed additions to their "wardrobes" and "facial features"!
It's the details that are astounding...and upon first examining her "portfolio"--read: countless of scrap papers lying all over the house -- one does not see the details. But look a little longer, and you're amazed at what's she's depicted.
A couple of examples:
Two weeks ago, she was at the kitchen table drawing a ballerina, and I was at the sink washing dishes. She began to talk to me about ballet slippers and I listened with half an ear as she continued to talk and draw. The next morning, when I looked down at the picture that had been abandoned on the table, I indeed could see a beautiful ballerina there, and my daughter had also drawn ballet slippers...but not just any kind of plain, flat ballet slippers. She drew Giselle-like ballet slippers with ribbons running up and around the legs.
A few weeks before that, I told her to make a picture for someone at work, a designer from the art department. All I told her was that he has two teenage daughters. She chose to do a pen-and-ink "tchikchuk" (Hebrew for "extremely quickly"), and I thanked her for it and told her I'd give it to the designer the next day. I had it on the seat next to me in the car and when I finally parked and moved to get out of the car, I looked closely at the drawing. She'd drawn a baseball cap on the designer, a bikini on his wife, one-piece bathing suits on his daughters and in between each of them was a surfboard, stuck in sand, with the ocean waves behind them. All this in pen-and-ink.
Granted, her drawing and love for drawing works for and against her. While she should be doing homework, she's doing portraits of the family and displays them in her gallery: on the refrigerator door. When I tell her to stop drawing and start doing schoolwork, she pacifies me, "Mummy, it's a picture of you!"
And when she hands me these pictures, I'm most flattered. I've got on very funky clothing (I don't even own any funky clothes). I have great hairstyles, and pouty lips, which are always smiling. I have long and beautiful Maybelline-like eyelashes. But best of all, I'm skinny!!!
I do hope that this daughter of mine will continue to grow in and develop her artistic abilities for many years to come. After all, I could stand to have countless more of those "I'm skinny" portraits hanging in my gallery!
Anyone Need an Editor?
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A short while ago, I helped play sounding board for my hubby who will be giving a d'var Torah at seudat shlishit at one of the shuls we attend. It's a smallish shul with lovely members who are more of a family than a congregation. The rabbi and rebbetzin are outstanding people who welcome many different people into their minyan, while still guiding the congregation in an Orthodox fashion. This shul is a far cry from the other shul -- the small city -- that we attend. Given my choice, I prefer the small shul, the intimacy of it all, the "no-airs-about-them" members.
Anyhow, so hubby will be doing a dvar Torah and tonight I got a sneak preview earful of it. It's goo..o...o..o..d. But then, together we worked on making it "gooder." And my editing tools came out, my resourceful use of Internet, my pointing out the obvious and eliminating the unnecessary.
I felt I was back in university, taking my Jewish Studies courses, writing an essay for my Rambam or Modern Jewish Civilization course. And it had been a long, long while since I was in Jewish day school/Jewish high school and wrote any kind of Torah-related paper, so helping my husband with this was a great pleasure for me -- enlightening and fulfilling.
I told my husband that I can expand my freelance editorial clientele: I can continue to edit romance novels and business-related materials, and at the same time edit rabbis' sermons and laymen's dvar Torahs. What a zechut (merit) that would be, huh?
A short while ago, I helped play sounding board for my hubby who will be giving a d'var Torah at seudat shlishit at one of the shuls we attend. It's a smallish shul with lovely members who are more of a family than a congregation. The rabbi and rebbetzin are outstanding people who welcome many different people into their minyan, while still guiding the congregation in an Orthodox fashion. This shul is a far cry from the other shul -- the small city -- that we attend. Given my choice, I prefer the small shul, the intimacy of it all, the "no-airs-about-them" members.
Anyhow, so hubby will be doing a dvar Torah and tonight I got a sneak preview earful of it. It's goo..o...o..o..d. But then, together we worked on making it "gooder." And my editing tools came out, my resourceful use of Internet, my pointing out the obvious and eliminating the unnecessary.
I felt I was back in university, taking my Jewish Studies courses, writing an essay for my Rambam or Modern Jewish Civilization course. And it had been a long, long while since I was in Jewish day school/Jewish high school and wrote any kind of Torah-related paper, so helping my husband with this was a great pleasure for me -- enlightening and fulfilling.
I told my husband that I can expand my freelance editorial clientele: I can continue to edit romance novels and business-related materials, and at the same time edit rabbis' sermons and laymen's dvar Torahs. What a zechut (merit) that would be, huh?
Editing and Rewriting Out of Necessity
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Blogger.com, I just want to say how upset I was with you today-- actually yesterday (it's already after midnight). I took about 25 minutes out of my lunch hour at work to write a beautiful blog about my daughter, and when I went to post it, the system behaved uncooperatively, and I lost my labor of love. I tried to retrace my steps, but to no avail. You were acting wacky, Blogger.com, and you didn't even give me warning signals. You sure weren't yourself yesterday, or even last evening, when I tried to comment on other peoples' posts. Suddenly you were telling me there were no such blogs?
Sure, I will recreate the piece in my next post, but oh, how uptight and annoyed I was. Don't you realize that my memory fails me? That it falters when it tries to recall the literary spool of thread I'd unraveled on your site? What I'd offered you was an original; now you'll have to settle for a cheap knock-off.
Do look after yourself, Blogger.com -- there are a lot of people out there who rely on you, who need you in their lives. Don't fail us -- or me -- again...!
Blogger.com, I just want to say how upset I was with you today-- actually yesterday (it's already after midnight). I took about 25 minutes out of my lunch hour at work to write a beautiful blog about my daughter, and when I went to post it, the system behaved uncooperatively, and I lost my labor of love. I tried to retrace my steps, but to no avail. You were acting wacky, Blogger.com, and you didn't even give me warning signals. You sure weren't yourself yesterday, or even last evening, when I tried to comment on other peoples' posts. Suddenly you were telling me there were no such blogs?
Sure, I will recreate the piece in my next post, but oh, how uptight and annoyed I was. Don't you realize that my memory fails me? That it falters when it tries to recall the literary spool of thread I'd unraveled on your site? What I'd offered you was an original; now you'll have to settle for a cheap knock-off.
Do look after yourself, Blogger.com -- there are a lot of people out there who rely on you, who need you in their lives. Don't fail us -- or me -- again...!
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Rise, Fall -- and Rise Again
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Thank you, Rabbi Twerski, for today's words of wisdom:
A just person may fall seven times and rise (Proverbs 24:16).
Although we may have realized that we learn our most valuable lessons the hard way, and that therefore we may tolerate our mistakes because of their educational value, we are apt to be intolerant of a mistake that we repeat. "I should have known better from last time," one says.
We should stop berating ourselves. Some lessons are not learned so easily, even from experience. The reason? We may understand something with our intellect, yet it may not have filtered down into our hearts and bones and muscles. In other words, if we lack an emotional grasp of a concept, the intellectual awareness alone may not suffice to deter us from repeating a mistake.
We are human. Rather than blame ourselves for a repetitive mistake, we should realize that the anguish we feel when we have failed to learn from a previous experience might just give us the emotional insight that can prevent that same mistake in the future.
In fact, new mistakes can shed light on old mistakes. When we do something wrong once, we may make only a superficial repair. Soon afterwards, in a different situation, we again fall flat. We may continue to fall until we realize that all our failures point to a flaw in ourselves that we had never noticed. Once we have uncovered the real reason for our mistakes, we can correct it and greatly, genuinely improve ourselves.
Thank you, Rabbi Twerski, for today's words of wisdom:
A just person may fall seven times and rise (Proverbs 24:16).
Although we may have realized that we learn our most valuable lessons the hard way, and that therefore we may tolerate our mistakes because of their educational value, we are apt to be intolerant of a mistake that we repeat. "I should have known better from last time," one says.
We should stop berating ourselves. Some lessons are not learned so easily, even from experience. The reason? We may understand something with our intellect, yet it may not have filtered down into our hearts and bones and muscles. In other words, if we lack an emotional grasp of a concept, the intellectual awareness alone may not suffice to deter us from repeating a mistake.
We are human. Rather than blame ourselves for a repetitive mistake, we should realize that the anguish we feel when we have failed to learn from a previous experience might just give us the emotional insight that can prevent that same mistake in the future.
In fact, new mistakes can shed light on old mistakes. When we do something wrong once, we may make only a superficial repair. Soon afterwards, in a different situation, we again fall flat. We may continue to fall until we realize that all our failures point to a flaw in ourselves that we had never noticed. Once we have uncovered the real reason for our mistakes, we can correct it and greatly, genuinely improve ourselves.
Poetry in Mo...o...o...o...tion
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On one of the blogs that I like to read, Jack's Shack, Jack posts snippets of fiction-in-progress. So I decided this morning to take his example and post a poem that I started to write last night -- ahem, I mean this morning at about 12:10. But I had to stop because I was literally falling asleep at the wheel -- keyboard -- as I was typing. So here, for your reading pleasure, is the start of "The Face in the Window."
The Face in the Window
It is midnight, and I am doing a final walkabout in the house.
Picking up forgotten books, straightening sofa pillows, securing the dog for the night.
I look in on my dear children, fast asleep in their beds,
a sliver of moon peering down upon them through a crack between window and window shade,
a crease of light
haloing the heads
of these little treasures as they sigh in their sleep.
I lock the front door, then glance out the beveled side window at the snow beyond.
The yellowish light in front of the house casts a warm glow, beckoning me out of doors.
But I cannot wander out, although it might be nice to pirouette on the front lawn amidst the white down feather blanket of snow.
On one of the blogs that I like to read, Jack's Shack, Jack posts snippets of fiction-in-progress. So I decided this morning to take his example and post a poem that I started to write last night -- ahem, I mean this morning at about 12:10. But I had to stop because I was literally falling asleep at the wheel -- keyboard -- as I was typing. So here, for your reading pleasure, is the start of "The Face in the Window."
The Face in the Window
It is midnight, and I am doing a final walkabout in the house.
Picking up forgotten books, straightening sofa pillows, securing the dog for the night.
I look in on my dear children, fast asleep in their beds,
a sliver of moon peering down upon them through a crack between window and window shade,
a crease of light
haloing the heads
of these little treasures as they sigh in their sleep.
I lock the front door, then glance out the beveled side window at the snow beyond.
The yellowish light in front of the house casts a warm glow, beckoning me out of doors.
But I cannot wander out, although it might be nice to pirouette on the front lawn amidst the white down feather blanket of snow.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
The Dinner Party Revisited...at Dinnertime
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Well, this evening I figured that if I threw this post's scenario/question out to a bunch of strangers, why not pose it to my family!?
My 7 1/2 year old daughter wants to entertain celebrity teens-of-the-hour Lindsay Lohan, Hilary Duff, Raven, and...get this, ALBERT EINSTEIN. She specified that she'd serve Albert "brain food", ie. sushi.
My 5 year old son wants to entertain Spiderman and several other characters from Game Cube games.
My 9 1/2 year old son wants to...just entertain us, it appears, with his dry wit and his sharp observations.
My 40-something-year-old husband wants to host Shammai and Hillel. I told him that guests like these would have to sit at opposite ends of the dinner table because they'd be in disagreement all the time. I guess hubby would have to be the buffer, the deciding factor in the "discussion/debates."
And if any of you would like to come to a bloggers' dinner party at our home, we could arrange that too...!
Well, this evening I figured that if I threw this post's scenario/question out to a bunch of strangers, why not pose it to my family!?
My 7 1/2 year old daughter wants to entertain celebrity teens-of-the-hour Lindsay Lohan, Hilary Duff, Raven, and...get this, ALBERT EINSTEIN. She specified that she'd serve Albert "brain food", ie. sushi.
My 5 year old son wants to entertain Spiderman and several other characters from Game Cube games.
My 9 1/2 year old son wants to...just entertain us, it appears, with his dry wit and his sharp observations.
My 40-something-year-old husband wants to host Shammai and Hillel. I told him that guests like these would have to sit at opposite ends of the dinner table because they'd be in disagreement all the time. I guess hubby would have to be the buffer, the deciding factor in the "discussion/debates."
And if any of you would like to come to a bloggers' dinner party at our home, we could arrange that too...!
The Dinner Party
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If you could host an intimate dinner party with 3-5 others, people from the worlds of music, politics, entertainment, history, etc., and it could be people living or now deceased, who would sit at your table, and what would you serve?
I'm not sure about menus, but I'd love to have one dinner party that hosted Robin Williams, Billy Crystal, Jerry Seinfeld. I'm not sure that I'd have to serve anything in fact, because I'd be too busy laughing to eat, and those guys would be too busy keeping me in stitches to care enough about eating. And Jerry? Jerry would talk about NOTHING...but that would be something.
And then I'd like to have a literary dinner party, surrounded by Elie Wiesel, Sholom Aleichem, Anne Frank and perhaps author Judy Blume. Some heady conversations, some personal recollections and some sadness would permeate the room.
And one night I'd like to host a musical-inspired dinner party with Chopin, Ella and Louis and Isaac Stern. What kind of dinner music they would provide, huh? Better make sure the piano is tuned, the violin strings are tightened and water bottles and hankies are available for the vocalists.
So, you fellow bloggers, how about sharing plans for your ultimate dinner party?
If you could host an intimate dinner party with 3-5 others, people from the worlds of music, politics, entertainment, history, etc., and it could be people living or now deceased, who would sit at your table, and what would you serve?
I'm not sure about menus, but I'd love to have one dinner party that hosted Robin Williams, Billy Crystal, Jerry Seinfeld. I'm not sure that I'd have to serve anything in fact, because I'd be too busy laughing to eat, and those guys would be too busy keeping me in stitches to care enough about eating. And Jerry? Jerry would talk about NOTHING...but that would be something.
And then I'd like to have a literary dinner party, surrounded by Elie Wiesel, Sholom Aleichem, Anne Frank and perhaps author Judy Blume. Some heady conversations, some personal recollections and some sadness would permeate the room.
And one night I'd like to host a musical-inspired dinner party with Chopin, Ella and Louis and Isaac Stern. What kind of dinner music they would provide, huh? Better make sure the piano is tuned, the violin strings are tightened and water bottles and hankies are available for the vocalists.
So, you fellow bloggers, how about sharing plans for your ultimate dinner party?
If I Were a Rich...Girl?
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I'm a notorious radio channel changer -- while driving to work, one hand is on the steering wheel, the other on the radio dial. I'm continually tuning out and then tuning in to a disc jockey, or to an on-air guest on a program, and my music interests are varied.
This morning I was looking for something good on the radio and came up against a song performed by Gwen Stefani and rapper Eve. The song is called "Rich Girl" and parts of hit borrow the tune of Fiddler on the Roof's "If I Were a Rich Man!" When Harnick and Bock penned that tune, they could not foresee it being adapted some 35+ years later by a rap artist and played on R & B stations. Yes, the tune is catchy, but to me it almost seems so sacrilege for these women to be bastardizing a thoroughly Broadway showtune.
What does Tevye/Topol say? And now, what does Tevye/Harvey Fierstein say? Aw, maybe they just shrug it off, do the little Tevye dance and say "...l'chaim, to life!"
I'm a notorious radio channel changer -- while driving to work, one hand is on the steering wheel, the other on the radio dial. I'm continually tuning out and then tuning in to a disc jockey, or to an on-air guest on a program, and my music interests are varied.
This morning I was looking for something good on the radio and came up against a song performed by Gwen Stefani and rapper Eve. The song is called "Rich Girl" and parts of hit borrow the tune of Fiddler on the Roof's "If I Were a Rich Man!" When Harnick and Bock penned that tune, they could not foresee it being adapted some 35+ years later by a rap artist and played on R & B stations. Yes, the tune is catchy, but to me it almost seems so sacrilege for these women to be bastardizing a thoroughly Broadway showtune.
What does Tevye/Topol say? And now, what does Tevye/Harvey Fierstein say? Aw, maybe they just shrug it off, do the little Tevye dance and say "...l'chaim, to life!"
Help! There's a Mack Truck in My Bedroom!
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When I wake up to my first alarm at 6:12 a.m., it's to soothing jazz music on the clock radio. When I'm so relaxed with the music that I fall back asleep, I wake up with a second alarm at 6:30 a.m. And that alarm is like the cautioning sound that a truck makes when backing up -- you know, that loud and irritating BEEP BEEP BEEP.
This morning I was so sleepy that when that second alarm roused me out of my first alarm's fall-back-asleep sleep, I thought there was a Mack truck beside my bed!
When I wake up to my first alarm at 6:12 a.m., it's to soothing jazz music on the clock radio. When I'm so relaxed with the music that I fall back asleep, I wake up with a second alarm at 6:30 a.m. And that alarm is like the cautioning sound that a truck makes when backing up -- you know, that loud and irritating BEEP BEEP BEEP.
This morning I was so sleepy that when that second alarm roused me out of my first alarm's fall-back-asleep sleep, I thought there was a Mack truck beside my bed!
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Lookin' Out for Those Orange Cones
It's March 8, still winter here, but closer to spring on a daily basis. The snows come, the snows go, the frost comes and goes, the sun comes out and hopefully stays... But soon enough, give or take another 8 weeks, more hints of spring will be in the air.
For this blogger, spring in Toronto does not just mean: no snow boots, lightweight jackets, basketball in the driveway; laundry hanging on the outside wash line; playing in the park with my kids. Spring in Toronto means that little plastic cones can be found in neighborhoods throughout the city and its outskirts. These little plastic cones are markers; they shout "Step right up this way. Movie production in progress." Little plastic cones are associated with "Hollywood North"; "Hollywood North" refers to Toronto, a center for movie-making; and movie-making is associated with Pearl having stars in her eyes.
Can't help it -- I've always been fascinated by celebritydom and life beneath that great big Hollywood sign. And no, it's not because I especially care to move and mingle with those same people who get to walk the red carpet on Emmy Award Night or Oscar Night. It's because I want to see these people on a human level -- I want to say hi and see if they return the greeting, perhaps stop to chat. I want to know what makes them tick, what attributes (hidden or displayed) make them as common as you or I.
Now I must momentarily interrupt my ramblings with a personal message to a fairly new friend of mine, a friend who takes the time from a very busy personal and business schedule to read Pearlies of Wisdom. A friend who lives in L.A. and works in "the industry." Yes, I have stars in my eyes, but that is certainly not why I'm your friend. Knowing you does not get me closer to Hollywood, nor do I want to be closer to Hollywood. I like knowing that not everything in Hollywood is artificial, based on facades and masquerades. Life in Hollywood can be gritty, can keep you grounded, can bring to the forefront very human qualities. I could say of myself, "Enquiring minds want to know..." but it's certainly not gossip mill fodder that I want to know; I do not want to know what it's like to work with this celebrity or that celebrity; I do not want to know what these celebrities' home exteriors are like, or which designer boutiques they shop at. I would, however, like to know if these celebrities are decent people, moral people...even everyday kind of people when not working on a television or movie deal.
Okay, now back to your regularly scheduled program...
Okay, so we're up to Toronto, to spring in Toronto, to movie making in spring in Toronto, to stars in Pearl's eyes -- sound about right? Anyhow, I was probably in my late teens when I first realized what a movie trailer looked like, and once I first realized their presence around town, I always kept my eyes open, especially when I was downtown. If I was with a friend, she'd have to grab me by the arm, so I wouldn't make any side trips down a back street when I'd spot several rental trucks and long trailers with little windows in them that signified change rooms for the actors. My friends knew that if they didn't grab me, I was a goner...!
While on a hiatus -- see, I even know the lingo! -- from jury duty some years ago, I was walking in an area, saw some of these trailers...and sort of hovered. And to my luck, along came Robert Urich, jogging past and smiling at me.
Another time, I was with friends at a health juice bar downtown, sitting at an old-fashioned counter on swivel seats, when I looked around the room...and spotted Matthew Broderick sitting two stools away from me. I called over the owner of the place, and whispered, "Is that Matthew Broderick?" He said yes, and told me that Matthew was in the place almost every night after filming -- the movie "The Freshman" with Marlon Brando. I asked him if he wouldn't mind asking Matthew if I could approach him for an autograph -- see I was polite. My insides were yelling, "Just go, just go and don't ask anybody else," but my decent side was pacifying me and saying, "Be menschlich. Maybe he doesn't want to be intruded upon." Well, I got the green light to approach Matthew, and two minutes later, actor Bruno Kirby, also in "The Freshman" came along and sat on the other side of Matthew, so I got to converse with both, leaving my girlfriends to ogle and think how "brave" I was. This is how brave I was -- I asked Matthew, "So what's it like working with the big guy?" Only after the words escaped, I realized how they must've sounded -- I was implying how was it to work with such a well-known actor, with a lot of movie history behind him. But it was probably coming across as "What's it like to work with that big, flabby, out of shape, no longer good-looking actor?"
I've met a couple other, lesser known celebrities while they were filming around the city. Yes, they were polite enough...so they passed my simple test and got a gold star beside their names, when they signed autographs for me. Looking back, I wonder where those autographs have gone. What was seemingly so important at that moment in time is a lost scrap of paper today.
Yes, I still look for those orange cones around the city, but learned from experience last year that even orange cones don't always mean what they say. My work window looks out onto a parking lot, and last summer we watched a buzz of activity one afternoon. Lots of cars coming and going, trucks parking, equipment being taken out from the trucks and transferred into the on-site garage. My mind started churning and wondering, "What movie are they filming? I wonder who's in it." I couldn't wait until the end of the workday.
I hurried across the parking lot, and went up to one of the guys standing at the back of the truck, a truck that obviously held wardrobe changes. I asked him, "So what movie is being filmed? Which great actor is there in the garage?"
I received a lopsided grin in return. "We're not shooting a movie. It's a commercial. A soup commercial."
Uh, I think I won't be so quick to jump to conclusions anymore when I see "movie trucks". But I will still be keeping my eyes open for those orange cones...
For this blogger, spring in Toronto does not just mean: no snow boots, lightweight jackets, basketball in the driveway; laundry hanging on the outside wash line; playing in the park with my kids. Spring in Toronto means that little plastic cones can be found in neighborhoods throughout the city and its outskirts. These little plastic cones are markers; they shout "Step right up this way. Movie production in progress." Little plastic cones are associated with "Hollywood North"; "Hollywood North" refers to Toronto, a center for movie-making; and movie-making is associated with Pearl having stars in her eyes.
Can't help it -- I've always been fascinated by celebritydom and life beneath that great big Hollywood sign. And no, it's not because I especially care to move and mingle with those same people who get to walk the red carpet on Emmy Award Night or Oscar Night. It's because I want to see these people on a human level -- I want to say hi and see if they return the greeting, perhaps stop to chat. I want to know what makes them tick, what attributes (hidden or displayed) make them as common as you or I.
Now I must momentarily interrupt my ramblings with a personal message to a fairly new friend of mine, a friend who takes the time from a very busy personal and business schedule to read Pearlies of Wisdom. A friend who lives in L.A. and works in "the industry." Yes, I have stars in my eyes, but that is certainly not why I'm your friend. Knowing you does not get me closer to Hollywood, nor do I want to be closer to Hollywood. I like knowing that not everything in Hollywood is artificial, based on facades and masquerades. Life in Hollywood can be gritty, can keep you grounded, can bring to the forefront very human qualities. I could say of myself, "Enquiring minds want to know..." but it's certainly not gossip mill fodder that I want to know; I do not want to know what it's like to work with this celebrity or that celebrity; I do not want to know what these celebrities' home exteriors are like, or which designer boutiques they shop at. I would, however, like to know if these celebrities are decent people, moral people...even everyday kind of people when not working on a television or movie deal.
Okay, now back to your regularly scheduled program...
Okay, so we're up to Toronto, to spring in Toronto, to movie making in spring in Toronto, to stars in Pearl's eyes -- sound about right? Anyhow, I was probably in my late teens when I first realized what a movie trailer looked like, and once I first realized their presence around town, I always kept my eyes open, especially when I was downtown. If I was with a friend, she'd have to grab me by the arm, so I wouldn't make any side trips down a back street when I'd spot several rental trucks and long trailers with little windows in them that signified change rooms for the actors. My friends knew that if they didn't grab me, I was a goner...!
While on a hiatus -- see, I even know the lingo! -- from jury duty some years ago, I was walking in an area, saw some of these trailers...and sort of hovered. And to my luck, along came Robert Urich, jogging past and smiling at me.
Another time, I was with friends at a health juice bar downtown, sitting at an old-fashioned counter on swivel seats, when I looked around the room...and spotted Matthew Broderick sitting two stools away from me. I called over the owner of the place, and whispered, "Is that Matthew Broderick?" He said yes, and told me that Matthew was in the place almost every night after filming -- the movie "The Freshman" with Marlon Brando. I asked him if he wouldn't mind asking Matthew if I could approach him for an autograph -- see I was polite. My insides were yelling, "Just go, just go and don't ask anybody else," but my decent side was pacifying me and saying, "Be menschlich. Maybe he doesn't want to be intruded upon." Well, I got the green light to approach Matthew, and two minutes later, actor Bruno Kirby, also in "The Freshman" came along and sat on the other side of Matthew, so I got to converse with both, leaving my girlfriends to ogle and think how "brave" I was. This is how brave I was -- I asked Matthew, "So what's it like working with the big guy?" Only after the words escaped, I realized how they must've sounded -- I was implying how was it to work with such a well-known actor, with a lot of movie history behind him. But it was probably coming across as "What's it like to work with that big, flabby, out of shape, no longer good-looking actor?"
I've met a couple other, lesser known celebrities while they were filming around the city. Yes, they were polite enough...so they passed my simple test and got a gold star beside their names, when they signed autographs for me. Looking back, I wonder where those autographs have gone. What was seemingly so important at that moment in time is a lost scrap of paper today.
Yes, I still look for those orange cones around the city, but learned from experience last year that even orange cones don't always mean what they say. My work window looks out onto a parking lot, and last summer we watched a buzz of activity one afternoon. Lots of cars coming and going, trucks parking, equipment being taken out from the trucks and transferred into the on-site garage. My mind started churning and wondering, "What movie are they filming? I wonder who's in it." I couldn't wait until the end of the workday.
I hurried across the parking lot, and went up to one of the guys standing at the back of the truck, a truck that obviously held wardrobe changes. I asked him, "So what movie is being filmed? Which great actor is there in the garage?"
I received a lopsided grin in return. "We're not shooting a movie. It's a commercial. A soup commercial."
Uh, I think I won't be so quick to jump to conclusions anymore when I see "movie trucks". But I will still be keeping my eyes open for those orange cones...
I Dug Deep in My Last Post, but Now I've Caved...!
Those of you who have been kind enough to read my blog over the last little while will look at this title, will look at the layout of my blog page...and ought to understand.
Sorry, folks. I'm as fickle as they come.
Sorry, folks. I'm as fickle as they come.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Diggin' Deep
I've said it before and I'll say it again: One of my favorite blogs to read is that of A Simple Jew -- http://asimplejew.blogspot.com. In his simplicity, he is most eloquent; he says more by saying less. Recently, in his wisdom, he touched upon timing and coincidences.
At some point in our lives, we each encounter an incident that leaves us gaping in wonder -- Can you believe that just happened? I don't believe it! Wow, this is 'min ha-shamayim.' Most of us have more than one incident that we can recall falling into this category of "timeliness." Here is just one of mine...
Since 1983 I've been a volunteer with the Toronto Jewish Archives cataloging committee. That means that I've had the pleasure of meeting one night a month for much of the year with a group of varied individuals, and we talk as we sort through files of Jewish agencies and organizations, files of reknowned Jewish Toronto figures, files that have yellowed with age, become water-stained, dog-eared and the like. It is like the Cairo genizah -- a receptacle of the history of Jewish Toronto and the province of Ontario. And it has been my pleasure all these years to sit with these people as we transfer and sort files into acid-free file folders, identify people in photographs, label files, etc. I have always been the youngest volunteer member of the committee, so I get to hear from the older volunteers the personal stories of growing up Jewish in this city. I'm getting an "insider's look" at the way the city was (my parents were immigrants in 1949 and 1956, giving me a later version of the city's history), and as is said, "The pleasure is all mine."
The files we look through are varied, some drier than others. But several years ago, for quite some time, we worked on cataloguing the JIAS (Jewish Immigrant Aid Society) files -- we were working in particular on those files in which people were applying to sponsor relatives from abroad to come to Canada, to Toronto. They were primarily files from the mid- to late 1940's, after WW2.
It was very sad to review these applications and see names of people and the write-ups of their experiences in the war -- which camps they were interned in, which ghettos they escaped from, occupations before the wars, names of family members before the war. Although sad to read, the files were also captivating.
One night, I picked up a handful of these files, to sort through their contents and transfer the items. One file caught my eye: it had my maiden name and a woman's first name, her Jewish name. Now, I have an aunt who lives in the U.S. but used to live in Toronto after the war, and although I know her by her English name, the name on the file was the same as my aunt's Jewish name. Hesitating, I opened up the file, and began to scan one document. Address of named client; occupation of named client; length of time in Canada of named client and person she wanted to sponsor. None of it rang any bells for me. I moved on to another document. Same client name, occupation, and in this document, some time had passed. Then I saw the name of the person this client wished to sponsor: it was my father. This client was in fact my aunt, my father's sister, who was the other sole survivor of his family. She had come to Canada before him and was now looking to sponsor him. His personal story, some of which I hadn't known, was briefly outlined in the application.
I'm sorry to say this was no reunion story, but it was one of those "stop, take a breath and stare in wonder" stories. How is it that I, Pearl _____, happened to be at Archives that night, happened to pick up a file with my family name, and it happened to be about my family? Had anyone else in the room picked it up, they wouldn't have brought my attention to it because they really knew me only on a first-name basis, and the family name would have rang no bells for anyone else, either. I had just attained another small piece in my family puzzle, and I was thrilled with it. I got permission to photocopy the file and to share it with my parents, with my father in particular.
The contents of that file provided me with some missing links, and that file has since become part of my personal "genizah"!
At some point in our lives, we each encounter an incident that leaves us gaping in wonder -- Can you believe that just happened? I don't believe it! Wow, this is 'min ha-shamayim.' Most of us have more than one incident that we can recall falling into this category of "timeliness." Here is just one of mine...
Since 1983 I've been a volunteer with the Toronto Jewish Archives cataloging committee. That means that I've had the pleasure of meeting one night a month for much of the year with a group of varied individuals, and we talk as we sort through files of Jewish agencies and organizations, files of reknowned Jewish Toronto figures, files that have yellowed with age, become water-stained, dog-eared and the like. It is like the Cairo genizah -- a receptacle of the history of Jewish Toronto and the province of Ontario. And it has been my pleasure all these years to sit with these people as we transfer and sort files into acid-free file folders, identify people in photographs, label files, etc. I have always been the youngest volunteer member of the committee, so I get to hear from the older volunteers the personal stories of growing up Jewish in this city. I'm getting an "insider's look" at the way the city was (my parents were immigrants in 1949 and 1956, giving me a later version of the city's history), and as is said, "The pleasure is all mine."
The files we look through are varied, some drier than others. But several years ago, for quite some time, we worked on cataloguing the JIAS (Jewish Immigrant Aid Society) files -- we were working in particular on those files in which people were applying to sponsor relatives from abroad to come to Canada, to Toronto. They were primarily files from the mid- to late 1940's, after WW2.
It was very sad to review these applications and see names of people and the write-ups of their experiences in the war -- which camps they were interned in, which ghettos they escaped from, occupations before the wars, names of family members before the war. Although sad to read, the files were also captivating.
One night, I picked up a handful of these files, to sort through their contents and transfer the items. One file caught my eye: it had my maiden name and a woman's first name, her Jewish name. Now, I have an aunt who lives in the U.S. but used to live in Toronto after the war, and although I know her by her English name, the name on the file was the same as my aunt's Jewish name. Hesitating, I opened up the file, and began to scan one document. Address of named client; occupation of named client; length of time in Canada of named client and person she wanted to sponsor. None of it rang any bells for me. I moved on to another document. Same client name, occupation, and in this document, some time had passed. Then I saw the name of the person this client wished to sponsor: it was my father. This client was in fact my aunt, my father's sister, who was the other sole survivor of his family. She had come to Canada before him and was now looking to sponsor him. His personal story, some of which I hadn't known, was briefly outlined in the application.
I'm sorry to say this was no reunion story, but it was one of those "stop, take a breath and stare in wonder" stories. How is it that I, Pearl _____, happened to be at Archives that night, happened to pick up a file with my family name, and it happened to be about my family? Had anyone else in the room picked it up, they wouldn't have brought my attention to it because they really knew me only on a first-name basis, and the family name would have rang no bells for anyone else, either. I had just attained another small piece in my family puzzle, and I was thrilled with it. I got permission to photocopy the file and to share it with my parents, with my father in particular.
The contents of that file provided me with some missing links, and that file has since become part of my personal "genizah"!
Sign Sign, Everywhere a Sign
En route to work today, I noticed an interesting sign alongside a ramp to get onto a highway. The sign said: WAIT FOR GAP. Now I know what it means, but I wondered if people didn't quite get it, they might stand at that piece of road and wait and wait until a GAP store is built onsite.
And then I thought of another sign I've seen that's made me wonder. I travel down the world's longest north-south street, Yonge Street, and there is an intersection with lights and streets running east-west. The east side has Church Avenue; the west side has Churchill Avenue. WHAT?? Did Toronto's roadworks department decide to change the street name midway, or did they start with Churchill Avenue, and then run out of enough paint for the east side's name and stopped at Church?
And yes, there is a church on the north-east corner, at Church Avenue. That's funny, I haven't see any "Shul Boulevard, "Temple Road" or "Synagogue Crescent" anywhere in the city.
Has anyone out there noticed any odd street signs that deserve a mention here?
And then I thought of another sign I've seen that's made me wonder. I travel down the world's longest north-south street, Yonge Street, and there is an intersection with lights and streets running east-west. The east side has Church Avenue; the west side has Churchill Avenue. WHAT?? Did Toronto's roadworks department decide to change the street name midway, or did they start with Churchill Avenue, and then run out of enough paint for the east side's name and stopped at Church?
And yes, there is a church on the north-east corner, at Church Avenue. That's funny, I haven't see any "Shul Boulevard, "Temple Road" or "Synagogue Crescent" anywhere in the city.
Has anyone out there noticed any odd street signs that deserve a mention here?
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Ayelet, the Kosher Komic
I came home a short while ago after seeing this comedienne. May I suggest an evening out for you ladies, if Ayelet hits your town. You won't be sorry--she's quick, she's entertaining, she will strike a chord and you will laugh at her humor, and those bits of yourself that you recognize.
I've had the pleasure to see and enjoy Ayelet's show, contacted her today (Monday, March 7) to tell her about my mention of her on my blog, and she had this to say:
Pearl,
A few more "pearlies" of my own...
If I am not going to be in someone's area, they can order my CD online through my website: www.kosherkomedy.com
Also, please feel free to give my name and information to any organizations you feel might want to have me perform for their Rosh
Chodesh events, fund-raisers, or any function, world-wide. I travel constantly and am always looking for fun new places to which to
bring simcha and laughter!
And one last thing... There is an amazing opportunity to do hachnassas kallah, and I am pasting the email I got from my friend (who
I mentioned in my show - Yissroel Chaim Michael ben Breindel, who is a crunchy-granola alternative healer and orthodox spiritual guy
aged 39, still looking for his zivug as well!)
Tizki l'mitzvos!!!
Ayelet
******************
Dear Friends, amv's
I am calling upon you to enroll you all in a GREAT Mitzvah.
Rabbanit Chaya Klein of Rechovot, Israel is an Almanah and a mother of a large family K"H. I have taken it upon myself to raise the
money for the wedding of her son Yitzchak. IY"H by Pesach I hope to have $5000 USD to be alotted for the night of the Chassanah. I
ask you all to please join with me in opening your hearts to sharing in this joyous Mitzvah of Simchas Chosson V'Kallah.
Please be as generous as you can and share this with as many people as you can. B"H all of you have come through for me before in
terms of matters of Tzedakah and I have no doubt that you will now.
Please make ***TAX DEDUCTIBLE*** Canadian cheques out to VMM, and US cheques to Congregation Binyan Olem.
Send to:
Micha (Larry) Braun
5785 Sir Walter Scott, #303,
Cote Saint Luc, Quebec,
H4W 1S4, Canada
Anyone in Israel, please just contact me and we will see about gathering the money there, and where to send it.
MichaBraun
(514) 488-8039
Please feel free to contact me at any time for clarification about this or anything else.
Thank you again my friends, and Tizku L'mitzvos, U L'Masim Tovim, U L'Shanim Rabot!
Comedienne keeps her comedy kosher
By DAVE GORDON
Special to The CJN
Take a dollop of Jackie Mason, a dash of Jerry Seinfeld and a healthy serving of Lucille Ball’s wackiness and you have the recipe for the comedic stylings of Ayelet, an up-and-coming Jewish comic.
Like Cher and Madonna, she only goes by one name professionally. (Her last name is Ben Har.) But unlike those other entertainers, the 20something comic is completely family friendly – she doesn’t swear, tell dirty jokes or talk about sex – and, as a strictly observant Jew, she only performs in front of women.
Known as the “Kosher Komic,” she touts herself as the only “strictly kosher” comedienne in the world.
“Most comics today are not in any way clean. Jewish humour, kosher humour, is difficult, but somehow Hashem has helped me find the way to be funny and clean,” says Ayelet, who lives in Jerusalem’s Old City.
Her latest world tour runs from February to April and hits London, Toronto and the east and west coasts of the United States. She is scheduled to perform at the BAYT synagogue in Thornhill on Sunday, March 6, at 8 p.m.
Her set includes routines about children, Pesach, diets and quirky occasions in Jewish life. She also pokes fun at Britney Spears’ newfound kashrut observance and kvetches about her misadventures with shadchanim (matchmakers) – “I’ve contacted 165 shadchanim in nine different states, four different countries and personally seen over 75 of them, all in nine months.”
But she is perhaps best known among her fans for her tongue-in-cheek shtick called “Glatt Kosher Airlines.”
“All of our flights are numbered 613… Gentlemen, I hope you can hear me through the mechitzah. My voice has been altered for your protection… Should there be, chas v’chalila, a rapid change in cabin pressure, from the panel above your head will fall a Sefer Tehillim [Psalms]. Please say your own tehillim first, prior to assisting a small child, elderly passenger or recent baal tshuvah seated next to you.”
Ayelet wasn’t always what she calls the “ultra-Orthodox girl with bulletproof stockings.”
She’s been a performer for about 10 years, having bounced between New York and Los Angeles as an actress and appeared on HBO, Comedy Central and Lifetime Television, as well as on Sesame Street and The Division.
She began doing stand-up five years ago in “treif” comedy clubs across New York and Los Angeles – including such well-known comedy institutions as The Improv, Laugh Factory and the Comedy Store – before becoming observant 21/2 years ago.
She only revived her career in its new, more conservative form last year while performing in front of seminary girls in Jerusalem. She has since entertained haredi women, as well as more modern crowds – she appeared last month at a café in Jerusalem’s Baka neighbourhood, followed by a performance the following night in a private living room in the haredi Jerusalem neighbourhood of Har Nof.
“People have always told me I am very funny. I just took a while to get my courage together and get up on stage to make people laugh. But once I was up there, there was no getting me down.”
Ayelet currently works for two Jewish outreach organizations, Aish HaTorah and Isralight, where she first “found the beauty and truth in Torah, and a terrific, meaningful life.”
Ayelet has performed at seminaries, in living rooms and at shul fundraisers – but only for women.
“I have been in showbiz in the secular world. I’ve performed in front of mixed crowds, men and women. I’ve come to a point in my life where I feel that it would be most modest of me to perform only in front of women,” she says.
In doing so, Ayelet has given many observant Jewish women their first opportunity to see stand-up comedy.
Many observant Jews don’t have televisions and don’t go to movies, mostly due to sexual and violent content, thereby limiting their entertainment choices, she explains.
Ayelet says she looks up to Rachel Factor, an Orthodox Jewish convert and former Rockette who is touring with a one-woman show called JAP.
“She is an amazing Jewish woman and a terrific performer,” Ayelet says. “She has transformed her whole life and is now doing what she loves and making Jewish women happy.”
Ayelet’s CD is available at select locations, or at www.kosherkomedy.com.
I've had the pleasure to see and enjoy Ayelet's show, contacted her today (Monday, March 7) to tell her about my mention of her on my blog, and she had this to say:
Pearl,
A few more "pearlies" of my own...
If I am not going to be in someone's area, they can order my CD online through my website: www.kosherkomedy.com
Also, please feel free to give my name and information to any organizations you feel might want to have me perform for their Rosh
Chodesh events, fund-raisers, or any function, world-wide. I travel constantly and am always looking for fun new places to which to
bring simcha and laughter!
And one last thing... There is an amazing opportunity to do hachnassas kallah, and I am pasting the email I got from my friend (who
I mentioned in my show - Yissroel Chaim Michael ben Breindel, who is a crunchy-granola alternative healer and orthodox spiritual guy
aged 39, still looking for his zivug as well!)
Tizki l'mitzvos!!!
Ayelet
******************
Dear Friends, amv's
I am calling upon you to enroll you all in a GREAT Mitzvah.
Rabbanit Chaya Klein of Rechovot, Israel is an Almanah and a mother of a large family K"H. I have taken it upon myself to raise the
money for the wedding of her son Yitzchak. IY"H by Pesach I hope to have $5000 USD to be alotted for the night of the Chassanah. I
ask you all to please join with me in opening your hearts to sharing in this joyous Mitzvah of Simchas Chosson V'Kallah.
Please be as generous as you can and share this with as many people as you can. B"H all of you have come through for me before in
terms of matters of Tzedakah and I have no doubt that you will now.
Please make ***TAX DEDUCTIBLE*** Canadian cheques out to VMM, and US cheques to Congregation Binyan Olem.
Send to:
Micha (Larry) Braun
5785 Sir Walter Scott, #303,
Cote Saint Luc, Quebec,
H4W 1S4, Canada
Anyone in Israel, please just contact me and we will see about gathering the money there, and where to send it.
MichaBraun
(514) 488-8039
Please feel free to contact me at any time for clarification about this or anything else.
Thank you again my friends, and Tizku L'mitzvos, U L'Masim Tovim, U L'Shanim Rabot!
Comedienne keeps her comedy kosher
By DAVE GORDON
Special to The CJN
Take a dollop of Jackie Mason, a dash of Jerry Seinfeld and a healthy serving of Lucille Ball’s wackiness and you have the recipe for the comedic stylings of Ayelet, an up-and-coming Jewish comic.
Like Cher and Madonna, she only goes by one name professionally. (Her last name is Ben Har.) But unlike those other entertainers, the 20something comic is completely family friendly – she doesn’t swear, tell dirty jokes or talk about sex – and, as a strictly observant Jew, she only performs in front of women.
Known as the “Kosher Komic,” she touts herself as the only “strictly kosher” comedienne in the world.
“Most comics today are not in any way clean. Jewish humour, kosher humour, is difficult, but somehow Hashem has helped me find the way to be funny and clean,” says Ayelet, who lives in Jerusalem’s Old City.
Her latest world tour runs from February to April and hits London, Toronto and the east and west coasts of the United States. She is scheduled to perform at the BAYT synagogue in Thornhill on Sunday, March 6, at 8 p.m.
Her set includes routines about children, Pesach, diets and quirky occasions in Jewish life. She also pokes fun at Britney Spears’ newfound kashrut observance and kvetches about her misadventures with shadchanim (matchmakers) – “I’ve contacted 165 shadchanim in nine different states, four different countries and personally seen over 75 of them, all in nine months.”
But she is perhaps best known among her fans for her tongue-in-cheek shtick called “Glatt Kosher Airlines.”
“All of our flights are numbered 613… Gentlemen, I hope you can hear me through the mechitzah. My voice has been altered for your protection… Should there be, chas v’chalila, a rapid change in cabin pressure, from the panel above your head will fall a Sefer Tehillim [Psalms]. Please say your own tehillim first, prior to assisting a small child, elderly passenger or recent baal tshuvah seated next to you.”
Ayelet wasn’t always what she calls the “ultra-Orthodox girl with bulletproof stockings.”
She’s been a performer for about 10 years, having bounced between New York and Los Angeles as an actress and appeared on HBO, Comedy Central and Lifetime Television, as well as on Sesame Street and The Division.
She began doing stand-up five years ago in “treif” comedy clubs across New York and Los Angeles – including such well-known comedy institutions as The Improv, Laugh Factory and the Comedy Store – before becoming observant 21/2 years ago.
She only revived her career in its new, more conservative form last year while performing in front of seminary girls in Jerusalem. She has since entertained haredi women, as well as more modern crowds – she appeared last month at a café in Jerusalem’s Baka neighbourhood, followed by a performance the following night in a private living room in the haredi Jerusalem neighbourhood of Har Nof.
“People have always told me I am very funny. I just took a while to get my courage together and get up on stage to make people laugh. But once I was up there, there was no getting me down.”
Ayelet currently works for two Jewish outreach organizations, Aish HaTorah and Isralight, where she first “found the beauty and truth in Torah, and a terrific, meaningful life.”
Ayelet has performed at seminaries, in living rooms and at shul fundraisers – but only for women.
“I have been in showbiz in the secular world. I’ve performed in front of mixed crowds, men and women. I’ve come to a point in my life where I feel that it would be most modest of me to perform only in front of women,” she says.
In doing so, Ayelet has given many observant Jewish women their first opportunity to see stand-up comedy.
Many observant Jews don’t have televisions and don’t go to movies, mostly due to sexual and violent content, thereby limiting their entertainment choices, she explains.
Ayelet says she looks up to Rachel Factor, an Orthodox Jewish convert and former Rockette who is touring with a one-woman show called JAP.
“She is an amazing Jewish woman and a terrific performer,” Ayelet says. “She has transformed her whole life and is now doing what she loves and making Jewish women happy.”
Ayelet’s CD is available at select locations, or at www.kosherkomedy.com.
Pugs Are Pigs...in Just Another Form
Our pug, Tyson, has had quite a bit said about him in this blogger's pages. Last week, I tried even to make a shidduch between him and Lizzie, some beautiful bitch on the STACEY'S SHMATA blog page. She's an older canine, a much-taller canine, and she's probably already gone through the dog-o-paws stage, so I can't really see puppies in Tyson's future...at least not with Lizzie.
But who'd want Tyson anyhow? He snores...big-time. He snorts like a pig...big-time. He passes wind...big-time. For a small guy, he's got a paunch belly...big-time. He wants to eat...all the time. And when he's not eating, not passing wind, he's sleeping and snoring the day away.
Every now and again -- today was again -- he tries to clear his sinuses. It's sort of worse than his snoring. Can you imagine an old man who unfortunately forgot some of his manners, and he's continually trying to clear his throat of phlegm? Well, that's Tyson...old boy. Maybe he thinks he's human, and at the shvitz at a health club with a dozen retirees, shooting the breeze -- literally and figuratively -- and trying to clear, like them, his nasal/throat passages.
I never did mention before that Tyson is a convert -- he went from being Roman Catholic Italian, to Modern Orthodox Jewish. No, we didn't take him to the mikvah for conversion purposes, but we did stick him in the laundry tub two years ago when he was adopted by us, and douse him with water -- we dunked him three times, but couldn't figure out which bracha to say, so we just declared: "Today you are a Jew...mazel tov."
He turned eight last week -- we hope he makes it to thirteen -- I've envisioned having a bark-mitzvah for him. Not sure what kind of d'var Torah he'd give, but everyone would wish a mazel tov and say "Canine hora! Canine hora!"
So if anyone out there has a dog they'd like to breed with a pig -- oops, I mean a pug -- contact me. Maybe we can make a shidduch.... It'd be nice to post a simcha sooner than later on www.frumster.com or www.onlysimchas.com!
But who'd want Tyson anyhow? He snores...big-time. He snorts like a pig...big-time. He passes wind...big-time. For a small guy, he's got a paunch belly...big-time. He wants to eat...all the time. And when he's not eating, not passing wind, he's sleeping and snoring the day away.
Every now and again -- today was again -- he tries to clear his sinuses. It's sort of worse than his snoring. Can you imagine an old man who unfortunately forgot some of his manners, and he's continually trying to clear his throat of phlegm? Well, that's Tyson...old boy. Maybe he thinks he's human, and at the shvitz at a health club with a dozen retirees, shooting the breeze -- literally and figuratively -- and trying to clear, like them, his nasal/throat passages.
I never did mention before that Tyson is a convert -- he went from being Roman Catholic Italian, to Modern Orthodox Jewish. No, we didn't take him to the mikvah for conversion purposes, but we did stick him in the laundry tub two years ago when he was adopted by us, and douse him with water -- we dunked him three times, but couldn't figure out which bracha to say, so we just declared: "Today you are a Jew...mazel tov."
He turned eight last week -- we hope he makes it to thirteen -- I've envisioned having a bark-mitzvah for him. Not sure what kind of d'var Torah he'd give, but everyone would wish a mazel tov and say "Canine hora! Canine hora!"
So if anyone out there has a dog they'd like to breed with a pig -- oops, I mean a pug -- contact me. Maybe we can make a shidduch.... It'd be nice to post a simcha sooner than later on www.frumster.com or www.onlysimchas.com!
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