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Click on the linking title; first I heard of this "Hollywood moment".
All I have to say is "Spielberg, if you're reading this, you should BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!"
******
An afterthought: "Der Spiegel" -- the magazine named in the linked post -- translated from German means "the mirror". Steven, can you really look at yourself in the mirror now, and say you're pleased with what you said in Tom's defense? Maybe the mirror should crack and you should get some seven years of bad luck. Does Scientology allow these wives' tales in their doctrine?
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Dial T for Telephone
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One of my sons will G-d willing turn 10 over Shavuot. I don't know where the time has flown, I just know that it has.
He was born in a downtown hospital on an early-morning Wednesday, and although we were supposed to bring him home Friday around noon, there were reasons to keep him in the hospital and put him in the neonatal intensive care unit. Imagine, bli ayin harah, a 9 1/2 lb. baby boy in among teeny tiny preemies who looked like little dolls; my son looked like a two-month old! I even came down at one point in his stay in that department to find that my little strong man had pulled out his IV from his hand. (mind you, he did the same thing 2 1/2 years later when he had an IV-type contraption in his hand for taking blood samples, gave it to the nurse and insisted we leave.)
Thank G-d, after having to stay over Shabbat in the hospital after all, but with my husband able to stay with me, we were able to bring our clean-bill-of-health firstborn home on the Sunday -- Father's Day.
I remember sitting in the back seat of the car, our precious cargo in the infant car seat beside me. I kept looking down at him, and then out at the world beyond the car window. It was a glorious, hot sunny day, and I remember seeing everything with a new perspective; it was as if I'd been reborn and had missed out on the most mundane things for the past several days as I was in the hospital.
We came home -- not as a couple, but as a family.
Now, I don't really know why I took you down Memory Lane of June 1995, but I think it's got something to do with the idea of changes/progress/maturity, so I could lead into this much-shorter tale.
This a.m. I was driving that son to school for early morning davening, and we were listening to the radio deejay. He had a caller on, who was hesitant in answering a question. The deejay said, "You just wanted to be on the air, didn't you?"
At that point, I had a flashback of a girlfriend and I continually calling radio stations when we were young teenagers, hoping the phone would ring, get picked up and our song request would be aired for all of Toronto to hear (or at least everyone who had their A.M. radio set at that moment to that particular station and was listening). So I started to tell my son, "When we were young, my friend and I would dial a radio station to--"
"What's 'dial'"? my bechor asked.
Oh, the times, they are a-changin'....
One of my sons will G-d willing turn 10 over Shavuot. I don't know where the time has flown, I just know that it has.
He was born in a downtown hospital on an early-morning Wednesday, and although we were supposed to bring him home Friday around noon, there were reasons to keep him in the hospital and put him in the neonatal intensive care unit. Imagine, bli ayin harah, a 9 1/2 lb. baby boy in among teeny tiny preemies who looked like little dolls; my son looked like a two-month old! I even came down at one point in his stay in that department to find that my little strong man had pulled out his IV from his hand. (mind you, he did the same thing 2 1/2 years later when he had an IV-type contraption in his hand for taking blood samples, gave it to the nurse and insisted we leave.)
Thank G-d, after having to stay over Shabbat in the hospital after all, but with my husband able to stay with me, we were able to bring our clean-bill-of-health firstborn home on the Sunday -- Father's Day.
I remember sitting in the back seat of the car, our precious cargo in the infant car seat beside me. I kept looking down at him, and then out at the world beyond the car window. It was a glorious, hot sunny day, and I remember seeing everything with a new perspective; it was as if I'd been reborn and had missed out on the most mundane things for the past several days as I was in the hospital.
We came home -- not as a couple, but as a family.
Now, I don't really know why I took you down Memory Lane of June 1995, but I think it's got something to do with the idea of changes/progress/maturity, so I could lead into this much-shorter tale.
This a.m. I was driving that son to school for early morning davening, and we were listening to the radio deejay. He had a caller on, who was hesitant in answering a question. The deejay said, "You just wanted to be on the air, didn't you?"
At that point, I had a flashback of a girlfriend and I continually calling radio stations when we were young teenagers, hoping the phone would ring, get picked up and our song request would be aired for all of Toronto to hear (or at least everyone who had their A.M. radio set at that moment to that particular station and was listening). So I started to tell my son, "When we were young, my friend and I would dial a radio station to--"
"What's 'dial'"? my bechor asked.
Oh, the times, they are a-changin'....
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
The Star Wars Jew
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I am not a Star Wars fanatic -- or fan -- in the least, but I know that many of you readers are. So I decided I'll share this cute piece that appeared in the Jewish Journal (Los Angeles).
2005-05-27
‘Star Wars’ for Jews
by Adam Wills, Associate Editor
I was out communing with the nerds last weekend, contributing to the $158.5 million record four-day opening for “Revenge of the Sith.” Now that the series is over and done with (at least until George Lucas launches his live-action “Star Wars” television series), I began reflecting on all things Jewish in the saga set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Even though Lucas considers himself a “Buddhist Methodist,” and many of the themes from the series are inspired by the universal mythic structure explored by writer Joseph Campbell, there are some elements in the series that are undeniably Jewish.
Is Darth Vader a Kohen?
Even though it’s too small to see on screen, part of Darth Vader’s chestplate features three lines of Hebrew, one of which appears to be upside down. What the lines say is a matter of much online debate among Jewish “Star Wars” fans. On TheForce.net, which features photos of the Hebrew script in question, one blogger believes it’s a play on a section from Exodus 16 about repentance, while another thinks the lines read: “His actions/deeds will not be forgiven until he is proven innocent” and “One shall be regarded innocent until he is proven guilty.”
May the Fast Be With You
Much like nonpracticing Jews, many of the folks in the “Star Wars” universe invoke their belief in the Force, a God-like energy that permeates every living thing, typically when a situation seems dire or when luck is needed. And even though there aren’t that many Jedi, the only people who seem to practice this faith on a day-to-day basis, the Order has an opulent temple.
Once Anakin Skywalker was done offing the Jedi order in “Sith,” I pondered why they would have bothered to construct such an obscenely large facility, especially considering that each time it’s featured in the films the structure is obviously not being filled to capacity. Then it dawned on me: the High Holidays.
Shylock in Space
Lucas was criticized for being fairly politically incorrect with his aliens in “The Phantom Menace,” from the Japanese-sounding Neimodians and the grammatically strained Jamaican gobbledygook of the Gungans. But the character most offensive to Jews was the flying alien Watto, the bearded, Eastern European-accented slave owner of the Skywalker family, who comes off as a greedy Jewish merchant. To paraphrase Jar Jar Binks: Mesa farklempt.
Yoda: In the ‘Know’
The name of the pint-sized Jedi Muppet, voiced by Jewish actor-director Frank Oz, translates as “the one who knows” in Hebrew. Yes, but when that knowledge is delivered in a way that’s reminiscent of a bad fortune cookie, it’s difficult to take seriously.
Jedi Jew
Anakin Skywalker’s story is quintessentially Jewish. He starts off as a cute kid everyone thinks will grow up to be the messiah. When he finishes studying with the rabbi (Obi-Wan Kenobi), he disappoints everyone by dropping out of the shul and falling in with the wrong crowd. In his old age he ends up a ba’al teshuvah.
C3PO, Bar Mitzvah Boy
After the Rebel Alliance landing party is captured by the Ewoks on Endor in “Return of the Jedi,” Luke Skywalker levitates the chair C3PO is sitting in to convince the fuzzy creatures that the protocol droid is a god. The only thing missing from this scene: a round of “Hava Nagila” and Ewoks dancing in circles.
Jewish Chicks Kick Butt
In the prequels, we have Natalie Portman, an Israeli-born Jew, playing Luke and Leia’s mother, Padmé Naberrie Amidala. While she fought beasties and looked fabulous doing it in a slinky white cat suit in “Attack of the Clones,” Amidala never displayed the same feistiness that made Leia stand out in the original films.
Carrie Fisher, Jewish on her estranged father’s side, played against the Jewish American Princess stereotype as the gun-toting, take-charge Princess Leia Organa. Never one to shy away from a fight, Leia, in a very Judith-like way, seizes on an opportunity and strangles Jabba the Hutt to save her own people in “Return of the Jedi.”
Even if the “Star Wars” saga wasn’t written specifically with Jews in mind, the theme of good versus evil set in an alien universe speaks to the American Jewish experience. Like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, we must often choose between the comfortable complacency of assimilation and the risks associated with membership in a noble but highly misunderstood path to repairing the universe.
May the tikkun olam be with you.
I am not a Star Wars fanatic -- or fan -- in the least, but I know that many of you readers are. So I decided I'll share this cute piece that appeared in the Jewish Journal (Los Angeles).
2005-05-27
‘Star Wars’ for Jews
by Adam Wills, Associate Editor
I was out communing with the nerds last weekend, contributing to the $158.5 million record four-day opening for “Revenge of the Sith.” Now that the series is over and done with (at least until George Lucas launches his live-action “Star Wars” television series), I began reflecting on all things Jewish in the saga set a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Even though Lucas considers himself a “Buddhist Methodist,” and many of the themes from the series are inspired by the universal mythic structure explored by writer Joseph Campbell, there are some elements in the series that are undeniably Jewish.
Is Darth Vader a Kohen?
Even though it’s too small to see on screen, part of Darth Vader’s chestplate features three lines of Hebrew, one of which appears to be upside down. What the lines say is a matter of much online debate among Jewish “Star Wars” fans. On TheForce.net, which features photos of the Hebrew script in question, one blogger believes it’s a play on a section from Exodus 16 about repentance, while another thinks the lines read: “His actions/deeds will not be forgiven until he is proven innocent” and “One shall be regarded innocent until he is proven guilty.”
May the Fast Be With You
Much like nonpracticing Jews, many of the folks in the “Star Wars” universe invoke their belief in the Force, a God-like energy that permeates every living thing, typically when a situation seems dire or when luck is needed. And even though there aren’t that many Jedi, the only people who seem to practice this faith on a day-to-day basis, the Order has an opulent temple.
Once Anakin Skywalker was done offing the Jedi order in “Sith,” I pondered why they would have bothered to construct such an obscenely large facility, especially considering that each time it’s featured in the films the structure is obviously not being filled to capacity. Then it dawned on me: the High Holidays.
Shylock in Space
Lucas was criticized for being fairly politically incorrect with his aliens in “The Phantom Menace,” from the Japanese-sounding Neimodians and the grammatically strained Jamaican gobbledygook of the Gungans. But the character most offensive to Jews was the flying alien Watto, the bearded, Eastern European-accented slave owner of the Skywalker family, who comes off as a greedy Jewish merchant. To paraphrase Jar Jar Binks: Mesa farklempt.
Yoda: In the ‘Know’
The name of the pint-sized Jedi Muppet, voiced by Jewish actor-director Frank Oz, translates as “the one who knows” in Hebrew. Yes, but when that knowledge is delivered in a way that’s reminiscent of a bad fortune cookie, it’s difficult to take seriously.
Jedi Jew
Anakin Skywalker’s story is quintessentially Jewish. He starts off as a cute kid everyone thinks will grow up to be the messiah. When he finishes studying with the rabbi (Obi-Wan Kenobi), he disappoints everyone by dropping out of the shul and falling in with the wrong crowd. In his old age he ends up a ba’al teshuvah.
C3PO, Bar Mitzvah Boy
After the Rebel Alliance landing party is captured by the Ewoks on Endor in “Return of the Jedi,” Luke Skywalker levitates the chair C3PO is sitting in to convince the fuzzy creatures that the protocol droid is a god. The only thing missing from this scene: a round of “Hava Nagila” and Ewoks dancing in circles.
Jewish Chicks Kick Butt
In the prequels, we have Natalie Portman, an Israeli-born Jew, playing Luke and Leia’s mother, Padmé Naberrie Amidala. While she fought beasties and looked fabulous doing it in a slinky white cat suit in “Attack of the Clones,” Amidala never displayed the same feistiness that made Leia stand out in the original films.
Carrie Fisher, Jewish on her estranged father’s side, played against the Jewish American Princess stereotype as the gun-toting, take-charge Princess Leia Organa. Never one to shy away from a fight, Leia, in a very Judith-like way, seizes on an opportunity and strangles Jabba the Hutt to save her own people in “Return of the Jedi.”
Even if the “Star Wars” saga wasn’t written specifically with Jews in mind, the theme of good versus evil set in an alien universe speaks to the American Jewish experience. Like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, we must often choose between the comfortable complacency of assimilation and the risks associated with membership in a noble but highly misunderstood path to repairing the universe.
May the tikkun olam be with you.
Lincoln Place Lullaby
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Many many years ago, my mother's aunt through marriage had a sister who was in a local Jewish nursing home. At the time, she was rather "out of it" but nonetheless my mother made it a point to visit the woman, and a number of times I joined her for a visit.
This one particular time, I sat in the floor's lounge, waiting because the woman we'd come to see was sleeping. So I sat there and observed the residents. And then I began to write down what I was seeing and hearing, and after I got home, I incorporated what I'd jotted down into a poem. It is called "Lincoln Place Lullaby."
Oy. Where am I?
Vey. Where are you?
Iz. What is this place?
Mir. What’s going on?
What do we do here?
What are we doing here?
Why am I here?
Where are you please, Lydia?
How could they do this to me?
How could they?
Lydia,
I’d like to go down please.
I would like to go home, please, Nurse.
I’m not home.
I don’t belong in here, that’s for sure.
Nobody takes any notice.
I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.
Oy. Never.
Vey. Never.
Iz. Never.
Mir. Never.
“Hey, take that damn record off, will ya! It’s skipping.”
Many many years ago, my mother's aunt through marriage had a sister who was in a local Jewish nursing home. At the time, she was rather "out of it" but nonetheless my mother made it a point to visit the woman, and a number of times I joined her for a visit.
This one particular time, I sat in the floor's lounge, waiting because the woman we'd come to see was sleeping. So I sat there and observed the residents. And then I began to write down what I was seeing and hearing, and after I got home, I incorporated what I'd jotted down into a poem. It is called "Lincoln Place Lullaby."
Oy. Where am I?
Vey. Where are you?
Iz. What is this place?
Mir. What’s going on?
What do we do here?
What are we doing here?
Why am I here?
Where are you please, Lydia?
How could they do this to me?
How could they?
Lydia,
I’d like to go down please.
I would like to go home, please, Nurse.
I’m not home.
I don’t belong in here, that’s for sure.
Nobody takes any notice.
I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.
Oy. Never.
Vey. Never.
Iz. Never.
Mir. Never.
“Hey, take that damn record off, will ya! It’s skipping.”
Monday, May 30, 2005
Moving On
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Regarding some of my posts over the past several months, one might think that I thrive on sadness or tragedy or life's difficult challenges. Such is not the case. I have just always been a thinking, feeling person -- my heart bleeds very easily for people, even people I do not know. My feelings of empathy and compassion are strong and sometimes overshadow my thoughts. But I cannot help that.
It is certainly not as if I grew up in a depressing environment, even while being a child of a survivor. Love and laughter have always prevailed in my parents' home, and certainly now in my own.
But I guess I often stop to smell the roses even if I've cut myself with its thorns...
Do read Glen Holman's personal blog, Moving On. He has words to share with you -- words describing love...loss...and love.
Regarding some of my posts over the past several months, one might think that I thrive on sadness or tragedy or life's difficult challenges. Such is not the case. I have just always been a thinking, feeling person -- my heart bleeds very easily for people, even people I do not know. My feelings of empathy and compassion are strong and sometimes overshadow my thoughts. But I cannot help that.
It is certainly not as if I grew up in a depressing environment, even while being a child of a survivor. Love and laughter have always prevailed in my parents' home, and certainly now in my own.
But I guess I often stop to smell the roses even if I've cut myself with its thorns...
Do read Glen Holman's personal blog, Moving On. He has words to share with you -- words describing love...loss...and love.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
UNITEd We Stand
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So today was the Walk for Israel walkathon. I don't know numbers, but let's just say thousands of people gathered at a park at the lakefront where it started, wearing their T-shirts, touting Israeli flags on knapsacks, wagons, carriages, backsides and even on faces. Dignitaries speak at the beginning of the walk, there are inflatable rides and amusements for the kids, the world's largest hora is attempted and the fever is set.
It is a beautiful thing to march in with friends, neighbors -- and countrymen. And what is even nicer is when you have non-Jews who march in solidarity with us, some representing Christian causes, others just feeling pro-Israel and letting the Jews know it.
Many groups and schools and synagogues are represented -- it is really a cross section of the community in this city who come out to this event and help make it what it is. Lubavitcher men approach male participants of bar-mitzvah age to ask them if they'd like to lay Tefillin, Jews for Judasim folks are out, ready to hand out brochures if they meet up to Jews for Jesus missionaries.
I've lived in this city my entire life, so I get to see people who have crossed my path my entire life, whether from day school, high school, university, jobs, shuls, parenting groups -- to share in a commitment is a special thing, and I think we all know it when we're walking across the lower part of the city together for a few hours.
I have fond memories of the "Walks for Israel" that I participated in when I was a young girl -- the route took us through just about the whole city and took an entire day to complete, if we were lucky. So, yes, of course they were longer as well. But whether the route or the mileage differed, the cause has always been the same: raise money for Israel to help nurture this still-growing country and make it the best it can possibly be. In doing so, bring out Jews from the Toronto woodwork who join in a common cause.
Am Yisrael Chai!
So today was the Walk for Israel walkathon. I don't know numbers, but let's just say thousands of people gathered at a park at the lakefront where it started, wearing their T-shirts, touting Israeli flags on knapsacks, wagons, carriages, backsides and even on faces. Dignitaries speak at the beginning of the walk, there are inflatable rides and amusements for the kids, the world's largest hora is attempted and the fever is set.
It is a beautiful thing to march in with friends, neighbors -- and countrymen. And what is even nicer is when you have non-Jews who march in solidarity with us, some representing Christian causes, others just feeling pro-Israel and letting the Jews know it.
Many groups and schools and synagogues are represented -- it is really a cross section of the community in this city who come out to this event and help make it what it is. Lubavitcher men approach male participants of bar-mitzvah age to ask them if they'd like to lay Tefillin, Jews for Judasim folks are out, ready to hand out brochures if they meet up to Jews for Jesus missionaries.
I've lived in this city my entire life, so I get to see people who have crossed my path my entire life, whether from day school, high school, university, jobs, shuls, parenting groups -- to share in a commitment is a special thing, and I think we all know it when we're walking across the lower part of the city together for a few hours.
I have fond memories of the "Walks for Israel" that I participated in when I was a young girl -- the route took us through just about the whole city and took an entire day to complete, if we were lucky. So, yes, of course they were longer as well. But whether the route or the mileage differed, the cause has always been the same: raise money for Israel to help nurture this still-growing country and make it the best it can possibly be. In doing so, bring out Jews from the Toronto woodwork who join in a common cause.
Am Yisrael Chai!
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Holiday Weekend
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Hello, Americans. This is a post to you because I think most of my readers are Americans...or ex-Americans living in Toronto!
I hope today was a lovely start to your weekend...your long weekend: Memorial Day.
We Canadians had our weekend last weekend, Victoria Day, complete with fireworks -- some public displays on Sunday night, others on Monday night. But most people don't associate the weekend with anything other than fireworks, bar-be-ques, beer, no work on Monday. They forget the holiday is named for Queen Victoria...our country's "grandmother".
You Americans on the other hand might also associate the weekend with bar-be-ques and beer and no work on Monday -- I don't know if fireworks are lit. But you also make a beautiful point of associating the weekend with memories...of veterans...who helped fight your wars and keep your country free and safe. I don't know if you have fireworks, but I do know that you have local parades, with citizens showing their pride, waving their flags, displaying their patriotism on their sleeve and on their chests with medals and ribbons and the like.
Kerckhoff Coffeehouse's blogging buddy of mine, Doctor Bean, said it beautifully in his post the other day:
In Grateful Memory
I have dozens of work and family obligations to fulfill before this weekend, but it would be wrong to let Memorial Day come without some reflection on its meaning.
I own my home and my own business because of property rights we usually take for granted that do not exist in many countries. I worship as I please, which can not be said in Saudi Arabia or Yemen. My family is safe, which would not be true in much of Africa. I can criticize my government publicly, and frequently do right here in the Coffeehouse, which would be a criminal act in China.
These freedoms are the bedrock of our lives upon which everything else is built. Our families, our individual traditions, our professions and our leisure would all be swept aside in an instant if tyranny replaced liberty.
All these abundant blessings were bought with the lives of American soldiers. On Memorial Day, we stop to realize this; we honor their sacrifice; we offer our heartfelt thanks to the families who grieve for the loss which helped sustain our nation. May we all strive to live in a way that is worthy of such sacrifice.
Here's a concrete way we can show our appreciation. I'm going to ask ball-and-chain to break out a credit card and donate to one of these. Please do the same.
Operation Hero Miles. Donate frequent flier miles to our troops.
Any Soldier. Send a care package to an American soldier in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Operation Gratitude. Send a care package to a U.S. soldier
I applaud you Americans, the vets and the citizens who've stood behind them over the years. You help make your country a colorful one and I tip my hat to you.
Happy Memorial Day!
*********
BTW, you folks had better be celebrating because my reading "stats" were quite low yesterday (today was Shabbos, so that usually lowers the numbers), and I'm guessing they might be the same for the next two days. But don't forget about me; you can read my words (old or new) once you're back at your jobs on Tuesday and need something to do besides WORK, or instead of it. (PsychoToddler, Air Time, Just Passing Through, Still Wonderin', Doctor Bean -- yeah, I'm talking to you.)
And tomorrow is our community-wide annual walk for Israel, a big and very fun to-do with family and friends. Hope the weather cooperates, hope my legs cooperate and hope my kids cooperate. "Right, left, yemin, smol, right left, yemin, smol...!"
Hello, Americans. This is a post to you because I think most of my readers are Americans...or ex-Americans living in Toronto!
I hope today was a lovely start to your weekend...your long weekend: Memorial Day.
We Canadians had our weekend last weekend, Victoria Day, complete with fireworks -- some public displays on Sunday night, others on Monday night. But most people don't associate the weekend with anything other than fireworks, bar-be-ques, beer, no work on Monday. They forget the holiday is named for Queen Victoria...our country's "grandmother".
You Americans on the other hand might also associate the weekend with bar-be-ques and beer and no work on Monday -- I don't know if fireworks are lit. But you also make a beautiful point of associating the weekend with memories...of veterans...who helped fight your wars and keep your country free and safe. I don't know if you have fireworks, but I do know that you have local parades, with citizens showing their pride, waving their flags, displaying their patriotism on their sleeve and on their chests with medals and ribbons and the like.
Kerckhoff Coffeehouse's blogging buddy of mine, Doctor Bean, said it beautifully in his post the other day:
In Grateful Memory
I have dozens of work and family obligations to fulfill before this weekend, but it would be wrong to let Memorial Day come without some reflection on its meaning.
I own my home and my own business because of property rights we usually take for granted that do not exist in many countries. I worship as I please, which can not be said in Saudi Arabia or Yemen. My family is safe, which would not be true in much of Africa. I can criticize my government publicly, and frequently do right here in the Coffeehouse, which would be a criminal act in China.
These freedoms are the bedrock of our lives upon which everything else is built. Our families, our individual traditions, our professions and our leisure would all be swept aside in an instant if tyranny replaced liberty.
All these abundant blessings were bought with the lives of American soldiers. On Memorial Day, we stop to realize this; we honor their sacrifice; we offer our heartfelt thanks to the families who grieve for the loss which helped sustain our nation. May we all strive to live in a way that is worthy of such sacrifice.
Here's a concrete way we can show our appreciation. I'm going to ask ball-and-chain to break out a credit card and donate to one of these. Please do the same.
Operation Hero Miles. Donate frequent flier miles to our troops.
Any Soldier. Send a care package to an American soldier in Iraq or Afghanistan.
Operation Gratitude. Send a care package to a U.S. soldier
I applaud you Americans, the vets and the citizens who've stood behind them over the years. You help make your country a colorful one and I tip my hat to you.
Happy Memorial Day!
*********
BTW, you folks had better be celebrating because my reading "stats" were quite low yesterday (today was Shabbos, so that usually lowers the numbers), and I'm guessing they might be the same for the next two days. But don't forget about me; you can read my words (old or new) once you're back at your jobs on Tuesday and need something to do besides WORK, or instead of it. (PsychoToddler, Air Time, Just Passing Through, Still Wonderin', Doctor Bean -- yeah, I'm talking to you.)
And tomorrow is our community-wide annual walk for Israel, a big and very fun to-do with family and friends. Hope the weather cooperates, hope my legs cooperate and hope my kids cooperate. "Right, left, yemin, smol, right left, yemin, smol...!"
Friday, May 27, 2005
The Latest Hit Parade
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K-Tel (R) Records is proud to present this compilation of the hottest hits. Look for some of your favorite songs, reworked just for you!
You Light Up My Blog -- Debby Boone
Whole Lotta Blog -- Led Zeppelin
Mother and Blog Reunion -- Paul Simon
Hard To Blog I'm Sorry -- Chicago
Blog Man -- Sam & Dave version AND The Blues Bros. version
I Blog for You -- Chaka Khan
Blog It -- Devo
Blogger's Delight -- Sugar Hill Gang
Oh, What a Blog! -- Irene Cara
American Blog -- Don McLean
Blog 'Round the Clock -- Bill Haley & the Comets
Blog with You -- Michael Jackson
Rock the Blog -- the Hues Corporation
How Deep Is Your Blog? -- the Bee Gees
The Blog from Ipanema -- Joao Gilberto
and featuring that famous hit Get Off My Blog -- the Rolling Stones.
Run, don't walk to the nearest music store to get this collection. It'll be flying off the shelves before you know it.
K-Tel (R) Records is proud to present this compilation of the hottest hits. Look for some of your favorite songs, reworked just for you!
You Light Up My Blog -- Debby Boone
Whole Lotta Blog -- Led Zeppelin
Mother and Blog Reunion -- Paul Simon
Hard To Blog I'm Sorry -- Chicago
Blog Man -- Sam & Dave version AND The Blues Bros. version
I Blog for You -- Chaka Khan
Blog It -- Devo
Blogger's Delight -- Sugar Hill Gang
Oh, What a Blog! -- Irene Cara
American Blog -- Don McLean
Blog 'Round the Clock -- Bill Haley & the Comets
Blog with You -- Michael Jackson
Rock the Blog -- the Hues Corporation
How Deep Is Your Blog? -- the Bee Gees
The Blog from Ipanema -- Joao Gilberto
and featuring that famous hit Get Off My Blog -- the Rolling Stones.
Run, don't walk to the nearest music store to get this collection. It'll be flying off the shelves before you know it.
What Are You Dangling These Days...?
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GOTCHA! (with that title, didn't I?) Nothing perverted here; if that's what you're looking for, link elsewhere!
While driving in to work this a.m. my mind got stuck on the notion of items people have dangling from their car's rearview mirrors.
I've seen fuzzy dice, rosary beads, keychains, garage door openers, "artwork" that children have made, baby shoes, blessings.
I have something hanging that my friend once sent from Israel--no doubt a freebie for her, considered to be a gift for me... It's a heart-shaped laminated card with a Tefillat ha-Derech (The Traveler's Prayer). How do I know it was a freebie, you wonder? Because on the other side of the prayer, there's an advertisement for some product, but I never read the small Hebrew print to learn what the product actually is. But the advertisement, translated from the Hebrew, reads: "Mother, you promised us chicken for this Shabbat!"
How is it that for the Jews everything comes back to FOOD?
"Okay, kids, we're leaving the city limits now. Let's say Tefillat ha-Derech...and then let's break out those chicken sandwiches!"
*******************
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom, and here's hoping you all get to have chicken.
GOTCHA! (with that title, didn't I?) Nothing perverted here; if that's what you're looking for, link elsewhere!
While driving in to work this a.m. my mind got stuck on the notion of items people have dangling from their car's rearview mirrors.
I've seen fuzzy dice, rosary beads, keychains, garage door openers, "artwork" that children have made, baby shoes, blessings.
I have something hanging that my friend once sent from Israel--no doubt a freebie for her, considered to be a gift for me... It's a heart-shaped laminated card with a Tefillat ha-Derech (The Traveler's Prayer). How do I know it was a freebie, you wonder? Because on the other side of the prayer, there's an advertisement for some product, but I never read the small Hebrew print to learn what the product actually is. But the advertisement, translated from the Hebrew, reads: "Mother, you promised us chicken for this Shabbat!"
How is it that for the Jews everything comes back to FOOD?
"Okay, kids, we're leaving the city limits now. Let's say Tefillat ha-Derech...and then let's break out those chicken sandwiches!"
*******************
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom, and here's hoping you all get to have chicken.
"Gehrls Just Wanna Have Fun"
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I am about to talk about my youngest child, a five-year-old; I don't mean to embarrass him, although I am bringing one of his weaknesses to light. But this "weakness" is also a MOST ENDEARING AND SWEET ATTRIBUTE OF HIS, so in my mind I am elevating his sweetness for you.
The other day, when I posted about "A Whole New World," I got a comment from Rochelle who said that her granddaughter, although she lives in Los Angeles, sings the song, pronouncing it as "A Whole New Woild" -- a taste of Brooklyn.
I couldn't help but think of my own little one who cannot pronounce my name properly nor the word "girl." Now "girl" and "Pearl" rhyme with each other, and one would think they're easy to say. But not for him!
For reasons beyond my comprehension, N seems to have a Scottish brogue when he says these words. He rolls his R's, so "girls" becomes more like "gehrls" and "Pearl" becomes "Pehrl." I try to work with him on his pronunciation but at the same time am amused by this quirky stylistic "thing" of his.
What's even more interesting is that lately I've been listening to myself when I speak. And, just like N, who seems to use inflection at the end of every statement, and tags his statement with "Yeah?", I've started to do it. For example, saying, "We're going to finish our homework today, kids...yeah?"
Not too long ago, I'd reached a point in my life when I panicked and thought: "I'm becoming my mother!" These days I'm sort of laughing and thinking: "I'm becoming my five-year-old!"
Yeah, that's right -- this gehrl Pehrl just wants to have fun...
I am about to talk about my youngest child, a five-year-old; I don't mean to embarrass him, although I am bringing one of his weaknesses to light. But this "weakness" is also a MOST ENDEARING AND SWEET ATTRIBUTE OF HIS, so in my mind I am elevating his sweetness for you.
The other day, when I posted about "A Whole New World," I got a comment from Rochelle who said that her granddaughter, although she lives in Los Angeles, sings the song, pronouncing it as "A Whole New Woild" -- a taste of Brooklyn.
I couldn't help but think of my own little one who cannot pronounce my name properly nor the word "girl." Now "girl" and "Pearl" rhyme with each other, and one would think they're easy to say. But not for him!
For reasons beyond my comprehension, N seems to have a Scottish brogue when he says these words. He rolls his R's, so "girls" becomes more like "gehrls" and "Pearl" becomes "Pehrl." I try to work with him on his pronunciation but at the same time am amused by this quirky stylistic "thing" of his.
What's even more interesting is that lately I've been listening to myself when I speak. And, just like N, who seems to use inflection at the end of every statement, and tags his statement with "Yeah?", I've started to do it. For example, saying, "We're going to finish our homework today, kids...yeah?"
Not too long ago, I'd reached a point in my life when I panicked and thought: "I'm becoming my mother!" These days I'm sort of laughing and thinking: "I'm becoming my five-year-old!"
Yeah, that's right -- this gehrl Pehrl just wants to have fun...
Thursday, May 26, 2005
nbc.com
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Hey, someone over at nbc.com linked to my "Bloggers Anonymous Wannabe" post a short while ago, referred to by jrants.com.
Hey, who are you, nbc.com? I have a show I'd like to pitch to you. It's a show about a blog. But in reality it's about NOTHING. "Yeah, a show about nothing. It can work. We'll make it work!"
So, someone over at nbc.com, who linked to my site, when can we set up a meeting? Have your people call my people. Better yet, have your people send a comment to my blog!
Hey, someone over at nbc.com linked to my "Bloggers Anonymous Wannabe" post a short while ago, referred to by jrants.com.
Hey, who are you, nbc.com? I have a show I'd like to pitch to you. It's a show about a blog. But in reality it's about NOTHING. "Yeah, a show about nothing. It can work. We'll make it work!"
So, someone over at nbc.com, who linked to my site, when can we set up a meeting? Have your people call my people. Better yet, have your people send a comment to my blog!
Bloggers Anonymous Wannabe
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Fellow blogger Neil Fleischmann, of NY's Funniest Rabbi fame (see link in margin) posted this wonderful scenario.
I hate to admit it, but I'm supposed to be at that meeting...right now, at 12:55 a.m.
Care to join me at Bloggers Anonymous?
"Hello my name is {YOUR NAME HERE} and I'm a blogger."
All: "Hi, {YOUR NAME HERE}
"I started out slowly. Someone told me I'd like it so I got a blogspot blog. It was free. I figured why not. I posted...I thought that was it. But a few days later I went back. Then I went back the next day. Before I knew it I was posting several times a day. Then I got my first comment. I'll never forget the rush...I was hooked. I started checking regularly for comments. Commenting on other blogs... hoping they'd visit mine. Then I stopped leaving the house because I needed to blog. Then I started skipping meals...staying up all night. Then a friend told me about these meetings. At first I said I could stop whenever I wanted, that some people had blog addictions but not me. Then they turned my electricity off because I didn't pay because all I was doing was the blog. The blog became a blob... taking over my life. So I joined a friend for a meeting, just to see, not because I was ready to admit my problem. And I couldn't believe the similar stories I read. People from far away... Texas and Toronto... with stories that sounded so much like mine. Computers needed fixing, books needed editing, students needed to be taught, but they all fell to the wayside because of THE BLOG. But then I saw people getting better... through the meetings. We will always be bloggers. But there is a force bigger than ourselves, even bigger than technical support. We must give ourselves over to the program. If you're in this chat room for the first time know... there is hope. Thank you.
~ copyrighted by Rabbi Neil Fleischmann 2005 ~
Fellow blogger Neil Fleischmann, of NY's Funniest Rabbi fame (see link in margin) posted this wonderful scenario.
I hate to admit it, but I'm supposed to be at that meeting...right now, at 12:55 a.m.
Care to join me at Bloggers Anonymous?
"Hello my name is {YOUR NAME HERE} and I'm a blogger."
All: "Hi, {YOUR NAME HERE}
"I started out slowly. Someone told me I'd like it so I got a blogspot blog. It was free. I figured why not. I posted...I thought that was it. But a few days later I went back. Then I went back the next day. Before I knew it I was posting several times a day. Then I got my first comment. I'll never forget the rush...I was hooked. I started checking regularly for comments. Commenting on other blogs... hoping they'd visit mine. Then I stopped leaving the house because I needed to blog. Then I started skipping meals...staying up all night. Then a friend told me about these meetings. At first I said I could stop whenever I wanted, that some people had blog addictions but not me. Then they turned my electricity off because I didn't pay because all I was doing was the blog. The blog became a blob... taking over my life. So I joined a friend for a meeting, just to see, not because I was ready to admit my problem. And I couldn't believe the similar stories I read. People from far away... Texas and Toronto... with stories that sounded so much like mine. Computers needed fixing, books needed editing, students needed to be taught, but they all fell to the wayside because of THE BLOG. But then I saw people getting better... through the meetings. We will always be bloggers. But there is a force bigger than ourselves, even bigger than technical support. We must give ourselves over to the program. If you're in this chat room for the first time know... there is hope. Thank you.
~ copyrighted by Rabbi Neil Fleischmann 2005 ~
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
It All Comes Out in the...Comments
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When I feel that I need to laugh in the middle of the day, I just click on some of my favorite blogs. Some of these bloggers have me bursting out in laughter or silently grinning from ear to ear behind the walls of my work cubby -- oops, I mean office.
There are dynamics at work amongst these bloggers that work wonderfully together.
Do check out the blogs and comments of Treppenwitz, Jack's Shack, PsychoToddler and Doctor Bean and his gang. You will see overlaps throughout these comments and the same familiar names popping up on all of them. One would think that these folks have been pals forever, but that is not the case (except for Doctor Bean and some of his "pallies" -- and wife); they are strangers in a strange land, and have become stranger for the experience. But they're most amusing and it's a breath of fresh air.
Another set of bloggers who are newer to the scene and to my list of faves work equally well in unison/tandem. They are Air Time, Still Wonderin', Just Passin' Through and sometimes OrthoMom. Some of these folks know each other, others pretend to know each other, but they all make beautiful comments together.
Do check out these people for your cheap entertainment.
One of these days, you might even notice me commenting on a blog near you. Just ask around; my puns are better than yours. Na, na, na, na, na, na!
When I feel that I need to laugh in the middle of the day, I just click on some of my favorite blogs. Some of these bloggers have me bursting out in laughter or silently grinning from ear to ear behind the walls of my work cubby -- oops, I mean office.
There are dynamics at work amongst these bloggers that work wonderfully together.
Do check out the blogs and comments of Treppenwitz, Jack's Shack, PsychoToddler and Doctor Bean and his gang. You will see overlaps throughout these comments and the same familiar names popping up on all of them. One would think that these folks have been pals forever, but that is not the case (except for Doctor Bean and some of his "pallies" -- and wife); they are strangers in a strange land, and have become stranger for the experience. But they're most amusing and it's a breath of fresh air.
Another set of bloggers who are newer to the scene and to my list of faves work equally well in unison/tandem. They are Air Time, Still Wonderin', Just Passin' Through and sometimes OrthoMom. Some of these folks know each other, others pretend to know each other, but they all make beautiful comments together.
Do check out these people for your cheap entertainment.
One of these days, you might even notice me commenting on a blog near you. Just ask around; my puns are better than yours. Na, na, na, na, na, na!
All Roads Lead to Here
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People, I'm brainstorming and I need help. I want to find alternatives for naming streets. So far I've come up with Place, Street, Avenue, Road, Boulevard, Crescent, Court, Gate, Way, Gardens, Circle, Lane.
Do you have any other suggestions? Think of where you live -- anything different to what I mentioned above?
People, I'm brainstorming and I need help. I want to find alternatives for naming streets. So far I've come up with Place, Street, Avenue, Road, Boulevard, Crescent, Court, Gate, Way, Gardens, Circle, Lane.
Do you have any other suggestions? Think of where you live -- anything different to what I mentioned above?
Guard Your Tongue
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I've talked about "lashon harah" before in my posts and how my parents tried to drill it in us to not speak ill of someone and to watch what we say and how we say it.
This morning, I got the following mailing from www.aish.com. It is a pearl of wisdom that is not my own, but one I wish to share with you.
Their tongue is like a sharp arrow (Jeremiah 9:7).
Some people would never physically injure another person. The sight or even the thought of violence makes them cringe. They may not realize that their words can cause more damage than their fists ever could. A physical injury eventually heals and may even be forgotten, but an insulting word can penetrate to the depths of someone's being and continue to reverberate, long after a mere physical wound would have healed.
I have seen this phenomenon in my own practice. Many children are spanked by their parents. Still, with the exception of cases of severe abuse, my patients rarely, if ever, mention the spanking as a trauma. Not so with degrading words. After thirty or more years, patients will remember having been called "stupid," "rotten," or "a no-good bum." A child who was not spanked, but was instead disciplined with shame and made to feel that he or she was a disgrace, is likely to retain that feeling for decades and may harbor an attitude of shame that affects everything that he or she does.
While we are taught to refrain from striking out in anger, we are far less restrained when it comes to verbal lashings. Whether we direct them towards spouses, children, or peers, we should be aware of the impact that words can have. The verse cited above correctly describes the tongue as a sharp, penetrating arrow, which can be every bit as lethal as any physical weapon.
Some people have a wise custom. When they become angry, they clamp their lips tightly. The anger will safely dissipate and the words which could have stung for years never come out.
Today I shall ...
... try to avoid words that may be injurious to another person.
I've talked about "lashon harah" before in my posts and how my parents tried to drill it in us to not speak ill of someone and to watch what we say and how we say it.
This morning, I got the following mailing from www.aish.com. It is a pearl of wisdom that is not my own, but one I wish to share with you.
Their tongue is like a sharp arrow (Jeremiah 9:7).
Some people would never physically injure another person. The sight or even the thought of violence makes them cringe. They may not realize that their words can cause more damage than their fists ever could. A physical injury eventually heals and may even be forgotten, but an insulting word can penetrate to the depths of someone's being and continue to reverberate, long after a mere physical wound would have healed.
I have seen this phenomenon in my own practice. Many children are spanked by their parents. Still, with the exception of cases of severe abuse, my patients rarely, if ever, mention the spanking as a trauma. Not so with degrading words. After thirty or more years, patients will remember having been called "stupid," "rotten," or "a no-good bum." A child who was not spanked, but was instead disciplined with shame and made to feel that he or she was a disgrace, is likely to retain that feeling for decades and may harbor an attitude of shame that affects everything that he or she does.
While we are taught to refrain from striking out in anger, we are far less restrained when it comes to verbal lashings. Whether we direct them towards spouses, children, or peers, we should be aware of the impact that words can have. The verse cited above correctly describes the tongue as a sharp, penetrating arrow, which can be every bit as lethal as any physical weapon.
Some people have a wise custom. When they become angry, they clamp their lips tightly. The anger will safely dissipate and the words which could have stung for years never come out.
Today I shall ...
... try to avoid words that may be injurious to another person.
The Ultimate Dinner Party -- Revisited
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I'm not desperate for posts, but I was just reviewing some earlier ones and came across this one from March. It received no comments then. Perhaps today I have some different readers, who are in a different frame of mind, who might want to respond to the call-out...
Back in March this is what I wrote:
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?
*****************
And in the next post, this is what I wrote:
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...!
I'm not desperate for posts, but I was just reviewing some earlier ones and came across this one from March. It received no comments then. Perhaps today I have some different readers, who are in a different frame of mind, who might want to respond to the call-out...
Back in March this is what I wrote:
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?
*****************
And in the next post, this is what I wrote:
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...!
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
I Applaud All of You... or : BUTTERFLIES
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Have I ever stopped to openly thank my blog readers? No, I don't think so. Now is as good a time as any to do so. I don't have to wait for the six-month mark.
Thank you. Todah rabah. Merci. Gracias.
When a person starts a blog for whatever reason, he/she is writing in a vacuum...because that's what cyberspace really is: one, big, gaping hole. Your words are tossed out to float around, sometimes endlessly, without a true destination.
I visualize a post like a butterfly -- some are very beautiful, others ordinary, some are unique-looking. But for every butterfly that flutters around, there has to be a flower upon which it'll settle, or there has to be someone out there to catch the butterfly with a net. We send our butterflies out to the world, not always knowing if they're caught, but surprisingly thankful when they are.
"Happiness is as a butterfly, which when pursued, will fly away, but which when you sit quietly will alight upon your shoulder."
I'm very happy with my butterflies; no doubt some of you are too. I've even noticed new visitors to the butterfly garden, visitors who've linked my efforts to theirs. What a beautiful butterfly garden each one of us can cultivate on our own or as part of an ensemble.
Here's hoping many more of you catch up to my butterflies sooner or later...
Have I ever stopped to openly thank my blog readers? No, I don't think so. Now is as good a time as any to do so. I don't have to wait for the six-month mark.
Thank you. Todah rabah. Merci. Gracias.
When a person starts a blog for whatever reason, he/she is writing in a vacuum...because that's what cyberspace really is: one, big, gaping hole. Your words are tossed out to float around, sometimes endlessly, without a true destination.
I visualize a post like a butterfly -- some are very beautiful, others ordinary, some are unique-looking. But for every butterfly that flutters around, there has to be a flower upon which it'll settle, or there has to be someone out there to catch the butterfly with a net. We send our butterflies out to the world, not always knowing if they're caught, but surprisingly thankful when they are.
"Happiness is as a butterfly, which when pursued, will fly away, but which when you sit quietly will alight upon your shoulder."
I'm very happy with my butterflies; no doubt some of you are too. I've even noticed new visitors to the butterfly garden, visitors who've linked my efforts to theirs. What a beautiful butterfly garden each one of us can cultivate on our own or as part of an ensemble.
Here's hoping many more of you catch up to my butterflies sooner or later...
Monday, May 23, 2005
It's All Relative
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I'm not going to reveal my maiden name or my married name. But I'll tell you that my maiden name is a German name, although my roots are Polish. I know several people with the same last name, although their roots are Hungarian. And then there are those with the same last name, whose roots are actually German.
My married name is a Hebrew name and my husband likes to joke and say that the name was shortened from ____ovitch -- he was born Ashkenazi, but they shortened the last name and he became Sefardic. I will say that through marriage I share the same family name as some big Hollywood producer. Are we related through marriage? Don't know, but if he has a job for me as a writer or even as a studio gofer, then yeah, okay, we're related...
Are you like me? If you travel, or even if you don't travel but just check out phone numbers online, do you look for your own name in a foreign phone book? Don't know what attracts someone to do that, but I do know it is a common curious habit of people. Perhaps it's just natural curiosity, perhaps it's somewhat of a power trip to know that there are more of you in the world.
In the same respect, a few years ago someone told me that she GOOGLEd my name; at the time, I wasn't as Internet literate as I am today, especially because I was an ASK JEEVES junkie. I had no clue what GOOGLE was or what she'd meant when she said she'd GOOGLEd me. When she explained that she inputted my name and saw items that came up, I had to see for myself. Wow, I was famous. I was actually listed and some genealogical correspondence I'd had with someone was linked to the listing, as were reader tips I'd sent in to a magazine, as was a contest suggestion.
Over time, my egotistical self learned to GOOGLE combinations of my name; name and maiden name; name and married name; name and maiden name + married name; name of my blog. Suddenly I'm "computer famous," I realize. I'm listed under all those name combinations.
So I figure that I soon I won't be checking my name out in phone books any longer. GOOGLE meets my needs just fine...for now. One day, perhaps, I can work my way into a Who's Who In... book. But how will I list my name for that entry: given and maiden name; given and maiden and married name; or given and married name?
Guess it's all relative...
I'm not going to reveal my maiden name or my married name. But I'll tell you that my maiden name is a German name, although my roots are Polish. I know several people with the same last name, although their roots are Hungarian. And then there are those with the same last name, whose roots are actually German.
My married name is a Hebrew name and my husband likes to joke and say that the name was shortened from ____ovitch -- he was born Ashkenazi, but they shortened the last name and he became Sefardic. I will say that through marriage I share the same family name as some big Hollywood producer. Are we related through marriage? Don't know, but if he has a job for me as a writer or even as a studio gofer, then yeah, okay, we're related...
Are you like me? If you travel, or even if you don't travel but just check out phone numbers online, do you look for your own name in a foreign phone book? Don't know what attracts someone to do that, but I do know it is a common curious habit of people. Perhaps it's just natural curiosity, perhaps it's somewhat of a power trip to know that there are more of you in the world.
In the same respect, a few years ago someone told me that she GOOGLEd my name; at the time, I wasn't as Internet literate as I am today, especially because I was an ASK JEEVES junkie. I had no clue what GOOGLE was or what she'd meant when she said she'd GOOGLEd me. When she explained that she inputted my name and saw items that came up, I had to see for myself. Wow, I was famous. I was actually listed and some genealogical correspondence I'd had with someone was linked to the listing, as were reader tips I'd sent in to a magazine, as was a contest suggestion.
Over time, my egotistical self learned to GOOGLE combinations of my name; name and maiden name; name and married name; name and maiden name + married name; name of my blog. Suddenly I'm "computer famous," I realize. I'm listed under all those name combinations.
So I figure that I soon I won't be checking my name out in phone books any longer. GOOGLE meets my needs just fine...for now. One day, perhaps, I can work my way into a Who's Who In... book. But how will I list my name for that entry: given and maiden name; given and maiden and married name; or given and married name?
Guess it's all relative...
A Whole New World
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I can show you the world
shining shimmering splendid
Tell me princess now when did you last let your heart decide?
I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride.
A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us no
Or where to go
Or say we're only dreaming
A whole new world
A dazzing place
I never knew
But now from way up here
It's crystal clear
That now I'm in a
whole new world with you.
Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feeling
Soaring tumbling free wheeling
Through an endless diamond sky.
A whole new world
A hundred thousand things to see
I'm like a shooting star
I've come so far
I can't go back
to where I used to be.
A whole new world
With new horizons to pursue
I'll chase them anywhere
There's time to spare
Let me share this whole new world with you.
A whole new world
That's where we'll be
A thrilling chase
A wondrous place
For you and me.
When I married, "A Whole New World," the theme song from the movie Aladdin was to be "our" song. Because I had a mixed crowd at my wedding, we were only going to have mixed dancing after the meal and after bensching when a lot of people disappear.
When we spoke to the bandleader, we told him that he could not have a female singer, and so he told us that he wasn't certain our choice song would work. So he asked for any other songs we might want.
The wedding was beautiful and very "leibedik" with LOTS of shtick being performed for hubby and I. And the speeches were very nice -- of course, I felt the need to speak and used lots of publishing and book analogies to describe my husband and our "courtship."
The evening was nearing its end, the eating and bensching had been done...and it was time for our song....
Well, turns out our song was not to be and second choice won out: "It Had To Be You."
Well, eleven and a half years later, it still is "him" and every day of our marriage is "a whole new world."
******
Everyone has a fantasy world of their own. My fantasy world includes a lot of singing. In my world, my wedding would have seen me at a piano in the middle of the dance floor, spotlight on me and me playing and singing -- serenading, really -- to my husband Stevie Wonder's "Ribbon in the Sky." The lyrics are beautiful, the music is beautiful.
Oh, well, some fantasies are better left as fantasies...
I can show you the world
shining shimmering splendid
Tell me princess now when did you last let your heart decide?
I can open your eyes
Take you wonder by wonder
Over sideways and under
On a magic carpet ride.
A whole new world
A new fantastic point of view
No one to tell us no
Or where to go
Or say we're only dreaming
A whole new world
A dazzing place
I never knew
But now from way up here
It's crystal clear
That now I'm in a
whole new world with you.
Unbelievable sights
Indescribable feeling
Soaring tumbling free wheeling
Through an endless diamond sky.
A whole new world
A hundred thousand things to see
I'm like a shooting star
I've come so far
I can't go back
to where I used to be.
A whole new world
With new horizons to pursue
I'll chase them anywhere
There's time to spare
Let me share this whole new world with you.
A whole new world
That's where we'll be
A thrilling chase
A wondrous place
For you and me.
When I married, "A Whole New World," the theme song from the movie Aladdin was to be "our" song. Because I had a mixed crowd at my wedding, we were only going to have mixed dancing after the meal and after bensching when a lot of people disappear.
When we spoke to the bandleader, we told him that he could not have a female singer, and so he told us that he wasn't certain our choice song would work. So he asked for any other songs we might want.
The wedding was beautiful and very "leibedik" with LOTS of shtick being performed for hubby and I. And the speeches were very nice -- of course, I felt the need to speak and used lots of publishing and book analogies to describe my husband and our "courtship."
The evening was nearing its end, the eating and bensching had been done...and it was time for our song....
Well, turns out our song was not to be and second choice won out: "It Had To Be You."
Well, eleven and a half years later, it still is "him" and every day of our marriage is "a whole new world."
******
Everyone has a fantasy world of their own. My fantasy world includes a lot of singing. In my world, my wedding would have seen me at a piano in the middle of the dance floor, spotlight on me and me playing and singing -- serenading, really -- to my husband Stevie Wonder's "Ribbon in the Sky." The lyrics are beautiful, the music is beautiful.
Oh, well, some fantasies are better left as fantasies...
Saturday, May 21, 2005
More than Words
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I work for a publishing company that is rather big on philanthropy: medical causes, educational causes, women's causes, among others. Two years ago they began a program in which our readers/ our authors submit nominations of people who are working on behalf of a cause or have started a foundation, etc. A company panel reads the letters and chooses five winners. Each winner receives $10,000 U.S. on behalf of their charity/cause and then our company has one of our better-known writers write a story, a fictionalized depiction of the person and their cause. The five stories are then published in an anthology and sold.
http://www.eharlequin.com/cms/charity/moreThanWords.jhtml
Yesterday, we had a company meeting; one of this year's recipients was there to talk about her cause -- Melissa's Living Legacy Foundation.
http://www.teenslivingwithcancer.org/about/mllf.asp
Her daughter, Melissa, who died of cancer a few years back was the inspiration for her starting a cause. This group tries to raise funds to help teens living with cancer. They recently started a web site that attracts countless teens who are looking for medical information, for support systems, for new friends.
What is astounding to learn is that teens are sort of the forgotten population when it comes to being treated for cancer. They are usually treated in pediatric hospitals or in adult hospitals. But they are neither children nor adults--their needs are different than the other two categories, and as many of them are undergoing major life/hormonal changes, it is a truly difficult time to be diagnosed or treated for cancer.
I listened to this mother, thought about her living hell with a sick daughter and the subsequent hell that has become her life since her daughter passed away. But I also thought of the good that she has done since her daughter's passing.
Yesterday morning I had a massive headache when I woke up; to sit in the audience and listen to this mother and try to hold back the tears that wanted to plummet down (yes, I meant to use that verb) my cheeks built up the pressure in my head and made my headache worse. But I knew that my headache pain was only temporary. Melissa's mother's pain is not.
********
I sat there and thought about young people I knew, whom I went to high school with who were stricken with cancer and didn't make it. And I thought about young people I didn't know, but knew about, who also succumbed to their cancers.
Ariel Chaim Avrech was one of those young people. He is the reason that I will be going to California -- I will be attending the second annual Ariel Chaim Avrech Yahrzeit lecture.
And from what I've learned about Ariel, I know that he left behind a living legacy of "More than Words."
I work for a publishing company that is rather big on philanthropy: medical causes, educational causes, women's causes, among others. Two years ago they began a program in which our readers/ our authors submit nominations of people who are working on behalf of a cause or have started a foundation, etc. A company panel reads the letters and chooses five winners. Each winner receives $10,000 U.S. on behalf of their charity/cause and then our company has one of our better-known writers write a story, a fictionalized depiction of the person and their cause. The five stories are then published in an anthology and sold.
http://www.eharlequin.com/cms/charity/moreThanWords.jhtml
Yesterday, we had a company meeting; one of this year's recipients was there to talk about her cause -- Melissa's Living Legacy Foundation.
http://www.teenslivingwithcancer.org/about/mllf.asp
Her daughter, Melissa, who died of cancer a few years back was the inspiration for her starting a cause. This group tries to raise funds to help teens living with cancer. They recently started a web site that attracts countless teens who are looking for medical information, for support systems, for new friends.
What is astounding to learn is that teens are sort of the forgotten population when it comes to being treated for cancer. They are usually treated in pediatric hospitals or in adult hospitals. But they are neither children nor adults--their needs are different than the other two categories, and as many of them are undergoing major life/hormonal changes, it is a truly difficult time to be diagnosed or treated for cancer.
I listened to this mother, thought about her living hell with a sick daughter and the subsequent hell that has become her life since her daughter passed away. But I also thought of the good that she has done since her daughter's passing.
Yesterday morning I had a massive headache when I woke up; to sit in the audience and listen to this mother and try to hold back the tears that wanted to plummet down (yes, I meant to use that verb) my cheeks built up the pressure in my head and made my headache worse. But I knew that my headache pain was only temporary. Melissa's mother's pain is not.
********
I sat there and thought about young people I knew, whom I went to high school with who were stricken with cancer and didn't make it. And I thought about young people I didn't know, but knew about, who also succumbed to their cancers.
Ariel Chaim Avrech was one of those young people. He is the reason that I will be going to California -- I will be attending the second annual Ariel Chaim Avrech Yahrzeit lecture.
And from what I've learned about Ariel, I know that he left behind a living legacy of "More than Words."
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