Do You Have An Accent?

So here is the question of the moment, Do You Have An Accent? Not clear on what the meaning is, take a look at this link.

accent

The latter part of the definition is really what we are talking about.

The word accent in English is also understood to mean the pronunciation and speech patterns that are typical of a speech community;

As a child I never realized that all people have accents, or should I say that it never occurred to me that people would think that my own speech has an accent. I grew up on the West Coast, Los Angeles born and bred. We didn't sound like people from Long Island, Brooklyn, Nashville or Alpharetta.

And we certainly didn't sound like we had rolled out of Tel Aviv, JoBurg, Sydney or Mexico City. To be clear, I have always enjoyed accents. It tickled me pink to hear people speak English yet sound so different. In fact, there was a point in time in which I was disappointed that I couldn't speak with an English accent, but that was short lived.

It was during that famous summer of 1985 trip to Israel that I learned that people thought that I had an accent. I don't remember exactly when it happened, but I do remember some Israeli boy telling me that I speak Hebrew with a thick American accent.

Whoa. What do you mean that I have an accent.

One of the other people with me confirmed it. He was a Jewish kid from Buenos Aires. He said that I sounded like an American.

I was truly dumbfounded by this because until that point, I had never thought of myself as having an accent, that was something that other people had. But I had to admit that it made sense, it hadn't ever come up before.

In the years that have passed I have been told by others that I have an accent and I am sure that many of my international readers would agree with this. Upon occasion people tell me that they can hear some East Coast influence, or that pronounce some things like a Chicagoan.

I laugh when people think that I am from New York. IMO, my voice doesn't sound like that at all. If I am around people with a thick Southern accent it is not unusual for me to start to affect a drawl. I have been asked if I am from Texas.

As for Chicago, well half my family is from there, including my mother so there is probably some truth to that.

One of the funnier occasions came during a wedding I once attended. The bride was Irish and quite a large number of the guests had come to the states to help her celebrate her nupitals. During the reception I walked over to the bar and placed an order for a drink.

The bartender smiled and began preparing it. While he was doing so he looked at me and said:

"I have Irish relatives. What part of Ireland are you from?"

I laughed and said "Hollywood."

The bartender scratched his head and said "Wow, you know that we have a city called Hollywood too."

Now I'd like to say that it was an easy mistake to make. I'd like to say that he was competing with the band and that some trombonist was especially loud, but that wouldn't be true. The band was on a break. It was relatively quiet so I said,

"Begorra, this ale do taste mighty fine."

It probably sounded more like pirate than Irish, but it fit my mood and was lot kinder than asking him if I looked like Lucky the Leprechaun from the Lucky Charms cereal box.

And while we are on the topic of accents let me share something else. Someone once told me that Australian women loved to hear American men speak. The legend said that if you found a nice Australian girl your voice would give you an edge. As a scientist I have always been disappointed that I couldn't test that theory. In the interest of discovery and human development I would have enjoyed running a lab on that.

Anyhooo.................................................

Let's go back to the topic of the post. Do You Have an Accent?

Well, do you? And if so, how would you describe it?

My Theme Song

Someone once suggested that life would be far more fun if we could walk around with a theme song. I kind of like the idea. If I could do it than I would want to have a rotation of songs to use.

For example, here are the top five I would want right now:

O Fortuna- Orff

Hurt- Johnny Cash version

Raiders Of The Lost Ark: The Raiders' March- John Williams

Jaws Theme- John Williams

The Empire Strikes Back: The Imperial March- John Williams

Do You Have Blog Envy Part II

It is close to a year since I wrote part I and not much has changed. I'd like to say that I have grown and matured a lot, but I am not so sure that it is accurate.

I still have feelings of frustration. My best posts are often overlooked and for the most part there is at best a smattering of comments. That is not always the case. There are posts that draw quite a bit of attention and a chunk of comments from the readers, but not always.

My position on why I blog hasn't changed. I don't do it for the comments. I don't do it with the hope of receiving a book deal. I do it because I enjoy it.

But....

I am like so many others. I appreciate the comments. If someone wanted to give me a book deal I would certainly have to entertain it, why not.

As I sit here in mobile office I can say that I was wrong. The blog has matured and has grown. I feel like I have a real rhythm and style. I know that I have a set of readers who visit repeatedly. I am still surprised that so many people do and that so many of you enjoy the crap I spew out here, but I appreciate it.

So in the midst of another new year here is my number one goal for this blog. I want to improve upon my writing. I want to try and raise my game and make the words just sing. I want the text to shout. I want it to feel like there are layers upon layers of texture and color. I want to write well enough that you feel like you are standing next to me, experiencing these tales together.

In the end I have to strive for this because I believe it to be true and because this is what I teach my children. You have to work hard and you have to practice. So I cannot give up on my writing. I cannot close this outlet, not yet.

Now is when I need to dig in and try harder. And there you have it, my confession. I want more. I need more from myself and if I can do that successfully everything else will come.

Do I have blog envy? Yes, I do. I admit it. But I am going to use it to motivate me. So if you are still up for another spin on the carousel I invite you to climb on pick out a horse or pony to ride.

Get comfortable, the ride will be starting soon.

Just Some Links to Some Old Posts

There is a lot going on, so much to say and so much to write about and so little time. If you are bored with the current selection try one of these:

What Do You Call Your Blog?
The Story of Two Souls
My Daughter's Favorite Book
A Little Digestive Distress- Chicken Vindaloo
I Had a Dream
The Search For Answers About Ourselves
The Most Time Consuming Part of Blogging
Cheap Sunglasses
The Supermarket
Why I Blog

Funny Newspaper Clippings

Hat Tip here and here.

Road Show, Israel Style- Daniel Gordis

Daniel Gordis released another dispatch that is worth reading. Take a look at these selections.

"Sometimes, a simple drive on a highway in the Jewish State is all is takes to restore perspective, to revive hope. A road, its exits, the places to which they lead and the history they recall – and you suddenly find yourself with faith in the future restored. If only all of us could take those drives. For especially light of these past months of grief and of disappointment, of coming to terms with the war that we lost (as a senior IDF general admitted publicly yesterday), what we need is perspective, a reminder of where the Jewish people was just decades ago, and how far we’ve come."

And

"And then, one day in the middle of the war, I was driving the Jerusalem - Tel Aviv highway. This time, staring aimlessly out the windshield, I found myself looking at the metal remains scattered alongside the road. I drive the road so often that I hardly ever notice them anymore, but this time, I did. Immobile, but carefully painted so as to preserve them, lay the shells of the trucks that were destroyed as Jews tried to break the Jordanian siege on Jerusalem in 1948. The carcasses of these trucks were a reminder, a source of perspective. If you had told someone in 1948, when Jews in Jerusalem were besieged and out of food, water and medicine that we’d be OK, you’d have sounded like a dreamer. You’ve have had nothing on which to base your confidence. Except, perhaps, for perspective, and for the knowledge that in the end, the Jews have always figured out how to survive. That there is something about our people that defies explanation, but which is real, no less real than any of the challenges we face.

The highway is a reminder of that. The road from Tel Aviv to the capital road still snakes its way up through the hills to Jerusalem. And Israel is still surrounded by enemies. But the difference? Jerusalem is rebuilt, and thriving. And the main problem that we have on that road now is the traffic. Sixty years after the siege, our problem is too many Jews in Jerusalem. Jerusalem overflowing with Jews, living in and visiting the Jewish State. It’s a good problem to have. And not one that we thought we’d have back in 1945.

Further on down the road, I pass the exit for Latrun, the site of devastating battles in the War of Independence, the same Latrun that Ariel Sharon tried to conquer when he was a young commander. But he failed. His troops literally dying of thirst in the sun-scorched battlefield because they didn’t even have canteens, Sharon had to withdraw. And today? There’s a tank museum there. And at the amphitheater there, Israeli soldiers are inducted into their army units in ceremonies overflowing with pride and with confidence, a reality wholly other than what witnesses of Sharon’s battle would have believed the future would hold. "

Perspective- think about it.

Excerpts From the National Intelligence Estimate

The latest brouhaha is in regard to the leaked portion of National Intelligence Estimate that some people and news sources have used to prove that the current war in Iraq has made the US less safe.

To refute this point the Bush administration has declassified more of the report. CNN has a copy here. I read it and wanted to share some selections from it with you.

"We assess that the Iraq jihad is shaping a new generation of terrorist leaders and operatives; perceived jihadist success there would inspire more fighters to continue the struggle elsewhere.

• The Iraq conflict has become the “cause celebre” for jihadists, breeding a deep resentment of US involvement in the Muslim world and cultivating supporters for the global jihadist movement. Should jihadists leaving Iraq perceive themselves, and be perceived, to have failed, we judge fewer fighters will be inspired to carry on the fight.

We assess that the underlying factors fueling the spread of the movement outweigh its vulnerabilities and are likely to do so for the duration of the timeframe of this Estimate.

• Four underlying factors are fueling the spread of the jihadist movement: (1) Entrenched grievances, such as corruption, injustice, and fear of Western domination, leading to anger, humiliation, and a sense of powerlessness; (2) the Iraq “jihad;” (3) the slow pace of real and sustained economic, social, and political reforms in many Muslim majority nations; and (4) pervasive anti-US sentiment among most Muslims—all of which jihadists exploit.

Concomitant vulnerabilities in the jihadist movement have emerged that, if fully exposed and exploited, could begin to slow the spread of the movement. They include dependence on the continuation of Muslim-related conflicts, the limited appeal of the jihadists’ radical ideology, the emergence of respected voices of moderation, and criticism of the violent tactics employed against mostly Muslim citizens."

And

"The jihadists’ greatest vulnerability is that their ultimate political solution —an ultra-conservative interpretation of shari’a-based governance spanning the Muslim world—is unpopular with the vast majority of Muslims. Exposing the religious and political straitjacket that is implied by the jihadists’ propaganda would help to divide them from the audiences they seek to persuade.

• Recent condemnations of violence and extremist religious interpretations by a few notable Muslim clerics signal a trend that could facilitate the growth of a constructive alternative to jihadist ideology: peaceful political activism. This also could lead to the consistent and dynamic participation of broader Muslim communities in rejecting violence, reducing the ability of radicals to capitalize on
passive community support. In this way, the Muslim mainstream emerges as the most powerful weapon in the war on terror.

• Countering the spread of the jihadist movement will require coordinated multilateral efforts that go well beyond operations to capture or kill terrorist leaders.

If democratic reform efforts in Muslim majority nations progress over the next five years, political participation probably would drive a wedge between intransigent extremists and groups willing to use the political process to achieve their local objectives. Nonetheless, attendant reforms and potentially destabilizing transitions will create new opportunities for jihadists to exploit."

And now for the two minute analysis. So what do we make of this. In short there are several things. Iraq is a key issue. The perception of the outcome there is very important. If the US and company are perceived to have lost this war then it is likely that it will serve as a tool to increase terrorism.

If we win, well then it appears that it will serve to reduce the number of terrorists that are being recruited into the fold.

That win is a combination of military and political solutions, ie the establishment of some sort of democratic society. However, it is not clear that this is something that can be established there yet, so I am not holding my breath.

What is most clear is that any sort of real reform has to come about because of changes within the Muslim world. We can push, pull, tug, beg, plead and cajole, but without their participation it is just not going to happen.

How You Found Me

Here is a short snapshot of some of the search terms you used to find me:

random thoughts
yalla ya nasralla
women's voices men hearing
men and emotions
whiskey lullaby song meaning
anger management funny
the nasrallah song
justice scalia's thoughts on living constitution
fish meaning prison
jack is a sexy man
meaning of currency
dennis wolfberg
dr.seuss and worth war two
boy sit to pee
giant asian hornet
besheret vs. basheret
besheret
meaning to five
will you walk with me and december 2005
shakira la tortura meaning
meaning of birthday
tai kwan leap
story for kids that happened on yom kippur
3.13% the meaning of tears
the giant asian hornet
the hedyot
blessing children
incredible orgasms
marni levine
dead walking
darren sherman j date

The 25 Worst Web Sites

As compiled by PCWorld includes such luminaries as:

• 25. Rentmychest.com.
• 24. IKissYou.org
• 23. InmatesForYou.com
• 22. Digital entertainment network (den.com)
• 21. Golden Palace Casino
• 20. Hotmail.com

Mastercard Spoof

Warning- Adult Humor ahead

Walking With The Dead

The beauty of a child's desire to ask "why" is that it forces you to take a hard look at your own beliefs. Do you tell your daughter that she was carved from Adam's rib or do you explain that she evolved from monkeys.

When my grandfather died this past June I knew that it would be a source of many questions for my son. So when I told him that grandpa had died I tried to do the best that I could to make it easy. At 5.5 there is no reason to overly complicate things, but at the same time I do my best to be quite honest with him. I don't want him to be afraid to live his life. I want him to savor and enjoy it and part of that comes from removing the mystery of the things that scare us.

But that is easier said than done and not something that you can accomplish with the snap of a finger or the roll of the dice.

One of the things that my son has been mulling over is the cemetery. It is a place that he was intrigued by. In his mind it was frightening, but at the same time his curiosity made him want to go visit.

As I mentioned above I think that part of the way that we overcome fear is to try and understand whatever it is that frightens us. So with this in mind I thought that it made sense to take him to the cemetery. At the same time I wanted to be certain that he was truly comfortable with it.

During a conversation a couple of weeks ago he asked me again if I would take him on a special trip to see grandpa and I agreed to do so. I then intentionally waited a while to try and gauge where he was at, not to mention that my work schedule conflicted with the hours that the cemetery was open.

We finally got a chance to go and I have to admit that it was with some trepidation that I set out with him. My concern wasn't because of my son. I was confident that he would be alright and we both agreed that if he changed his mind I would turn the car around.

No, it was because of me.

I hadn't been back to the grave since the day of the funeral. And in some respects I wasn't ready to go and see the place where grandpa was buried. As I drove along the 405 I felt myself get a little choked up and I found myself lost in memory.

I turned on the radio and Vin Scully's voice helped bring me some peace. My first Dodger game was with grandpa and my dad. The Dodgers beat the Padres. There were fireworks, Farmer John Hot dogs (if you are a Dodger fan how can you not associate Scully and Farmer John) and peanuts and so much fun.

By the time I entered the cemetery and was headed up the hillside I was ready to handle any question that the little boy threw at me. So I parked the car and walked over to the grass.

We held hands and walked towards the grave. I looked down and saw a somber face taking it all in.

"It is really green here dad."

"Aye, it is."

Don't ask me when I became Scottish or began saying "aye." I just know that for a moment or two it was what came out of my throat.

We reached the grave and I sat down. He came around and sat on my lap and together we read the name on the marker and then the name on the tombstone of the grave next to it.

"Hey, that is grandma."

"You are right, it is."

"I wish that I could see grandma now"

"Do you still remember her?"

"No."

"Well, you were only 2.5 when she died. She really loved you and so did grandpa. As I said that there was a big sigh from both of us and he buried his little head against my chest. We hugged each other tight and sat quietly for a moment.

And then suddenly he stood up and asked if we could go on an adventure. I said yes and together we walked down the hillside looking for bad guys. In no time at all I had to explain to him that it wasn't ok to hop from tombstone to tombstone.

He smiled and said "ok, we can just walk with the dead."

It was an interesting response, but I knew that what it really meant was that he felt comfortable. The cemetery was no longer such a scary place to him.

As we walked back to the car I turned back and looked graveside. I was hoping to see grandpa standing there waving goodbye, if only in my mind. But all I saw were the leaves blowing in the wind and the long branches of a tree swaying.

It may not have been what I wanted but my son felt better and that was enough.

Scared To Comment

This post has received more than 1,023,083 visitors and yet less than one percent of the visitors have left a comment.

Make of that what you will.

Is Your Blog Open On Shabbos?

A question for those bloggers who are Shomer Shabbos, but really for anyone who wishes to answer.

If you had a choice would you close your blog for Shabbos? Does it bother you that people are reading/commenting upon it during Shabbos?

The floor is open.

Vietnamese Israeli family takes a long trip 'home'

I thought that this was interesting.

"In 1977, an Israeli cargo ship nearing Japan spotted a leaking boat crammed with 66 Vietnamese men, women and children out of food and water.

They were among the hundreds of thousands of "boat people," fleeing their war-ravaged country following the end of the Vietnam War. Despite desperate SOS signals, the refugees' distress had been ignored by passing ships from East Germany, Norway, Japan and Panama.

The Israeli ship picked up the weakened passengers and took them back to Israel. There, Prime Minister Menachem Begin authorized their permanent admission to Israel, comparing their plight to that of Europe's Jewish refugees seeking a haven in the 1930s.

What happened to the Vietnamese refugees, and the hundreds that followed them, in "the land of the Jews"?

In one of the opening scenes of the Israeli film "The Journey of Vaan Nguyen" (screening locally on Sept. 30), Hanmoi Nguyen, one of the original refugees, has been in Israel for 25 years. He works hard in a Tel Aviv restaurant, lives modestly, and with his wife is raising five Israel-born, Hebrew-speaking daughters.

The oldest girl, Vaan, is a writer, has served in the army and feels Israeli -- except for her looks. In their classic up-front style, her fellow sabras keep asking her whether her eyes are slanted because she eats so much rice and if she is related to this or that Chinese martial arts star.

In the evenings, the father writes Vietnamese poetry and joins his friends in nostalgic songs about the beautiful land they left behind.

In Vietnam, Hanmoi Nguyen was the son of a wealthy landowner, and he dreams of returning to his village to reclaim the property and settle scores with the communist functionary who kicked him out at gunpoint.

He scrapes together enough money for the trip and returns to a land and a people he hardly recognizes. In a curious parallel to the Holocaust survivors who returned to their homelands to reclaim their old homes, he is met with suspicion and hostility by the new inhabitants and red tape by officials.

Even the hated communist functionary, like the Nazi bully in Germany, is now a nice old man who urges that bygones be bygones.

After a few months, daughter Vaan joins her father to dig for her own roots. She is happy that people on the street look like her, but has trouble negotiating the language and has no patience with the elaborate circumlocutions of social intercourse.

To the natives, Vaan herself has become a foreigner, and she laments, "I am a tourist, I am an Israeli."

The agony of being suspended between two civilizations, without being fully at home in either one, is sensitively, at times heartbreakingly, portrayed, but the film by Israel's Duki Dror (a UCLA alumnus) is not without humor.

One hilarious scene shows the newly arrived boat people being welcomed by an effusive Jewish Agency representative in Hebrew, of which the polite audience doesn't understand a word.

Shortly afterward, an equally enthusiastic integration official tries to teach the refugees a lively Chanukah song.

On the reverse side, the returned father tries to explain Israel to puzzled Vietnamese villagers. He finally comes up with, "They have one lake and eat strange foods."

For the Full Story Click here.

A Bad Job

And That Is The Way that it Was- A New Year's Reflection

So as promised I am trying to produce a relatively short state of the blog. It is not easy. There are so very many posts to sift through and I am getting started far too late to do this properly. But I'll give it a try and we'll see how it goes.

Last September was filled with posts about Katrina, a post dedicated to Bob Denver, a rundown of my experience in the ladies room, information about firewalking, birth control, the Marx Brothers, where I am from, teenage sex, 31 years of friendship, Havana Gila, and some of my comments about the Southern Baptists.

In October I wrestled about some New Year's thoughts and the usual animal story. We talked about whether you could have too much sex and interspersed more thoughts about my grandparents.

There was also the post about actors with bad accents and of course I bored folks with more political commentary. There were also musings about the Akedah, Yom Kippur and more ranting about the Southern Baptists.

My post about The ACLU received a lot of attention as did posts about the car accident I was in as did some posts about my children. Halloween was covered as was the value of a college degree. There were assorted conversations about values and more. It was a busy month.

November was a busy month. There were the many experiences with the hate mail from my troll and time with Scooby Doo. Moneyball played a game and who can forget The Germophobe. There were posts about France burning, Haveil Havalim #43 and gems about my kids. See, they are a constant theme.

Things got nasty with a new troll but I found a way to distract myself by discussing peanut butter. I even got a chance to discuss bullies and Winston Churchill. The Flying Spaghetti Monster made an appearance as did Pat Robertson.

Wow, as I look back I can see it was a very busy month. It really got a little nutty when I said that Happy Holidays is An Appropriate Greeting. Religion maintained its place as did science. I wondered if Judaism requires G-d and asked parents to share their children's most irritating toys.

There is so much more, but I don't want this post to be exceptionally long so we'll move on to December.

The month began with a bang with news about the first Western female sucide bomber, picture of the Crab Nebula and a post in which I made fun of curling. As usual I found that the serious topics received fewer comments. My post about actors from the 80s was a hit but it didn't get as much attention as asking if people had Blog Envy.

I found the blurb about the Titanic to be very interesting. I had a post called Why I blog that was followed by the question of How Many Blogs Do you Read? A little later I Beat Up Santa Claus.

There were all sorts of different posts about things that caught my eye, feelings I had about life and a tribute to my son on the occasion of his fifth birthday.

In January I continued with posts about blogging. They consistently receive the most comments. This theme proved to be true as my posts about the JIBs received quite a bit of attention.

It was the also the month in which I learned that I am just Not That Funny. It was also the month in which my son and I talked about MLK and why people hate others.

WHOA!!!!!!!!

I am far too short on time to continue this so I am going to shift gears and share a few thoughts. I find reviewing my old posts to be hard. All too often I cringe when I read them. It seems to me that I have written this before, so I am not going to belabor the point.

A new year is upon us. I choose to view this as an opportunity to be taken. A time of hope and of joy. It is also a time of sadness and reflection.

It is a time to look inwards and ask the hard questions. I ask the questions that we often don't want to. Am I the man I want to be.

If you think about it that is a very deep and profound question. I am not going to get into it here, but I take it seriously.

When I daven (pray) there is a point in time in which I always pull my tallis over my head. I do it to try and help me to focus. I want to block out all distractions. It is important to me to have that moment.

I always remind my children that no matter how loved they are, at the end of the day we are alone with ourselves and it is important that we be able to enter slumber time feeling good about ourselves.

And so I wish you all very sweet and plesant year. May this be a year in which we see a more peaceful world. A year in which the sick are healed and life improved for all.

שנה טובה וחג שמח

כתיבה וחתימה טובה

Seinfeld In Prison

Ahmadinejad Says That Zionists Are Not Jews

Just a quick comment here.

The Washington Post has a transcript of Ahmadinejad's news conference. It would be easy to call the man names, to say that he is a certified wack job, but it would create issues. In particular it is a huge mistake to view the man as being crazy.

He is very deliberate in his approach. If you ignore the statements that are downright controversial it would be easy to minimize the danger he represents. Take a look at this:

"Many governments and groups that had no role in World War II, regretfully, are impacted by the consequences of World War II."

Every situation in the world is impacted by the past and it is simply foolish to pretend that we can ignore the things that took place. We cannot say that situation xyz was the responsibility of our grandparents or great grandparents and pretend that we do not have to deal with the outcome. We do.

The question is to what extent. Life is often complex and things are complicated. But I don't want to get bogged down by this. Let's move on to his comment about Zionists.

"These Zionists, I want to tell you, are not Jews. That's the biggest deception we've ever faced.

Zionists are Zionists, period. They are not Jews, they are not Christians, and they are not Muslims. They are a power group, a power party. And we oppose oppression and the aggression that any party that seeks pure power, raw power goes after."

This is a very dangerous statement. What he is attempting to do here is dehumanize the people he calls Zionists. The nazis did the same thing and we all know what path that led down. It would be a mistake not to point out his actions and to make it clear that he is being watched very carefully.

Let's not forget that he said on a number of occasions that he would like to see Israel wiped off o the map. Don't be fooled by the words of a snake.

Jumping on Jameel's Coat tails

Ok, Jameel has compiled an end of the year review of his blog. And now it seems I am inspired to try and follow suit.

I make no promises as my time is restricted and I probably have close to a thousand posts to run through. Seriously, it is around that, give or take a hundred.

For those who are wondering in the 2.5 years that I have been blogging I have constructed more than 4,000 posts. Not all of them are still in existence as some have been removed for various reasons.

However, the majority are still up there. So we will see if old Jack can come up with the time and energy to take on this project.

ANTI-AHMADINEJAD RALLY

For a rundown on the rally you can check out Atlas Shrugs, Yourish, Boker Tov Boulder, One Jerusalem and many others.

It is worth following. Take a look.

Grandpa, Dad and I

In the prior post The Pain In My Grandfather's Eyes I spent a few minutes reminiscing about my grandfather and an experience that I shared with him. This post should in theory be a little bit different, hopefully I won't muck it up too badly.

Growing up I didn't know anyone with the same last name. It wasn't until I got to be teenager that I even came across someone with the same name and we couldn't figure out any sort of relationship.

My grandfather was one of five but his only brother never married and never had any kids. My father's younger brother died twelve years ago. He didn't have any children either. So for those of you keeping score that made me the keeper of the line, a responsibility that is now being passed on down to my son.

While I consider myself to have been very close with all of my grandparents, it was a little different with my grandfather. In part it is the shared name. In part it was because I remember the time after my grandmother died and before he got remarried. In part it is just because of the nature of how things work.

My father and his father were very close and I was very close with both of them. It is easy for me to see how they both impacted me. I have habits that I can attribute to both of them. Physically I am much bigger than my grandfather was, in that I more closely take after my father. But aspects of my temperment are far closer to my grandfather than my father.

I am a blend, a mutt. And should my other grandfather read this he should know that I definitely have my share of his traits as well. And you know grandpa that I don't say things like that just to say them.

Anyway...With the new year approaching I naturally have been thinking about what has happened and where I have been. And I find that I miss my grandfather more than ever. I miss the friendship that we had developed.

We were always close, but after I became a father our relationship changed. As I came to understand what it meant to be the sole source of income and to understand the awesome challenge of raising children it grew deeper.

I miss having him around to bullshit with. I miss just sitting in the living room with him and my father. Sometimes the three of us would say nothing, just stare off into space or drift off into sleep in our recliners. The silence was never awkward. It was natural.

I miss the road trips that the three of us would take, the trips to Dodger games, movies and more. I miss the secure feeling that I got just knowing that if I had a problem I could call either one of them.

Back in that crazy summer of '04 I spoke with him about what it would be like after he was gone. He smiled and told me that I shouldn't worry about it. I told him that I didn't, but that I would miss having him around.

He smiled again and told me that even though his own father had died close to thirty years earlier he still missed being able to speak with him. And then he said that I would just figure it out.

And that my friends is in some respects the quintessential summation of our philosophy for living. Life isn't fair and it isn't always easy. Get over it and figure it out.

I have to print that out and give it to my kids. In another 20 years or so they'll really appreciate it.

The new year is coming and I can feel the chill of his absence but the memories warm my soul. Time for this old man to run.

Lailah tov from LA.

The Pain In My Grandfather's Eyes

It feels like forever since my grandfather passed away. I think that in part this is because he started to slip away long before his soul left his body.

Some people claim that his mind had started to go and at just short of 92 it is not totally unreasonable. I disagree with this. His mental faculties were intact, but his emotional capacity to deal with a body that no longer functioned as he wanted to was worn down.

Though we try to outrun the coming darkness there is a time in which we cannot maintain the pace and slowly the sun begins to set. In some respects it was like watching a row of dominos collapse. First his legs began to give him trouble and after a while he needed a cane to help him get around.

That worked for a while and then his pelvis gave out, there was a fracture and a stay at a rehab facility. There were various hospital stays for odds and ends. Things that never would have slowed him down suddenly turned into issues and led to other issues.

This is how it went. He would face some sort of medical challenge and slowly but surely he would overcome it. And each time he would come back home I would see that the fire in his eyes still burned, but the truth was that sometimes it was dimmer than before.

My grandfather was fiercely independent and I know without question that if his body had held up better his will to live would have kept him around longer. It is selfish of me to say that, but it is true.

As his body went, he retreated into memories of happier times. He became less responsive. It began to be more of a challenge to get him to talk. I worked on it. I tried to get him to tell me those stories that I loved so much. It didn't matter that I had heard them a thousand times, I never got tired of them.

I can tell many of them, virtually word for word, but they lack the authenticity that he gave them. There are many to choose from but some stand out from the others. One in particular struck me.

It was the summer of 2004. The summer in which my father nearly died. For that reason alone it is a summer that I will never forget, but in regards to this particular story here is the relevance.

My grandfather was telling me stories about the Chicago of his youth. Interspersed were tales of his time with the carnival and of winters in New Orleans. At one point he changed gears and told me of a disagreement that he had had with his father.

The details of the disagreement aren't important to this story. What really struck me was the hitch in his voice and the pain in his eyes as he told me this story. He remembered feeling ashamed that he had disappointed his father more than seventy years earlier.

So much time had passed, but sometimes the pain we experience doesn't always go away. For a brief moment I could see the young man that my grandfather had been. For a moment I was able to relate to him in a way that I had never had before. For a moment the pain in my grandfather's eyes took me back in time and then it was gone.

And now, so is he.

What Do You Like Best About Your Blog?

So here is the question of the moment. What aspect/feature do you like best about your blog?

What I am Listening To Now

Here is snapshot of what is playing on my iPod now.

Crawling
Linkin Park
In the End
Linkin Park
Blue Monday
Orgy
Hate Me
Blue October
Harry's Game
Clannad
The Adventure
Angels & Airwaves
Bring Me to Life
Evanescence
Precious
Depeche Mode
Burn Down The Mission
Elton John
May It Be
Enya
The Memory of Trees
Enya
La Soñadora
Enya
Insomnia (Monster Mix)
Faithless
If You Could Read My Mind
Gordon Lightfoot
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Green Day
Knockin' On Heaven's Door
Guns N' Roses
Gollum's Song - performed by Emiliana Torrini
Howard Shore
The Breaking of the Fellowship (Featuring "In Dreams")
Lord Of The Rings Soundtrack
It's Been Awhile
Staind
Fire on Babylon
Sinéad O'Connor
Gone Away
The Offspring
Somebody Told Me
The Killers
Mr. Brightside
The Killers
Crazy
Gnarls Barkley
Joey
Concrete Blonde
Carry That Weight
The Beatles
Lay, Lady, Lay
Bob Dylan
The Fire Inside
Bob Seger
Nobody's Fault But Mine
Led Zeppelin
Long Walk to Freedom (Halala South Africa)
Ladysmith Black Mambazo

Criticizing Islam

During the past year there have been numerous issues surrounding the Islamic world and the west.

Daniel Pipes has an essay in which he comments on the controversy surrounding the pope and provides some background on the response of some members of the Muslim world to things that they find offensive. Pipes also comments on whether this was an intentional remark by the pope. Let's take a look:

"Whatever the pope's purpose, he prompted the near-predictable furor in the Muslim world. Religious and political authorities widely condemned the speech, with some calling for violence.

• In Britain, while leading a rally outside Westminster Cathedral, Anjem Choudary of Al-Ghurabaa called for the pope "to be subject to capital punishment."
• In Iraq, the Mujahideen's Army threatened to "smash the crosses in the house of the dog from Rome" and other groups made blood-curdling threats.
• In Kuwait, an important website called for violent retribution against Catholics.
• In Somalia, the religious leader Abubukar Hassan Malin urged Muslims to "hunt down" the pope and kill him "on the spot."
• In India, a leading imam, Syed Ahmed Bukhari, called on Muslims to "respond in a manner which forces the pope to apologise."
• A top Al-Qaeda figure announced that "the infidelity and tyranny of the pope will only be stopped by a major attack."

The Vatican responded by establishing an extraordinary and unprecedented security cordon around the pope. Further away, the incitement spurred some violence, with more likely on the way. Seven churches were attacked in the West Bank and Gaza, one in Basra, Iraq (prompting this ironic headline at the "RedState" blog: "Pope implies Islam a violent religion ... Muslims bomb churches"). The murder of an Italian nun in Somalia and two Assyrians in Iraq also appear connected.

Second reflection: this new round of Muslim outrage, violence, and murder has a by-now routine quality. Earlier versions occurred in 1989 (in response to Salman Rushdie's novel, The Satanic Verses), 1997 (when the U.S. Supreme Court did not take down a representation of Muhammad), 2002 (when Jerry Falwell called Muhammad a terrorist), 2005 (the fraudulent Koran-flushing episode), and February 2006 (the Danish cartoon incident)."

It is no secret that there are people who claim that there is a war against Islam. Most of those people fall into the category of what some people would call Radical Muslims. As you can see from the Pipes essay there is a history of these types of reactions many of which predate the current issues.

There is also a real question about how many people can be termed as being Radical Muslims. This term suggests that they are a minority and clearly leads into the area we call Moderate Muslims. Surely there must be a group of moderates, but we almost never hear from any who can clearly be identified this way. Why aren't they marching?

Back to Pipes for a moment. He makes a critical comment that I am going to place in bold:

Third reflection: the Muslim uproar has a goal: to prohibit criticism of Islam by Christians and thereby to impose Shariah norms on the West. Should Westerners accept this central tenet of Islamic law, others will surely follow. Retaining free speech about Islam, therefore, represents a critical defense against the imposition of an Islamic order.

This is not the first time that Pipes has stated this. You can find earlier comments here and my response here.

We shouldn't set out to intentionally offend others, but at the same time we cannot allow these violent responses to temper our ability to voice our thoughts. Violence is unacceptable.

In one of my posts about the cartoon controversy I cited Hosni Mubarak's comments:

"Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak warned that the insistence of European newspapers on printing the cartoons of Prophet Mohammed (pbuh) risked provoking a terrorist backlash,..."

When the leader of a nation says that criticism may create a terrorist backlash we should be greatly concerned. More comments and thoughts about this.

Our friends the Saudis have schoolbooks that are definitely not designed to spread tolerance and understanding. I blogged about that here:

FIRST GRADE

" Every religion other than Islam is false."

"Fill in the blanks with the appropriate words (Islam, hellfire): Every religion other than ______________ is false. Whoever dies outside of Islam enters ____________."

FOURTH GRADE

"True belief means . . . that you hate the polytheists and infidels but do not treat them unjustly."

FIFTH GRADE

"Whoever obeys the Prophet and accepts the oneness of God cannot maintain a loyal friendship with those who oppose God and His Prophet, even if they are his closest relatives."

"It is forbidden for a Muslim to be a loyal friend to someone who does not believe in God and His Prophet, or someone who fights the religion of Islam."

"A Muslim, even if he lives far away, is your brother in religion. Someone who opposes God, even if he is your brother by family tie, is your enemy in religion."

I cited a Dennis Prager essay in which he discussed some of what is going on in Islamic nations. I also blogged about the Afghani convert to Christianity who at time faced the death penalty because of his conversion.

Want to see some of the cartoons from the Arab world. Just click here.

The examples of unacceptable behavior and inconsistencies are endless. For me, the bottom line is that we must draw a line in the sand and dictate that violence and threats of violence are unacceptable.

There must be a reformation and as one of my commenters said in an earlier post it must come from within Islam. But they need our help and that means we make it clear that we will not be bullied or threatened.

Until we reach a point at which violence and or threats of violence are not the first response to things that they find offensive you can expect it to be a very rocky road and a challenging relationship.

I do not believe that all Muslims are bad people. I do not believe that Islam is incompatible with the west. But we have a long road ahead of us and much to do before we get to a point in which we can just relax

Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day

Arrr, welcome t' my blog. Today is talk like a pirate day. Aye. Aye, i encourage you all t' join in the festi'ities. Aye.

Ahoy, if you need help speakin' pirate you can find assistance har. Aye, me parrot concurs. Or try this video:



ARRRRRRRR!



Signed,

Captain Jack- One-eared Dog the Damned

2 siblings reunited after being separated in Holocaust

What a story.

"After 65 years, in which each of them thought their sibling had perished in the Holocaust, and after they searched for each other in Israel and abroad, Hilda Shelik (75) and her brother Simon Glasberg (83) met Monday. With the help of Yad Vashem's website, the two siblings' grandchildren discovered that family members had indeed survived the Holocaust, even though they had previously been led to believe otherwise.

"I am happy today. All the years that passed I didn't believe my family survived. Even when my grandchildren told me they had survived, I didn't believe it. Today I am happy," said Hilda.

Their older brother, Karol Weiner, thought that Hilda perished in the Holocaust, and therefore submit a Page of Testimony to Yad Vashem in 1999 in Hilda's name stating such. About a month and a half ago, her grandchildren found the Page of Testimony written by Hilda's brother. Karol passed away the same year, without knowing that thanks to him, his siblings found Hilda in Israel."

Click here for the full story.

Some Things I Know About My Readers

Oh the beauty of the blogosphere is the interaction with others you might not ever encounter. It is one of the things that I really enjoy. During the course of this interaction I have learned a few things about some of the people that hang out here.

Here are a few nuggets:

Visitors to the Shack are employed by such companies as:

1. Disney
2. Microsoft
3. Canadian Defamation League
4. Jewish Federation
5. US Army
6. US Navy
7. Symantec
8. Nortel
9. GE
10. 7-11

Job Titles/Professions include:

1. Attorney
2. Software Engineer
3. Doctor
4. Mother
5. Zookeeper
6. Certified Professional Schmuck
7. Rabbi
8. Public Servant
9. Man Servant
10. Retired Postman
11. College Professor

Favorite Flavors of Ice Cream

1. Chocolate
2. Chunk Monkey
3. Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
4. Vanilla
5. Rocky Road
6. Mocha Almond Fudge
7. Creamy Delight

Pretty nifty, don't you think.

Spiderman in Japanese Is Spiderman

The Jewish Pirates of The Caribbean

The Jewish Journal has an interesting article about Jewish Pirates.

"But now a forthcoming book hopes to change that image by focusing on Ladino-speaking Jews whose piracy grew out of the Inquisition. "The Jewish pirates were Sephardic. Once they were kicked out of Spain [in 1492], the more adventurous Jews went to the New World," said Ed Kritzler, whose yet-untitled book on Jewish pirates will be published by Doubleday in spring 2007.

Jewish piracy has been around since well before the Barbary pirates first preyed on ships during the Crusades. In the time of the Second Temple, Jewish historian Flavius Josephus records that Hyrcanus accussed Aristobulus of "acts of piracy at sea."

Kritzler has studied pirates for 40 years, and said that the public is fascinated with them because they're "rugged individuals in a world of conformity. They carved their own identity, independent of the rules and strictures of society."

But determining the exact number of Jewish pirates is difficult, Kritzler said, because many of them traveled as Conversos, or converts to Christianity, and practiced their Judaism in secret.

While some Jews, like Samuel Pallache, took up piracy in part to help make a better life for expelled Spanish Jews, Kritzler said others were motivated by revenge for the Inquisition.

One such pirate was Moses Cohen Henriques, who helped plan one of history's largest heists against Spain. In 1628, Henriques set sail with Dutch West India Co. Admiral Piet Hein, whose own hatred of Spain was fueled by four years spent as a galley slave aboard a Spanish ship. Henriques and Hein boarded Spanish ships off Cuba and seized shipments of New World gold and silver worth in today's dollars about the same as Disney's total box office for "Dead Man's Chest."

Henriques set up his own pirate island off the coast of Brazil afterward, and even though his role in the raid was disclosed during the Spanish Inquisition, he was never caught, Kritzler told The Journal.

Another Sephardic pirate played a pivotal role in American history. In the book "Jews on the Frontier" (Rachelle Simon, 1991), Rabbi I. Harold Sharfman recounts the tale of Sephardic Jewish pirate Jean Lafitte, whose Conversos grandmother and mother fled Spain for France in 1765, after his maternal grandfather was put to death by the Inquisition for "Judaizing."

BTW, Talk Like a Pirate Day is Tomorrow.

Jack Tries To Start a Trend

As many of you know I am a summer camp junkie. I loved it. Camp was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Some of you understand and others think that I am a loser. Doesn't make much of a difference to me what you think, I am too busy worrying about holding a birthday party.

During the Summer of my twenty-second year walking this planet I ventured off to a new camp that was located in a different country. To clarify, it wasn't a new camp, but it was new to me.

I was part of a small group of three that left the land that we knew for the splendor known as Ontario. It was in Canada that we decided we would spend time. It was in Canada where we were completely unknown that we decided have a summer of fun, frolic and some debauchery. And it was in Canada that we decided we would try and start a new trend.

The idea was that we would go to camp and try to convince all of the people there that if they wanted to be on the cutting edge they would use an expression we created. In our minds it was simple. They'd want to be cool, they'd want to be hip and they would look to us to help them.

Yes, I know that it was arrogant to think that a few guys from LA would convince a bunch of Canadian yokels into thinking that we were cool, but it made sense to us. How could they not believe us. They didn't have real money, the bills looked like they belonged in a Monopoly game and they had coins with goofy names like Looneys. And don't get me started on those funny accents and expressions. I was familiar with Bob and Doug Mackenzie. What else did we need to know about Canada.

If you are not familiar, here is a short clip:

Back to the story. We quickly decided that the easiest thing to do was to come up with a word or expression and try to convince the folks at camp that they should use it.

Combrodonate.

That was the word.

Combrodonate. It sounds ridiculous, but looking back we didn't think so. We thought that it had that special something that would endear it to people and most of all we thought that we could sell it.

Well, we convinced a bunch of people and for a short time it appeared that it might work. But just when it seemed most promising it started to fizzle out. I can't say that I know exactly why because the truth is that for a short time it hung on and we gained some mindshare and momentum.

Looking back I suspect that there were a couple of reasons why it didn't catch. It didn't have enough pizzazz to support what is really kind of a dumb word and the boys and I were too busy chasing the women to focus on it.

I'll let you combrodonate upon that and for now I'll wish you a pleasant evening. See you in the AM.

The Birthday Party Dilemma

If you are a parent of young children you just might find that this post is applicable to you. But even if you are not a parent or your kids are older I encourage you to join me on my walk through the mental morass I call my mind.

But please be careful. Beware the clutter and please I beg of you do not stray off of the path or feed the animals.

The birthday party dilemma sounds simple. How many children can we invite to my son's party. Here is the rub, the party must include family, friends and of course the kids from school.

There are two kindergarten classes. That works out to a total of 45 children. If you add the family (read cousins) you can figure that there is another 10 or 12 children. And then if you factor in the close family friends you can easily increase it by another 20. Yes, I said 20.

For those of you who are keeping score this works out to be almost 80 children. It doesn't cover their parents and at age six you can guarantee that there will be at least one adult with each child and in some cases two.

Oh, did I mention that my son has friends who no longer go to the same school but they are people we still see socially. WTF. How did I end up with a number that is more suited to Bar-Mitzvah reception.

Some of you are chuckling. You are thinking that old Jack has lost his marbles and that all that needs to be done is a simple chop job on the invitation list. Here is the challenge.

Here are two potential compromises.

1. Have a small party in which my son and a few friends do something bigger like a trip to an amusement park. Of course if you go this route you are still out a solid chunk of change.
2. Have a party that is exclusive to boys. This reduces the number of children who will be invited but it still leaves an incredible number of people to invite, albeit smaller. It also requires a theme that is boy oriented.
   

I am not a sheep. I have no problem being independent, but I don't want to do it at the expense of my son. He has already been invited to a half dozen birthday parties and it appears that the basic deal is that each family is going to invite all of the students in both classes.

See, part of the fun of kindergarten is that we try to protect the feelings of the children and that means that we push to invite all of the kids to every party. In a short time this will change, but we are not quite there yet.

I don't want to impact his social position by being the parent that didn't invite the kids that invited him to their parties. At the same time it is important to me that he understands that we don't care about keeping up with the Goldbergs, Smiths, Jones or Berkowitzs.

Another potential option is to have a joint party with a couple of other children. It makes for a massive party, but the financial burden is split and from a selfish perspective it does reduce the number of weekends in which I get to attend said parties.

One of my concerns with this ridiculous nonsense is that he really doesn't need 50 gifts. He has plenty of toys, more than he can play with at one time. His mother and I are very seriously considering making it a gift free party.

And here is my confession/dream. If we ask that everyone who attends pay a $25 cover charge I could make this one hell of a party. Maybe what I should do is invite everyone and then ply the adults with copious amounts of alcohol.

In all sincerity, I am troubled by all of this. I am going to be careful with this. I am simply not going to go bankrupt on a birthday party. It won't happen. I also won't put a six year-old in a position in which he is trying to defend principles. I will teach him about said principles and I will use this occasion to do so, but again he is six. He doesn't need to sit on the playground and try to explain why he only invited half the class.

There is a lot of room for learning here and that includes his old man. Look, the upside of this is that if this remains the worst problem that I have to deal with it means that my life is pretty damn good.

I am off to ruminate on other thoughts.

In Reference To The Pope's Recent Comments

I ran this next blurb last March, but it is appropriate for now as well. Here it comes, in its entirety:

"In a more culturally confident age, the British in India were faced with the practice of "suttee" - the tradition of burning widows on the funeral pyres of their husbands. Gen. Sir Charles Napier was impeccably multicultural:

"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: When men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks, and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."

This makes sense to me. It ties in well with stories about converts who face death sentences, riots based on cartoons or murders of people because of their ethnicity/religion. The time is coming when we are going to have to make a decision whether to push or be pushed.

A Plumbing Problem

The joy of owning your own home is sometimes tempered by the cost of maintaining your domocile. Sometimes they are minor irritants and sometimes they are larger and of greater concern.

And certainly your response to the challenges that you face is in direct response to the cost and inconvenience you face relative to your own checkbook.

At the moment the Shack is dealing with a plumbing problem that was discovered late last night. Plumbing problems are never fun, but those that are discovered closer to the midnight hour are even more troublesome.

Listen carefully and you just might hear my roar of frustration. This just sucks.

Saturday Night's Alright For Blogging

If you don't know the musical reference in the title than you should find out. Don't ask me why because I don't have an answer.

I always feel a bit unsettled, just before the Jewish New Year that is. I don't exactly know why. I have my suspicions. I have my ideas, but I don't really know if any of them are all that accurate.

Maybe it is because I am antsy. Maybe it is because by nature I sometimes find it hard to sit still. Of course, I also am the complete oppposite of that. I can lie on a beach or hammock and just do nothing for hours at a time. I love to sit creekside and listen the water murmur and the whisper of the wind on the trees. I love to hear the roar of the waves.

Today my daughter climbed into my lap and ordered me to read a book to her, so I did. Actually we read it about eight times. She turned and twisted so that she could look into my eyes and then she took her tiny hands and stroked my face. I melted. She kissed my forehead and said "I love you!"

Ok, that is not entirely true. She screamed it. Screaming and shrieking are new things for her, but she loves them. Don't know what it is about shrieking and little girls, but every little girl I have ever known has done so.

My son has a million questions about the world, especially before bedtime. My daughter doesn't ask too many questions, instead she claims to be starving. They both make me smile.

I remember being a child and wanting to stay awake. They have that same fear that I had that if they go to sleep they'll miss something.

Now I don't fear missing anything but sleep. Kind of funny how that works.

I am not a fan of the Catholic Church, can't say that I like the pope but I don't like what I see happening now. That is, I don't like the temper tantrum that many Muslims are throwing. People get offended all the time. Grow up and act like adults.

You are entitled to ask for an apology. You are entitled to be upset and offended. You are not entitled to use violence to try and obtain said apology.

I am glad that it is football season. I love watching and love playing the game. I miss some of the older players. I miss watching Emmit Smith, Barry Sanders, Marcus Allen, Bo Jackson and Walter Payton play. Those guys were just a lot of fun.

Sometimes I miss being 20. Ok, I don't miss the experiences I had that year, but I miss the physical condition I was in. I miss having a metabolism that allowed me to eat anything. I miss having a body that you couldn't bruise. I miss being able to function on three hours of sleep for months at a time.

OTOH, I like not living in a dumpy apartment. I like having a full refrigerator. I love my family and I enjoy having more than two dollars in my checking account.

I am sorry that the Jameel/DovBear lovefest fell through, but I am curious to get the full report as to what happened at the big Psychotoddler/Blogger meet.

I almost flew out just to say that I was there, but then again maybe I was. Maybe I am writing this from my room at the Hyatt Grand Central. Maybe I spent time playing Three Card Monty with a little man at 42nd and Lex or maybe I just hung out at home and discovered that I have a plumbing problem.

Emmit Smith- More Than Just a Football Player

When Did MTV Become Boring

The question is not really a question. It is more of a statement about who I am now as opposed to who I used to be. Let's ignore the fact that MTV stopped playing music videos a thousand years ago.

Back in the days of Martha Quinn I was one of those teens who enjoyed the relatively new medium of music videos. They were fun to watch and I especially enjoyed those artists who spent real time constructing a story to go with their music.

Later MTV introduced new shows such as the Real World and for a while I watched a few of them. Somewhere along the way I got bored and began to lose interest. I suppose that you could say that I grew up a bit. I just got tired of all of the nonsense, the focus on the college demographic.

I did my time. I packed a ton of fun into my college years. I spent my time crawling through bars and chasing women. I went to a thousand parties. Seriously, I hit the parties at my university and made sure to hit parties at my friends schools as well.

If you are familiar with UCSB you'll understand that I spent many Saturday nights walking down DP. There were nights in which I crashed on couches, slept in cars and even a couple of trees. Somehow in spite of all of my carousing I managed to earn a couple degrees.

So I graduated from MTV into the VH1 demographic. I turned into a curmudgeon, an old fogey. I can't really complain, I like this guy.

The story of a Shi’ite from Lebanon who converted to Judaism

"Avraham Sinai’s story is difficult to understand. Born 42 years ago in a Shi’ite village in eastern Lebanon, today he is an ultra-Orthodox Jew who studies in a yeshiva and is raising his seven children in Safed. On his walls are pictures of rabbis. His oldest son, Haim,
served in the Givati brigade. His second daughter will be drafted soon. The younger children play Hizbullah terrorist and “shoot” each other.

Only the pita bread and the labeneh hint at the past of this ultra-Orthodox family from Safed, at its former life in Lebanon in the shadow of the Israel-Hizbullah war. Sinai has published a book about his road from Lebanon to Judaism, A Martyr from Lebanon: Life in the Shadow of Danger.

Today he is an integral part of the city’s ultra-Orthodox community, and his previous life seems very far away. His family was with the South Lebanese Army (SLA), a Lebanese militia closely allied with Israel. Sinai, however, says that his connection to Israel preceded the SLA-IDF alliance.

“In the early 1980s the Palestinian terrorist organizations controlled large areas of Lebanon. They were harassing the Shi'ites, and it was natural for us to help the Jews against them. My family had good relations with IDF intelligence. Since I was a child I remember IDF officers hanging around our house.”

Sinai says that at the age of 17 he began actively assisting Israeli intelligence, passing on information on the activities of the PLO and other Palestinian organizations in Lebanon. But then, he says, came the important chapter of his life, the one he is most proud of.

“After the power of the Palestinians declined, my handlers tried to convince me to join Hizbullah. At first I didn’t want to. It was frightening. But my handlers pressured me.”

Click here to read the full story.

A Shocking Experience

Inside the Blogger's Studio- A Dream, Er Nightmare

Originally posted here.

James Lipton and I were seated inside a dark auditorium. It looked no different than any other interview he had conducted, except that it was me on stage with him. I was being interviewed.
Normally I wouldn’t be thrown by such a thing as I am relatively quick on my feet. If you can handle the bad jokes and the non-sequiturs I can usually keep up with anything you throw at me. Or so I have always thought, maybe I was wrong. I did have one reader write me to say that he doesn't think that I am funny.

Then again this particular reader is so anal retentive it would take a team of monkeys to remove the impaction. Ok, not funny, but I am tired and allowed to be less funny, as opposed to just funny. Funny garners a smile, less funny get's a smirk and almost funny receives a courtesy laugh.

Don't worry if you are unable to keep up, Cliff Notes and a complete transcript will be available following the show.

So there I sat, trying to be cool and to not just be funny, or a little funny, I wanted to be "snorting milk-through-the-nose funny" and was not getting it done. The questions were flying at me.

• What is your favorite word? Monkey
  What is your least favorite word? chunk
  What turns you on? Electricity
• What turns you off? A lack of electricity
• What sound do you love? The Ocean
• What sound do you hate? Vacuum Cleaner
• What profession other than yours would you like to attempt? Professional Athlete
• What profession would you not like to participate in? Garbage Man

After each question Lipton would sigh and roll his eyes, the audience was restless. I am fairly certain that I could hear someone snoring. I desperately tried to come up with a funny story, or a witty insight, I felt so pedestrian.

Lipton asked me how I felt about Cookie Monster. I must have had a blank stare on my face as he repeated the question, "Did I steal his cookies?" As the shock spread I squirmed in my seat. My discomfort grew as suddenly my son stood before me asking if the accusations were true. "It is not nice to take things without asking he said."

I sputtered out a lame response, "Cookie has no regard for other people's property. He is the last person to accuse anyone. And besides he is fat!"

"It is not nice to call people names, daddy." As I hung my head my son began to cry. I had hurt his feelings over a stupid puppet. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back , the lights of the auditorium stage radiating heat. I was in hell, a very strange and bizarre hell that only grew more strange.

There was a loud noise and I looked up to see that I was standing in a ring. I was involved in my own private kumite against a group of characters from children's television.

I didn't have long to consider my options as I was immediately assaulted by Barney. I took the purple dinosaur and punched him the snout. As he held his wounded nose I worked on his body. With a mighty blow I laid him out on the mat. He was immediately replaced by Dora the Explorer and Boots, her pet monkey.

It didn't take a but a minute for me to give them the same treatment that Barney received.

The Wiggles entered the ring. I punched Murray in the mouth and took his guitar, which I then smashed over the heads of Anthony and Greg. Jeff took off running and the ring was empty.

They were followed by all of the Teletubbies. It only took a moment for me to snatch Tinky-Winky's purse from him and the use it to knock out him and the others. I chuckled as they were replaced by more characters, all of them would fall, I could not be defeated and then reality hit me in the mouth.

I was incredibly fatigued and there was an endless line of fighters waiting for me. I needed a plan, a way to escape, the only question was how. Before I could come up with the an answer a new challenger strode into the ring.

A furry red devil named Elmo. We circled each other like gladiators searching for a weakness we could exploit. The little monster was clever, a cagey veteran of many wars. I knew that this would be hard. Sweat poured down my forehead and into my eyes, blurring my vision.

With blinding speed he took advantage of this and began pounding my head, working my kidneys. I was losing to a muppet, I couldn't go down this way. With a roar I grabbed him and began to rain blows down upon him, over and over I struck him and then I realized that he was laughing at me.

That was when I realized that he was trying to use the
Rope-a-dope against me. It all became clear to me. I knew that my strength would eventually fail me and that without a new plan I would fall, a victim of muppetry.

With an effort I managed to scoop him up. I held him by the throat at arms length. I threatened to send him to live with Mr. Hooper, unless I was given a guarantee of safe passage to the Island of Sodor and transportation on Thomas The Tank Engine.

My demands were met by laughter and from the middle of the crowd a voice called out to me, it was the Kingpin, Grover. Grover the cute loveable blue muppet with the gay tendencies began to lecture me on my lack of leverage. He explained in detail what would happen if I didn't give up.

The situation was dire. I knew that he spoke the truth, but still I searched for a way out. Suddenly there was a roar, the ground shook and a blinding light pierced the previously darkened auditorium.

A voice cried out to me, "Jack, we are here." As my vision returned I looked up to see that Max and the Wild Things were next to me. I was rescued.

Strong arms lifted me up and I was carried out a thousand questions came to mind. Where was James Lipton, when would the show air, could I get a copy, was this all on television, would I be invited back and then nothing. I was asleep, exhausted from the battles of the day.

I don't remember anything else from the dream, but when I woke up I did notice something. Lying next to me was my son's stuffed animal, Cookie Monster. He looked at me with a big goofy smile and googly eye, mocking me as if he knew a secret that no one else did.

Old Posts Revisited

Every now and then I just get the urge to reuse old material. The next couple of posts are recycled.

Elie's Book Meme

Ok Elie, here you go.

1. Name one book that changed your life: I am not sure that I can pick one book and say that it changed my life. I can point out many that influenced me, but just one...

2. One book you've read more than once: The Fellowship of the Ring.

3. One book you'd want on a desert island: I hate having to narrow it down to just one book. This answer changes from time to time. How about a Tolkien Anthology.

4. One book that made you laugh: A Collection of Jewish Humor.

5. One book that made you cry: Tuesdays with Morrie

6. One book you wish you'd written: The Art of War

7. One book you wish had never been written: I don't want to give these guys any more publicity.

8. One book you're currently reading: Gettysburg- Stephen W. Sears

The Mother of All Trailers

Open Wide & Insert Both Feet

If you are a normal person you have had at least one experience in your life in which you said something that you wished that you could take back.

If you are like me you are part mutant and have had this happen more than once. I seem to go through periods of time in which my mouth and my brain stop working together. For that matter I can recall a period of time in which they took separate vacations.

It was great. Everything I said was dumb/offensive and or silly. You name it, I managed to do it.
It was more than just a little embarrassing, it was a lot. But such is life, especially if you like me try not to take it all too seriously.

That doesn't mean that I enjoy making myself feel foolish, like you, I really don't. But I try hard not to dwell on it. This is one of those areas in which I constantly strive to do better because the reality is that I sometimes live inside my head and those stupid comments reasonate here. I always envision it like some kind of internal Pong game.

Eventually I forget about it and move on.

One of these days I am going to bathe my feet in chocolate so that when I do get stuck chewing on a size 12 boot I'll enjoy it a little bit more.

Oy.

Blog Housekeeping

Just as an FYI to those of you who have tagged me with a meme. If I haven't done it there is a good chance that I have:

A) Forgotten about it.

B) Am unaware that I was tagged.

C) Ignoring it because, well just because.

D) None of the above.

Ten Foods That Will Make You Sick

Feh, Bleah, Yuck. Why would you consider eating any one of the following:

1. Chocolate Covered Cockroaches
2. Regurgitated by a Weasel Coffee Beans
3. King Snake Soaked Whiskey
4. Giant Water Bugs in a Rich Thai Red Curry Sauce
   

For the full list click here.

Samir Kuntar Is A Terrorist

This story has been making the rounds so I had been mulling over whether to cover it. But I cannot maintain silence if there is any chance that my words will help to keep this child killer imprisoned.

"Hizbullah leader Hassan Nasrallah said on Tuesday that he expects a United Nations “Mediator” to visit Lebanon next week to try to secure a deal for the release of two Israeli soldiers it captured in July.
"He was supposed to come late last week and he is expected to come next week, but negotiations have not yet started," Nasrallah told Al Jazeera television.
He said the envoy was European but gave no further detailsHizbullah’s capture of the two soldiers in a cross-border raid triggered the 34-day war between Israel and the Shiite Muslim group. Hizbullah wants to swap the Israeli captives for Lebanese held in Israeli jails.
Nasrallah told Jazeera no deal would be possible without the release of Samir Qantar, the longest held Lebanese prisoner in Israel. “You ask me will there be a deal without Samir, I say no,” he said. “Absolutely not."
Qantar was captured during an attack in 1979 on northern Israel by a Palestinian terror group in which an Israeli policeman, another man and his four-year-old daughter were killed."

And in case you have forgotten, here is the background on Kuntar. For those who do not have the time here is the short version of the story . Kuntar and some other terrorists broke into an apartment building and murdered some of the residents. I'll let one of the survivors provide the details here:

"They held Danny and Einat while they searched for me and Yael, knowing there were more people in the apartment. I will never forget the joy and the hatred in their voices as they swaggered about hunting for us, firing their guns and throwing grenades. I knew that if Yael cried out, the terrorists would toss a grenade into the crawl space and we would be killed. So I kept my hand over her mouth, hoping she could breathe. As I lay there, I remembered my mother telling me how she had hidden from the Nazis during the Holocaust. "This is just like what happened to my mother," I thought.

As police began to arrive, the terrorists took Danny and Einat down to the beach. There, according to eyewitnesses, one of them shot Danny in front of Einat so that his death would be the last sight she would ever see. Then he smashed my little girl's skull in against a rock with his rifle butt. That terrorist was Samir Kuntar.

By the time we were rescued from the crawl space, hours later, Yael, too, was dead. In trying to save all our lives, I had smothered her."

Kuntar cannot be set free. An animal like this should never be allowed to walk the streets again. I feel for the families of the soldiers, but the price is too high. Set Kuntar free and you guarantee more bloodshed.

I cannot help but wonder about Olmert and company. Have they not learned anything.

A Bullet Proof Toilet

Because when you have got to go, it doesn't matter whether you are in Baghdad, Kabul or cleveland.

"Since the 911 incident, many countries have stepped up their defense against terrorism. For instance, Beijing’s Zhongguan Village square has come up with an innovative product: a bulletproof public toilet! Costing about US$100,000, this special toilet’s exterior remains intact even if ordinary TNT is detonated within.

Initially, the instructions were all written in English and French and hence locals were afraid of entering or using it. However, on August 25th, the instructions were converted to Chinese but the public toilet still remains unpopular."

Click here for the Neatorama link.

We Are Sinking

Wives They Just Aren't What They Used To Be

Back in my university days I had this idea that taking a Women's Studies course would be a great way to meet girls. Boy was I wrong, but that is a post for a different day.

Anyway, this was passed out in class as part of a discussion. I had forgotten all about it and then I stumbled onto it and thought that I'd share it with you all here.

Things have changed just a little.

The Phone Sex Surprise

Sometimes a misdialed telephone can lead to some interesting situations. It was Sunday afternoon. I was heading down the 210 towards Pasadena when my reverie was interrupted by the distinctive ring of cellphone. For those who are curious it was Ray Charles singing 'What'd I say."

I answered the phone and was surprised to hear a man say:

Man: "Maria, when I get to your house I am going to tear off your clothes and ravish your body."
Me: "Uh, are you sure about that. I don't think that I am who you want to speak with."

This is why it is important to listen to what is being said to you.

Man: "I am going to do things to you that will make your body tingle."
Me: "I'd prefer that you didn't."

You would think that he would have noticed that my voice is not the slightest bit feminine, but I suppose that he was lost in his fantasy. So, I figured what the hell and went with it.

Man: "Maria, your body tastes so sweet and your legs are so very fine."
Me: "They are better when they are shaved, but thanks for noticing."

Suddenly, the man on the other end realizes that there is something wrong.

Man: "Who the hell are you and where is Maria?"
Me: "I don't appreciate your tone of voice."

As you can imagine when he realized who he was speaking with he was less than thrilled. I was tempted to ask him where did our love go, but I make a lousy Diana Ross. In no time at all he was threatening me.

Man: "Listen you stupid dickhead. Put her on the phone immediately!"
Me: "Not until you apologize for using profanity."

Ok, it probably was unfair of me to say that, but he was the phone who refused to listen to my initial protestations. Ladies, how do you ever put up with us.

Man: "Fuck you. You stupid jerkoff, I want to speak with her now."
Me: "Sorry, her mouth is full."

This must have been the wrong thing to say because all of a sudden there was a loud bang and a crash. And man, talk about swearing. The dude was spitting blood.

Man: "When I get there I am going to fucking kill you."
Me: "No. You are going to take a deep breath and consider your actions. Then you are going to buy the biggest bunch of roses you can afford and thank G-d that you were smart enough not to do something really stupid."

I am not quite sure what he said because it was basically unintelligible. By this point in time I was fighting hard not to laugh hysterically. It didn't matter because the line went dead and that was it.

For a brief moment I wondered if he would hit redial and whether I had caused a problem. On the other hand, I tried to let him know that he had dialed the wrong telephone number.

This really was yet another example of the old adage of "look before you leap."

Which Meat is Scarier?

Treppenwitz blogged about scary meat today. Allow me to indulge your inner Lazar Wolf with a question, which of these meats is scarier?

You make the call.

This one:


Or This One:

Credit for second shot found here.

How To Tell The Sex of a Bird

It is pretty obvious which one is female, isn't it. ;)

Anger Management

This always makes me smile.

ANGER MANAGEMENT When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.
It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered a phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying, "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. May I please speak with Robin Carter?"

Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.

When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, "You're an asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said: "Hi, this is John Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're interested in the Caller ID program?" He yelled "NO!" and slammed the phone down.

I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too.

I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is." "Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" "My name is Don Burgemeyer," he said.

"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

"I'm home every evening after five."

"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

"Yes?" "Don, you're an asshole."

Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.

So, I came up with an idea. I called Asshole #1.

"Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I screamed back.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name is Don Burgemeyer."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"I live at 1802 West 34th Street, ASSHOLE!

It's a yellow house, with my black beemer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over there right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole."

Then I called Asshole #2.

"Hello?" he said. "Hello, asshole," I said...again, without hanging up.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"

"Yeah, you'll what?" I said. "I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.

I answered, Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way home to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News to let them know about the war going down on West 34th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street.

There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.

NOW, I feel better.

Anger management really works!!!

911- Five Years Later An Angry Rant

I think that I might have OD'd on the 911 memorials. I think that I might have spent a little bit too much time reading about the victims and thinking about the day. I am quite angry and that puts it mildly.

The reality is that I am in more of a place in which I prefer to rant so if you don't like four letter words, are not interested in reading about the things that irritate me or are in desperate need of a restroom now would be a good time to sign off for a bit.

I am tired of reading all of the bullshit that is being spewed about the ABC series. I am tired of it because what I really hear them saying is that they think that the public is too fucking stupid to make up its own mind. I hear the Clintons and members of their cabinet trying to protect themselves and I hear all sorts of Republican claptrap too.

Well here is what I have to say to that. Fuck you and your stupid petty differences. Fuck you to the FBI, CIA, NSA and any other government agency that shirked its responsibility and obligation to the citizens of this country. By not sharing data, by protecting your own turf you helped contribute to one of the worst incidents that this country has ever seen.

As a baseball fan I really want to say "Say it isn't so Joe" but the sad reality is that it is true. We had the information and we could have prevented this tragedy, but we fucked it up and now thousands of people are dead, families are shattered and millions of lives have been irrevocably altered.

In case you are wondering I hold both the Clinton and the Bush administrations responsible for this. I think that they both dropped the ball. And while I am at it let me say that I am ever so tired of reading these fucking stupid comments about Dubya being too scared too act. I am tired of all the "My Pet Goat" comments.

You sound like a fucking moron. The POTUS is human. But let's get to the point. What do you think he could have done differently with seven minutes. How much information can you process in seven minutes.

What would you do if your staff informed you that planes had been hijacked and turned into flying bombs. I have read numerous comments in which people claim that they would have ordered the air force to shoot down airliners.

Ok smart guy. Which planes would you have shot down. You do know that you guarantee a rash of lawsuits and a thousand questions about whether those planes had been hijacked. Hindsight is 20-20.

What we know is that the most likely outcome is that planes that had not been hijacked would have been shot down. You would be responsbile for hundreds of deaths in the air and however many killed/maimed by falling debris from the plane.

You know what else I am tired of. Stop carping about how we squandered the good will of the world. Fuck that noise. This is the same world that watches while Africans kill each other with reckless abandon. The same world that has watched numerous tragedies unfold.

Sometimes you need to take care of your own first and then everyone else. And that brings me to the next point. When are we going to stop pointing fingers at each other and screaming about how bad things are. When are we going to just shut the fuck up and concentrate on fixing some of the domestic problems here.

The list is endless. Too many people are homeless. Too many children go to bed hungry. Too many people are going bankrupt trying to maintain their healthcare. Too many children are receiving substandard educations because we don't care enough to fix the schools.

When are we going to pay teachers what they are worth. Enough is enough. I am done with it all.

The war started before we got into Iraq. There were people who hated us long before any of this. But some of you are so fucking myopic and too fucking angry to see what stands in front of your nose.

This was the SECOND attack on the towers. It is one link on a chain of many attacks on the US as well as the many other attacks that have been launched against the west.

For me the bottom line is this. We have a number of challenges that face us. We have the resources to handle them. We have the ability to overcome them, but as long as we continue the partisan politics we will continue to come up short.

I have had enough of this blather for now. I need a cup of coffee and some fresh air.

As The Bodies Fell- He Played

Not unlike so many others the fifth anniversary of September 11 has been weighing upon me. I have been mulling over my thoughts and feelings and trying to decide what to say. I feel the weight of the moment and it makes me uneasy.

I have waded through hundreds of thousands of words that others have written, listened to audio clips of the day and spent far too much time watching video. My goal is to share my thoughts with you and to do so with as much eloquence and dignity as I can muster.

I am a decent writer, but others are far better than I am so I will leave the longer essays in their capable hands. As for the video, well I think that this time around I'll let others posts their tributes/comments/criticisms on their own sites.

If you are interested in that kind of thing you might want to click here.

It was a Tuesday morning. Here in LA it was like many other mornings but this time my routine was interrupted by a call from my employer. She let me know that there had been an attack and that the office was going to be closed.

When I turned on the television my jaw dropped. I sat there transfixed by the sight of the planes crashing into the towers and the eventual collapse. I was dumbstruck by it all. But what I remember most of all is rather simple.

As I sat on the couch trying to process it all my son played. He was ten months old and oblivious to the pictures of the carnage. He held colored blocks and studied them. He grabbed stuffed animals and hugged them. He took toy cars and banged them on the floor and all the while the television showed the bodies falling from the sky.

The bodies fell awkwardly through the air. Some were still and some moved every which way, as if they were desperately trying to learn how to fly.

The bodies fell and he continued to play. The bodies fell and I stared at him. He was oblivious to it all. I felt guilty and relieved. Guilty because I knew that the people I saw on television were important to someone. A wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a father, a son and or brother.

They were people, but from 3000 miles away they were like specks.

I remember picking up the big boy from the floor. He smiled at me and pulled on my hair. I smiled back and hugged him tightly. I held him in my arms and prayed that the war would end before he was old enough to be at risk.

And now five years later he is old enough to be quite aware of the world around him. We have worked hard to maintain his innocence so that he might be a child for as long as possible. In many ways we have succeeded, but I worry that come monday morning that might change.

I have other 911 stories about the people I knew in the city and the things that happened to them. I was pretty lucky. 911 cost me a lot of money, but that is nothing compared to others.

This summer I was forced to spend some time explaining war to him. This summer he lost a little bit more of his innocence. I am hopeful that Monday will not take more from him.

The picture below is a personal favorite of mine. To me it is a reminder of hope and a symbol that we may have had our nose bloodied but we were not broken. Right now there is a lot of acrimony and partisan bickering, but Osama and company better remember that there is no dispute here about finding them.

There is a long memory and G-d willing they will all be brought to justice. In the interim I offer my own hope and fervent desire that we see a speedy end to the various wars and conflicts and that the coming year is one of peace.

Recycled Rant

Orignally belted out here.

Every now and then I need to vent. I am not talking about the kind of "hold me while I cry" type of venting. There is a time and place for that, but that is not what I am talking about.

No, I am referring to the moments in which I storm around the house, yell and scream and bring out the uncivilized barbarian. Here is a big clue to my identity, that is an old nickname of mine. The Uncivilized Barbarian. I won't bore you with the entire story of how I earned it, but I will share a little glimpse.

Someone once made a bet with me that I couldn't open a steel can of apple juice with nothing more than my hands. I took that bet and I won. Here is the secret of how you too can tear open one of those cans.

1. Tear off the label and identify the seams of the can.
2. Start pounding the can with the flat of your palm. Take care to stress the seams.
3. In time you should see a gap begin to develop between the seams.
4. Carefully pull the seams apart.

That is the four step process I used to win the bet. I was lucky that I didn't cut the hell out of my fingers, but that is in part because I was fearless. That is the beauty of being an 18 year-old male, young, dumb and stupid. But that lack of fear is part of what gets you through some events. You don't know enough to realize how dumb you are acting.

Back to the ranting. When I really am bent out of shape I really do like to yell, or perhaps bellow is a better term. If you believe in astrology you might be interested to know that I am a Taurus. It takes a little time to get me angry but once I am there I want to gore, stomp and destroy.

I have a heavy bag in my garage that I use to blow off steam. Tonight I pounded the bag and cursed a number of people and things.

To the guy driving the beat up Ford that thought it was necessary to speed through the parking lot. You came damn close to hitting me and then had the gall to give me the finger when I yelled. On the off chance you stumble onto this blog may I wish you a hearty fuck you and encourage you to go rub some salt up your ass.

To Hamas I share the same feelings of good will. Here is a novel idea for suicide bombing. The next time you have the urge try shoving a stick of dynamite up your ass and see what happens.

To the jackasses who think that it is ok to beat up children I wish for you to share the terror that those poor kids must feel. What the fuck is wrong with you and why does it feel like every week I read about more kids being murdered by a parent.

What the fuck is up with that. How can you do that. It is hard enough to understand why people murder but this type of destruction is beyond me.

On a slightly different tack but related I have a hearty fuck you to parents who abrogate their responsibilities. You know who you are. You are the people who drop your children off at the play area at the mall and then leave them there unsupervised. You are the people who think nothing of sending a sick child to school. We are not talking about people who are strapped for cash and cannot afford to stay home with the kids. No, this is for those with the means to stay home with the kids but refuse to.

I spent a good part of this evening covered in toddler snot. I ought to go on Fear Factor because I don't know what the fuck those guys can come up with that is any worse than the crap I have been smeared in. I don't like it, but it comes with the job. It is in the description of what your role as a parent is.

Under subsection 1.87 it specifically delineates that your children will sneeze, spit, cough, crap, puke and lick you. And if you are male it also notes that they will find more means to kick the crap out of your testicles than you can possibly imagine.

I grew up with three younger sisters and one older. I am faster, more capable and better prepared to protect that region of my body than an angry junkyard dog and his bone. Yet somehow I have found myself close to being doubled over with more frequency than I care to admit.

Let me tell you how I know that I love my children. It is these moments, the times in which I have been smeared with various substances and the occasions in which one of them has managed to destroy something of mine that I truly understand unconditional love. I grit my teeth and tell them to remember this moment because one day when they are a teenager I'll show up at their school in my underwear and tell them it is payback for that time when they were two.

Tonight I looked out my window and saw that there was a woman walking her German Shepherd in front of my house. I wouldn't have thought anything of it but the freaking animal decided that my front lawn was a fine place for fertilizer and I just knew that she had no intention of cleaning it up.

You may wonder what clued me into this. Probably the fact that I watched her start to walk away. So I ran outside and asked her to clean it up. She offered a fake apology and then told me that she had forgotten a bag to clean up after the dog and got ready to leave.

I was prepared for this and told her that we had a full service establishment and that she would be leaving with a doggie bag. I extended my hand and offered her a plastic grocery bag. She tried to decline but I suggested that she reconsider because somehow I knew that she didn't want her white top to be stained with dog crap.

She did accept and took care of cleaning up and we were able to avoid the literal example of shit flying.

But I still have to ask myself. What the hell has happened to us. Why do so many people feel like they are entitled to leave their crap for someone else to deal with. And related to that why do so many people think that because they are having a bad day they can fling their crap at us without any consideration for the possibility that we might be dealing with our own shit.

Shit, shit, shit. Shit happens. Suck it up and deal with it, but don't expect the rest of the world to always ignore our problems to deal with yours.

In short, the lack of personal accountability has me bent. But that is a story for a different day.

Breakfast With Basil

You can check it out here.

Stupid Weight Loss Tricks

Ok, how many people admit to trying weight loss products such as caffeine tights, diet soap and or the skinny tan spray. Want to learn more?

Click here.

Python-Biting Off More Than It Can Chew

See what happens when you don't chew your food.

"A LITTLE bloating after a big meal is an occupational hazard for pythons. But this unfortunate creature found itself unable to slink away and sleep it off.

In fact, after swallowing a pregnant sheep, it couldn't move at all.

Firemen in the Malaysian village of Kampung Jabor, about 190km east of Kuala Lumpur, easily caught it after it was spotted on a road.

Conservationists were yesterday still deciding whether to keep the 90kg snake in a zoo or release it back into the wild.

Pythons eat no more than once a week but when they open their incredible hinged jaws, anything is fair game.

This 5.5m python found its eyes were definitely bigger than its belly.

In July surgeons were forced to operate on a 4m Burmese python after it inadvertently swallowed a queen-size electric blanket.

Humans also have become victims. In 1972 a python in Burma swallowed an eight-year-old boy."

Just in case you are wondering one of my fear is being eaten by some kind of animal. On the other hand, I am too mean for that to happen.

I should add that this python fared better than the one that tried to eat the alligator.

A Little Daler Mehndi & Some Bollywood Videos

I have to Include this next One:

Pre- 911 Thoughts

I'll write a longer post later about my feelings regarding the upcoming anniversary of 911. In the interim Seawitch turned me onto a Carlos Mencia bit that is not entirely politically correct, but made me smile.

Part of the reason that it made me smile is that he reminded me about some of the immediate aftermath of 911. Specifically, it reminded me about how for a while the people in the US set aside their differences and looked out for each other.

It reminded me about how during a terrible tragedy the name calling ended and we pulled together and looked inward. We spent a little time doing what we could to take care of each other because that is what we need to do.

Like I said, there is a longer post coming so I am not going to spend too much more time writing. But I want to make one thing clear. I despise apologists. I despise those people who think that it is ok to make excuses for the terrorists.

I don't suffer fools who think that they can excuse murderers because they think that they acted in a manner that was consistent with protesting US policy. That is just nonsense. It is as immoral as blaming a woman for being raped because she wore a tight skirt.

It doesn't fly with me. Anyway, here is the video.

Does religion make people better or worse

Dennis Prager writes:

Does religion make people better or worse

"I have devoted much of my life to arguing that religion is the finest vehicle for individuals and societies to become decent, good, moral (you choose the term you prefer). For example, in 2005, I devoted 24 columns to making the case for Judeo-Christian values as the finest system of values ever devised.

However, this advocacy of religion comes with two caveats.

First, the claimed superiority of Judeo-Christian values in no way means that all believing Jews and Christians are good people, let alone better than all other people. There have always been and there are today morally superior individuals in every religion. And there are morally superior individuals among atheists and people of no organized religion.

Second, there is no religion that has not made, or at least enabled, some of its adherents to be morally worse than they would have been had they not adopted that religion.

So our question is not whether there are good or bad people in every religion. The question is whether any given religion is likely to make one who believes in it a better or worse person than he would have been had he not believed in that religion."

Click here to read the rest of the story.

Goodbye Marni- Baruch Dayan Emet

A relatively short time ago I received a telephone call from a dear friend. He quickly handled the standard plesantries and asked me if I had heard the news about Marni Kaufman. By the tone of his voice I knew that whatever the news was it wasn't going to be happy.

Sure enough he said that Marni had died. He didn't know too many details, other than it was cancer.

I can't say that I was close with Marni. Back in high school we took a few of the same classes together, but it would be a gross exaggeration to say that we were anything more than classmates together.

Still, due to various circumstances I knew a bit about her life after high school. You see, the girl that I once knew as Marni Kaufman became Marni Levine. Here is what her obituary in the LA Times said:

LEVINE, Marni E. (37) Devoted mother to Jordyn and Brooke, love of Darren's life, Marni was also an internationally-known instructor in the Israeli self defense system of Krav Maga and founder of Krav Maga Worldwide. Marni, the highest-ranked female Krav Maga instructor in the world, appeared often in the news, from The Today Show to The Los Angeles Times to MTV. She was a co-founder of the Krav Maga National Training Center, one of the largest self defense schools in the world. Marni's courage and spirit inspired all who knew her. She cared deeply for others and devoted her life to making them safer and stronger. Marni trained thousands of students and shared her knowledge with hundreds of instructors. She will be missed by all, and most especially by her husband Darren; her daughters Jordyn and Brooke; her mother and father Bruce and Lynn Kaufman; her brother Lee Kaufman and his wife Tracy; and her brother Mitchell and his wife Michele. Funeral services will be held today Sunday, September 3, at 9 a.m., at Mount Sinai Hollywood Hills. Call 323-489-6000 for information and directions. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the City of Hope.

My condolences go out to her family, especially her daughters. As a father it is just terribly distressing.

On a related note I must add that this bothers me tremendously. I have lost so many friends to cancer. Not just people that were acquaintances, but good friends and people that meant a lot to me. I don't say that to diminish the pain and loss of others, but as a prelude to this next point.

I am 37 years old. I am young. And in my life I can recount the loss of far too many of my peers who have died because of some form of cancer. There have been a handful of brain tumors, stomach cancer and a couple of other versions.

Some people have suggested that I should be concerned because we all come from Los Angeles. But it is not that easy to draw commonalities like that. If you search for patterns you'll see that we all lived in different areas around LA. We didn't all go to the same high schools or colleges.

The docs attributed one of the cancers to an asbestos problem caused by the Northridge earthquake. One of the brain tumors was diagnosed as an Astrocytoma.

Causes and symptoms

The cause of astrocytoma is not known. Brain cancer may occasionally be caused by previous radiation treatments; however, x rays are not believed to play a role. As of 2001, studies have indicated that the moderate use of handheld cellular phones does not cause brain cancer; ongoing research will determine if long-term cellular phone use causes an increase in cancer incidence.

Some studies suggest that brain tumors may occur more frequently in people who have occupational exposureto certain chemicals, including some pesticides, formaldehyde, vinyl chloride, phenols, acrylonitrile, N-nitroso compounds, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, lubricating oils, and organic solvents. The greatest risk is associated with exposure before birth or during infancy.

There is a slightly higher incidence of astrocytoma in the siblings and parents of people with this tumor; however, only one type of astrocytoma is known to have a genetic cause. The rare subependymal giant cell astrocytoma occurs in conjunction with tuberous sclerosis, a hereditary disorder.

And there you have it, they don't know exactly what caused it. It could have been exposure to any number of things. Who the hell knows what.

Here is what I do know. I find it distressing to think about how many of my peers are gone. In high school and college I lost a number to drunk drivers and or other auto accidents. Those weren't great either, but for me it was easier.

Anyway, what this reminds me is that I am a very, very lucky man. Life is precious and I am grateful for the time that I have. Hug the people you love and let them know that they are special to you.

Again to Marni's family, I am so sorry.

Baruch Dayan Emet.

It Used to be Cool But Now I am Embarrassed

On the way home from work I was stuck in traffic and was trying to think about a topic for the blog and here is what I came up with. I have an incomplete list of things that I used to think were cool but am embarrassed about.

1) I used to be disappointed that I couldn't grow a mullet.
2) Somewhere there is a picture of me dressed like I was Crockett or Tubbs. You pick, it doesn't matter.
3) It was never cool, but there are a couple of Celine Dion songs that I onced enjoyed.

What things do you want to share?

Gaza Docs Claims- Almost Libelous

Stories like this are just infuriating. I have a hard time believing that the docs and people involved really believe any of this. But they know that the media will cover these stories even if there is no proof.

I added the emphasis in bold.

"While a report from the Hamas-run Ministry of Health said the injuries raised the possibility Israel could be using "unprecedented" projectiles with "radiant" substances, the medics acknowledge that there is no proof so far of their claims. They also admit that the difficulty of establishing the exact cause of death is greatly exacerbated by the reluctance of most bereaved Palestinian families to allow autopsies."

Am I the only one who is troubled by this. Am I the only person to question the media's lack of accountability here and their abdication of their responsibility to try and provide proof of allegations prior to airing them.

This is just shameful.

Morality Without Religion- A Comment to The Self-Righteous Part II

Part one generated quite a bit of feedback both online and off so I thought that I would follow up with a couple of thoughts/clarifications.

I am not adverse nor anti-religion. As I said in my initial post I think that it has a valid role in the world. I believe in G-d. I am very much a proud Jew.

All that being said I haven't changed my position that some people are under the misguided impression that the non religious have no moral compass. And based upon personal experiences as well as those of others I find the self-righteous attitude of some to be irksome.

To clarify further, I have a number of friends who are now BT. They are in different places on the derech, some are relatively recent and others have been there for years. I also have a number of friends who are FFB.

Some of my BT friends and their acquaintances have shared certain thoughts with me. Specifically they have spoken about how empty they felt their lives were and that becoming BT had given them something that they were missing.

I have been to various kiruv shiurim in which similar thoughts were shared and it was suggested that any unhappiness or depression we felt was because we hadn't opened our hearts to hashem.

I am sure that this is the case for some people, but it isn't for me. As I mentioned in the prior post, I take issue when people suggest that I wear a sweater because they are cold.

Simple as that.

This Song Just Gets to Me

Some love burns too brightly.

She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night

1st Chorus
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees
We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

(Sing lullaby)

The rumors flew but nobody know how much she blamed herself
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
Until the night

2nd Chorus
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life
We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

(Sing lullaby)
Brad Paisley

Labor Day List of Posts

My Son's First Day of School

Rocky Horror Picture Show Time Warp

Stat Counter Says These Are Popular Posts

Morality Without Religion- A Comment to The Self-Righteous

My Son's First Day of School

The grand adventure begins tomorrow, or perhaps I should say that it continues. My eldest is heading off to kindergarten. After much stress and debate we decided to send him to day school. I don't know who is more excited, him or me.

We spent a big chunk of the day at my folk's house where we enjoyed a fabulous Labor Day barbecue and talked about what it is going to be like to be in kindergarten. I told him a little bit about my experience and related how it was way back in kindergarten that I met G.

In a corner of the living room my father, grandfather and I shared stories about what school was like for us. The kindergarten classes of 1919, 1948 and 1974 recounted tales that in some ways will not be so different from the class of 2006.

In some ways it was rather surreal how some things never change. I began school a relatively short time before the end of the Vietnam War. My father was a few short years after WWII and my grandfather started during WWI. Not a very impressive comment about people, is it.

Anyhoo..........

We spent a little time getting his school supplies together. There were new kippot to buy, a new backpack, some pants, shirts, a couple of books and some assorted odds and ends. And throughout all of this there was this little smile on his face and a look in his eyes that made it clear that he is aware that this is a big event.

I suspect that tomorrow is going to be hard for me. He is so very big now. I used to carry this little boy tucked into the nook of my arm. I could hold him and pretend to be the Heisman Trophy. But not anymore.

From time to time he still falls asleep in the car and I still get the chance to carry him in to bed. Only now when I hold him I feel his feet dangling against the middle of my legs and at 45 pounds he has metamorphed from a light package to something more challenging. Now on the odd occasions that I have more than a five minute walk from the car to the bed I begin to notice the extra weight.

The baby talk disappeared ages ago. He still makes the occasional mistake. The other day he said that he wanted to be the betterest but the big guy doesn't ever call me da da anymore. He doesn't always want to crawl into my lap to play with his toys. Oh, he'll still do it from time to time but I see the impact of the older brothers and sisters of his friends and I see him weighing things.

He is more cautious about doing things that mark him as being a baby.

Tonight as he lay down to go to sleep he asked me if Grandpa S. knew that he was going to start school. I said that I thought so and he told me that he missed him and I said that I did too. And then he told me that he loved me and asked if I thought that my daddy missed his daddy.

He is really starting to understand it all. He gets that grandpa is not coming back. He told me that he wished that Grandpa was still here because when he learns how to read he wants to read him a story.

I was happy that it was dark because that caught me off guard. My grandfather would have so very much loved to have heard that.

Well, I have rambled and muttered enough. Hold onto your loved ones and hug them tight because time has a way of moving all too quickly.

In a few short hours my little man will walk into class and I'll head off to work. If I pass you in the parking lot you'll forgive me if I don't look up or say goodbye because I think that even though it is a happy day it is going to be a hard moment.

Rocky Horror Picture Show Time Warp

Who Wants to Dance!

Stat Counter Says These Are Popular Posts

So if you want to know what my stats say you the readers like the most, here is a quick snapshot. On a side note, you'll notice that Haveil Havalim is repeatedly mentioned. These always create and maintain a surge of traffic.

Enjoy!

1. yalla ya Nasrallah - song from Israel
2. Three Days in Israel- Graphic Images
3. What Do You Call Your Blog?
4. It Was a Bad Date
5. Haveil Havalim #54 Big and Beautiful
6. Haveil Havalim #72- Handed Down From the Mountaintop
7. Japanese Chair Ejector Video
8. My Penis Died
9. Another Moment In Time
10. Haveil Havalim #61- Call Me Roger Maris
11. Love That Takes Your Breath Away
12. What Are Your Favorite Song Lyrics?
13. Happy Holidays is An Appropriate Greeting
14. Haveil Havalim #43
15. Give Me Time and I will Be Rich, Rich, Rich
16. The GermoPhobe
17. What The Hell Happened to Courtesy
18. Fall in love and risk a police thrashing
19. A Soldier Says Tefilat Ha-Derech
20. The Ginsu Knife
21. A Little Digestive Distress- Chicken Vindaloo
22. The tears that do not fall

Morality Without Religion- A Comment to The Self-Righteous

"But Taurus do have hot tempers.
It takes a lot to get Bulls to see red, but once they
do, you won't forget it!"

I am a very passionate man. Those who believe in Astrology say that the description of a Taurus fits me well. It would be fair to say that right now I am spitting blood and ready to stomp on a few heads. This is why I blog, because it is a safe and peaceful way to vent.

There are a number of issues that have attracted my ire, but I am going to focus on one thing in particular. Some people are under the misinformed and misguided idea that a person cannot live a moral and ethical life without the constraints of religion.

This is quite simply patently false. Unfortunately I have found that many of the BTs and assorted religious folk that I have encountered think otherwise. I have often heard them make self-congratulatory remarks about how prior to seeing the light they engaged in self-destructive behavior that made them feel hollow and morally bankrupt.

Folks, this is similar to the alcoholic claiming that because they cannot control their drinking no one can. I don't need to wear a sweater because you are cold.

It is entirely possible and not unprecedented or unusual for people to be good without religion. One can understand that it is better to live a moral and ethical life because it is the right thing to do. One can do this without fear of eternal punishment or because they desire eternal pleasure.

It is not that hard to recognize that if you are honest and good life it makes life nicer for everyone.

Does that mean that everyone can live without religion and be good? No, it doesn't. Some people require additional structure.

(Here is where I am going to be self-righteous) The reason that my POV is superior to the other I illustrated is because of my POV assigns credit and accountability to people. It provides a foundation in which it is understood that people have the ability to be good without a religious framework and that they will freely choose this.

Look, if religion helps you to be a better person. If you think that being a Torah observant Jew or a Good Catholic keeps you on the straight and narrow, more power to you.

But please remember that not all of us require that.

End o'Rant.

Belly dancing forbidden even in full dress

Just got the news from Jameel. Fortunately my rav takes a different POV.

A young religious girl recently posted a question on the Moriah bible study Internet site: "Does Jewish law permit belly dancing in full dress in front of a female audience to the sound of Arab music?"

Rabbi Moshe Amie, a religious Zionist rabbi, was forced to disappoint the young woman.

What is common today and what used to be prevalent in Jewish communities overseas is very different, said the rabbi.

"Although it was common to listen to Arab music in eastern communities, it was the typical music of the time," he said.

Click here to read the whole story.

BOMS #145

It is live here.

Stingray kills 'Crocodile Hunter'

SYDNEY, Australia (CNN) -- Steve Irwin, the Australian TV presenter known as the "Crocodile Hunter," has died after being stung in a marine accident off Australia's north coast.

Australian media reports say Irwin was diving in waters off Port Douglas, north of Cairns, when the incident happened on Monday morning.

Irwin, 44 was killed by a stingray barb that went through his chest, according to Cairns police sources. Irwin was filming an underwater documentary at the time.

Ambulance officers confirmed they attended a reef fatality Monday morning off Port Douglas, according to Australian media.

Queensland Police Services also confirmed Irwin's death and said his family had been notified. Irwin was director of the Australian Zoo in Queensland.

He is survived by his American-born wife Terri and their two children, Bindi Sue, born 1998, and Robert (Bob), born December 2003.

I am so sorry for his family.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

This story is somewhat disheartening.

Katrina rescuer is sued by boat owner

A Broadmoor man who said he rescued more than 200 residents after commandeering a boat during the flood after Hurricane Katrina is being sued by the boat's owner for taking it "without receiving permission."

Mark Morice, who by the Wednesday after the storm said he "couldn't get more than a block or two without people screaming to me for help," took the boat "out of necessity. . . . I did it for my neighbors."

Among them was Irving Gordon, a 93-year-old dialysis patient who Morice carried from his flooded home, placed in the boat and rescued from distress.

"I don't know where we would be today if it weren't for him," Molly Gordon, Gordon's wife of 65 years, said Friday.

The lawsuit contends that boat owner John M. Lyons Jr. suffered his own distress, in the form of "grief, mental anguish, embarrassment and suffering . . . due to the removal of the boat," as well as its replacement costs.

E. Ronald Mills, Lyons' Metairie lawyer, who filed the suit in 24th Judicial District Court in Jefferson Parish earlier this month, on Friday accused Morice of "hubris."

Click here to read the whole story.

Haveil Havalim # 85

This week's HH is up at Daled Amos.

The Oakland Raider Effect

Is It Rubber or Tweel

Future Tire is a Tweel

Tired of checking your tires for air? No problem!

Having enough air in our tires is a safety check American's just don't seem to be able to handle. Now, Michelin may take air out of the safety equation with their revolutionary new "Tweel," a combination of tire and wheel that rides on rubber permanently attached to flexible spokes fused with a flexible wheel that deforms to absorb shock. Checking tire pressure, fixing flats, highway blowouts and balancing between traction and comfort could all fade into memory—if the Tweel becomes real.

Who You Gonna Call

Baby Toupee

Baby Toupee

Why? We all know that babies naturally look like old men. Why would you do this.