The Impact of My Actions

Sometimes the most frustrating posts to write are those that are the most heartfelt. These are the posts that make me tear my hair out. They generally come in the midst of some sort of crazy moment in my life.

For a while it felt like the best way to describe my life was drama. And let me tell you, that is not how I want it. Although it may appear otherwise my desire has always been to have a relatively boring life. Give me and my loved ones good health, the ability to live the way we want to and Jack is a happy man.

I don't need all of the craziness. I have had enough. Last week a friend of the family died. It was unexpected. It was shocking. It was just days after Yom Kippur. They had a major heart attack just after Rosh Hashanah. Unetaneh Tokef always affects me, but this time it had extra meaning.

Tom and I have had multiple conversations about his situation. Most of them involve the two of us shaking our heads about the absurdity of life and how naive we once were. It is not like either of us consider ourselves to be gurus or world class philosophers. We don't. But as people who no longer think of middle age as being old it is clear that we have a little life experience beneath our belts.

As we share a moment discussing our thoughts I sit there and silently consider the impact of my own actions on those around me. I have a graphic imagination. Inside my head I picture myself skipping rocks on a pond. I can see myself dropping a stone into the pond creating little circles around its passing.

Everything I do impacts the people around me.

Fast forward to a conversation between my son and myself. I am trying to explain this to him. I don't do a very good job of it. I am too busy trying to explain why people work and why you hope that you love what you do. It is a little beyond him. He wants to know what I do at recess at my office.

When I explain that we don't have recess he tells me I should quit and find a job that does. If teaching paid enough I would have stayed in it. I don't tell him that or even tell him that I used to be a teacher. I am not hiding it from him, just hasn't come up yet. There are some things that a child doesn't need to know, such as that I was once recruited to be a sex phone operator. In case you are wondering I didn't do it. Didn't pay much and wasn't that interesting to me.

Confession time. If it would have paid enough I might have done it. It was tough being a poor college student. Then again, it is getting harder to say for certain what I would have done 20 years ago as I am not who I once was.

Someone out there is reading my posts with great attention to detail. In fact they are reading certain posts twice. Sometimes I leave hidden messages for them and sometimes they are overt. Sometimes I get notes from other people wondering if I am sending them hidden messages. I tell them to put on their tinfoil hats and to click their heels together.

Here is a secret message: M.L.B.F. Noah is an uncle and a monkey which is why the book started to cry. That is better than breathing heavy or getting pulled over by the police. It burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire which is why I keep a junebug close to me. Creamy delight coats the night.

Speaking of secret messages I haven't ever sent a telegram, but I have seen it on television enough to know the protocol. See if I was in a movie I'd send my girl a message like this:

Trapped in an elevator STOP Thinking of you STOP Will Break Free STOP Coming For You STOP Our Love Forever STOP

Does anyone out there know Morse Code? How about Morris the Cat.

Ok, that should satisfy the seven conspiracy theorists that haunt this blog. It is kind of cool to know that they are haunting the blog. It warms the cockles of my heart. Every time I use or hear that word I think of my grandfather and his dear friend Molly Malone.

Full Stop. End of Post. End of Blog.

Hell Has Frozen Over

Look at what YNET is reporting:

Chairman: UN unbalanced towards Israel

Chairman of UN Human Rights Council Doru Costea says body was concentrating too much on human rights violations by Israel. 'Council must look at the stance of all sides, not only one country,' he states

The UN Human Rights Council has failed to handle the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in a balanced fashion, the council's chair Doru Costea said in an interview published Saturday.

Costea suggested in the interview with the daily Le Temps that the council was concentrating too much on human rights abuses by Israel, adding that he was dissatisfied.

"On this point, the council has failed," he said, days after US President George W. Bush attacked the body for perceived anti-Israeli bias.

"The council must remain simple, and concentrate on the human rights dimension, but it must look at the stance of all sides, not only one country."

Costea said that the majority of the 47 seats held by Asian and African countries on the council "gives a certain power, but that does not mean that this power is always used wisely."

Click here for the full story.

Guiness Book Of World Records

One day you might find me in there for something. I don't know what, but I have always played around with doing something that would get me into the book at least once.

LONDON (Reuters) - Australian John Allwood smashed 40 watermelons with his head in just one minute.

Using only one hand, Germany's Thomas Vogel unfastened 56 bras in 60 seconds.

When it comes to the world's weirdest achievers, nothing beats the ultimate accolade -- a place in Guinness World Records for demonstrating bizarre skills.

Nothing is too wacky.

Can you catch 77 grapes in your mouth in under a minute, keep nine yo-yo's spinning at the same time, hold your breath for more than 14 minutes or throw a washing machine?

Then Guinness has a spot for you.

The annual compendium, whose latest edition is published on Friday, even has a section entitled Trivial Pursuits.

Few would argue with the title as Guinness lists the globe's finest practitioners at putting the cover on a duvet, kicking yourself in the head and throwing paper aircraft into a bucket.

Italian Michele Santana wins an entry for typing 57 books backwards.

When Does Surveillance Become Intrusive

In a post 9/11 world it is clear to me that certain changes need to be made to improve our security. In concept I haven't a big problem with it, but in practice I find some of this to be troubling as I see potential for abuse of the new rules.

CHICAGO - A car circles a high-rise three times. Someone leaves a backpack in a park.

Such things go unnoticed in big cities every day. But that could change in Chicago with a new video surveillance system that would recognize such anomalies and alert authorities to take a closer look.

On Thursday, the city and IBM Corp. are announcing the initial phase of what officials say could be the most advanced video security network in any U.S. city. The City of Broad Shoulders is getting eyes in the back of its head.

"Chicago is really light years ahead of any metropolitan area in the U.S. now," said Sam Docknevich, who heads video-surveillance consulting for IBM.

Chicago already has thousands of security cameras in use by businesses and police — including some equipped with devices that recognize the sound of a gunshot, turn the cameras toward the source and place a 911 call. But the new system would let cameras analyze images in real time 24 hours a day.

"You're talking about creating (something) that knows no fatigue, no boredom and is absolutely focused," said Kevin Smith, spokesman for the city's Office of Emergency Management and Communications.

For example, the system could be programmed to alert the city's emergency center whenever a camera spots a vehicle matching the description of one being sought by authorities.

The system could be programmed to recognize license plates. It could alert emergency officials if the same car or truck circles the Sears Tower three times or if nobody picks up a backpack in Grant Park for, say, 30 seconds.

Why Men Are Happier Than Women

An article in the New York Times caught my eye today. It is called He’s Happier, She’s Less So. I am going to grab a couple of excerpts here to share with you.

Last year, a team of researchers added a novel twist to something known as a time-use survey. Instead of simply asking people what they had done over the course of their day, as pollsters have been doing since the 1960s, the researchers also asked how people felt during each activity. Were they happy? Interested? Tired? Stressed?

Not surprisingly, men and women often gave similar answers about what they liked to do (hanging out with friends) and didn’t like (paying bills). But there were also a number of activities that produced very different reactions from the two sexes — and one of them really stands out: Men apparently enjoy being with their parents, while women find time with their mom and dad to be slightly less pleasant than doing laundry.

Alan Krueger, a Princeton economist working with four psychologists on the time-use research team, figures that there is a simple explanation for the difference. For a woman, time with her parents often resembles work, whether it’s helping them pay bills or plan a family gathering. “For men, it tends to be sitting on the sofa and watching football with their dad,” said Mr. Krueger, who, when not crunching data, enjoys watching the New York Giants with his father.

This intriguing — if unsettling — finding is part of a larger story: there appears to be a growing happiness gap between men and women.

And

Women are not actually working more than they were 30 or 40 years ago. They are instead doing different kinds of work. They’re spending more time on paid work and less on cleaning and cooking.

What has changed — and what seems to be the most likely explanation for the happiness trends — is that women now have a much longer to-do list than they once did (including helping their aging parents). They can’t possibly get it all done, and many end up feeling as if they are somehow falling short.

Many of the women in my life complain frequently about their inability to get it all done. This is not to say that all they do is complain, but rather an observation. I can appreciate it. I often feel like I am running like a rat on a treadmill, but sometimes I just jump off. I can't live like that for too long without going crazy. It is just unhealthy for me.

Awful Words

CNN has the link to a Mental Floss story about the etymology of some common words. I found it quite interesting. Here is an excerpt and a link:

1. Dunce

Dictionaries don't play fair, and John Duns Scotus is proof.

The 13th/14th-century thinker, whose writings synthesized Christian theology and Aristotle's philosophy, was considerably less dumb than a brick. Unfortunately for Scotus, subsequent theologians took a dim view of all those who championed his viewpoint.

These "Scotists," "Dunsmen," or "Dunses" were considered hairsplitting meatheads and, eventually, just "dunces."

2.(slipping a) Mickey

When you have to drug somebody against their will (hey, you gotta do what you gotta do), it just wouldn't sound right to slip 'em a Ricardo, a Bjorn, or an Evelyn. It's gotta be a Mickey.

At the turn of the 20th century, Mickey Finn was a Chicago saloon owner in one of the seediest parts of town -- and he fit right in.

Finn was known for serving "Mickey Finn Specials," which probably included chloral hydrate, a heavy sedative. After targeted customers passed out, Finn would haul them into his "operating room" and liberate them of all valuables (including shoes).

Never a Host of the Year candidate, this Mickey seems to have thoroughly earned his legacy, so don't hesitate to use it the next time you drug and rob your own customers.

His Penis Is In The Wrong Place

Fellow parents of young children may be familiar with the moose from Noggin. Today my daughter took a look at the moose (see picture below) and announced that his penis is in the wrong place.

I tried to explain that he has a tail and that this is not a penis. For about five minutes I contended with three year old logic and then I threw my hands up and walked away. I have been defeated by a three year-old girl.

Oy.

Something tells me that she and I will revisit this topic again later.

My Latest Confession

Howdy folks. It is time for my latest confession. I shared an office for a number of years with someone who had a habit of talking to themselves. Let me clarify that, this person would type out emails while simultaneously reading them aloud.

I guess that I sat next to them for far too long because now I often find myself doing the same thing. I suppose that it is not such a bad thing to do. It has its uses. Talk out loud in public places and people will stay away from you, at least that used to be the case.

Now in the age of Bluetooth headsets that may not be true any longer. You can't go out in public anymore without running into people holding invisible conversations. Sometimes when I ride the elevator I stick a finger in my ear and pretend that I am holding on my headset and then I make all sorts of comments.

"You tell the boys back at Langley if they don't patch me through immediately there is going to be hell to pay."

"Hello G-d, It is me Jack. I'd like it very much if you could see that this elevator doesn't break again. The last time that happened I got stuck in here for six hours."

"You tell Spector that he owes me big for making that jury go crazy."

You get the picture. Anyway, the manifestation of the urge to speak out loud while I type probably has some sort of medical term. If you'll excuse me I am going to go search for it.

Vocabulary Time Part IV

It is vocabulary time again. Here is part one, part two and part three.

tem·er·ar·i·ous (tĕm'ə-râr'ē-əs)

adj. Presumptuously or recklessly daring

Ten·tig·i·nous
a.

[L. tentigo, -inis, a tension, lecherousness, fr. tendere, tentum, to stretch.]

1. Stiff; stretched; strained. [Obs.] Johnson.

2. Lustful, or pertaining to lust. [Obs.] B. Jonson.

U·ri·na·tor

n.[L., from urinari to plunge under water, to dive.]
One who dives under water in search of something, as for pearls; a diver.

u·su·fruct (yū'zə-frŭkt', -sə-)
n.

The right to use and enjoy the profits and advantages of something belonging to another as long as the property is not damaged or altered in any way.

The Junk In My Car

My car is full of junk. It is crammed full of all sorts of stuff. Things, items, knick-knacks, they are all in there. I need to do something about it, like call the Wonder Pets...What is gonna work? Teamwork!

The crap in the car is stressing me out. I keep pulling more things out and yet it feels like a bottomless pit. Apparently I have stumbled onto a secret hiding place for children's toys. It is like the secret elephant burial ground. I can't believe the things that the kids have stowed away. Any time now I am going to find my old metal Bionic Man lunch box because I just know that they have buried it in between the seats.

This is not fun. I am not supposed to have the clown car of junk. I clean this sucker out once a week so that this does not happen. Yet somehow the items migrate back in. Part of the problem is that there is a basket full of work materials that has to stay in the car. It is part of the challenge of having multiple offices.

It is a little embarrassing to see this much come flying out of it, but then again maybe I should be impressed. Maybe I should be happy that so much can be stored in this vehicle. Maybe I should write Honda some sort of testimonial letter. Then again, maybe not.

All I know is that the theme from Sanford and Son seems to come on every time I open the door. I'd write more, but it seems that Lamont is here and in need of my assistance. You'll excuse me while I get back to work.

A World Without America

I would have done this differently, but it is interesting nonetheless. I found the video here.

Essays Like This Irritate Me

In short I don't like being told that I am incapable of controlling my sexual desires and that is where essays like this always go, one way or another. Tznius my ass. There are reasons why clothing may not be appropriate, but this is just...

The law in Ontario already allows women to inappropriately bare themselves, but most women clearly prefer to keep their clothes on.

If nudity is what one desires, there are many nudist colonies and secluded places where nudity will not be disrespectful to others who don't wish to see nakedness. Why would someone feel the need to bare private body parts in public except to gain attention?

It is not in the best interests of women or men for women to expose themselves. Parents don't want their children to have to see that. Wives don't want their husbands to see that.

Many men may want to see that, and you will probably gain their attention by exposing yourself, but there are also many men who are committed to their wives and families who don't want to be tempted by someone who isn't their own wife and the mother of their children.

Breasts are a beautiful, sexual part of the body and inexplicably desired by men. Expecting men to stop being attracted to breasts is an unnatural and unrealistic demand. It would be as silly as asking a dog to stop liking rawhide.

There is nothing perverted or filthy about men being attracted to women's breasts, or about parents wanting to protect their children from sexuality that belongs in the realm of adults.

We need to show respect to others, and showing respect means keeping private body parts covered.

15 Minutes of Fame- No Thank You

They say that everyone receives their own 15 minutes of fame. This is NOT how I'd want mine to go. Talk about grounding. Ouch.

AN Croatian motorbike rider was knocked unconscious when lightning struck his penis during a roadside toilet break.

Metro.co.uk reported Ante Djindjic, 29, escaped relatively unscathed from the incident, suffering only light burns to his chest and arms.

He said: "I don't remember what happened. One minute I was taking a leak and the next thing I knew I was in hospital.

"Doctors said the lightning went through my body and because I was wearing rubber boots it earthed itself through my penis."

Worth A Post of Its Own- Jewish Weddings

A post that ran last week called Robbing The Bride and Groom has provided a lot of food for thought and a reasonable discussion about a topic that could easily degenerate into name calling. The following comment by Kol Raash Gadol made a big noise and got my attention. I thought that it was worth highlighting.

Bringing comfort to the parents for the wedding? Do you think that dual clergy will do that? Or will it just make each side equally unhappy?

As I mentioned, it's not possible to do a jewish wedding if one of the partners aren't Jewish; any rabbi who says it is, is acting in ignorance - or lying. Jewish weddings are a contractual arrangement between two Jews according to the laws of Moses and Israel.

If one of the parties is not subject to the laws of Moses and Israel, then how can the marriage contract be effected? It can't.

There's nothing wrong with people who aren't Jewish. They're just as lovable as anyone else, just as lovely and noble, and kind and smart -that's why it's the dating stage where one has to be careful about who one is with. By the time you fall in love it's too late.

If it matters enough to someone to be Jewish, to have a rabbi at the wedding, then it should matter enough to have a Jewish home. To have a Jewish home, it's very verydifficult if one partner isn't Jewish. The study that came out last year reconfirmed what we already knew anecdotally: how Jewish you are depends almost entirely on who you have around you. If you want your kids to be Jewish, it's important to have a jewish spouse and for them -and you- to have a Jewish friends and a community.

The rabbis were no fools; they were right about the necessity of a minyan.

BY having dual clergy, you aren't making people feel better, you're lying to both the people who are being married by saying that there isn't really any difference between one marriage ceremony and another.

IMO, if you can't decide it would be wise to put off the ceremony until someone picks, or have a civil ceremony, which is essentially the idea underlying dual clergy; that the marriage is a civil act, and not a religious one.

I know this sounds harsh, but I understand Judaism to be something that the world needs to continue, that we have a mission, and that that mission cannot be fulfilled if we disappear, and I also believe that it's evil to lie to people and give them to understand that it doesn't make a difference.

I don't think that people who are intermarried are evil - in fact, if one doesn't commit to the idea that Judaism matters, than I agree that it's foolish to insist on not marrying out. If you don't think Judaism matters, staying a Jew out of nostalgia or some misplaced guilt over Hitler is a waste of time, but then I don't think that one should want a rabbi there. And I do think it's a darn shame for any children who might come along later, as they often do.

I Really Should Sleep More

Reuters reports that lack of sleep can be deadly.

People who do not get enough sleep are more than twice as likely to die of heart disease, according to a large British study released on Monday.

Although the reasons are unclear, researchers said lack of sleep appeared to be linked to increased blood pressure, which is known to raise the risk of heart attacks and stroke.

A 17-year analysis of 10,000 government workers showed those who cut their sleeping from seven hours a night to five or less faced a 1.7-fold increased risk in mortality from all causes and more than double the risk of cardiovascular death.

British Teach Foreign Students How To Stand In Line

I know a whole group of people who could use these lessons, not that I think it would work.

LONDON (AFP) - Foreign students visiting Britain are to be educated in the etiquette of queuing for buses, after local users complained about them not observing the conventions of standing in line.

Southern Vectis, which operates buses on the Isle of Wight, off England's south coast, said it was to contact local language schools following several complaints about the behaviour of young students over the summer months.

"On the Isle of Wight we get lots of foreign language students staying with families," said operations manager March Morgan Huws.

"In their cultures, they do not queue for buses where they live and there is a scrum every time a bus turns up, while in British culture there is a nice orderly queue.

"We have had quite a few complaints from residents who queue up in an orderly fashion then all those foreign students push past them.

"What we have said is that we will work with the language schools to provide some instructions on the etiquette of queuing. We won't be marching the students up and down showing them how to queue, we will just leave it up to the group leaders to pass on the information."

Orderly queuing -- as seen during the recent Northern Rock banking crisis -- is seen as a quintessentially British convention. One social anthropologist believes Britons are even capable of forming one-person queues at bus stops.

A Shack Round Up

If you enjoy Gematria you might be interested to know that this is post 5,060. Here is what ran here today.

A Violent Massage- Marriage Counseling & More
This is Not Haveil Havalim #135
Useful information Regarding Pigeons & Mario
I Want to Go To India
Unetanah tokef
Red Sox Fan- I Present Bucky Dent

And your blast from the past includes the following posts:

Minnie The Moocher- Cab Calloway
Altruistic Behavior and Public Service
A Test of Wills Between Father & Son
My Grandparents, Stress and Stuff

A Violent Massage- Marriage Counseling & More

In case you are wondering here are the last five songs on my iPod:

Vincent
Don Mclean
Without You
Harry Nilsson
What I Have Done
Linkin Park
Lux Aeterna
Clint Mansell
Hard Hearted Hannah
Ray Charles

Sunday evening. I am recovering from a busy, busy week and a very rough fast. I have a pinched nerve in my neck that acts up periodically, most often it is noticed during stress. Or should I say that when I am stressed out it is one of three physical signs of my stress. For the past several weeks I have tried to power through it. More often than not I am successful, but not today.

Today it got to be too much and I went and got a massage. Due to poor planning I had to a different vendor. The man who did it was nice, but I swear that he beat me up. It was like a sick scene from a sitcom. He turned me upside down and inside out. My muscles were battered...relentlessly. This experience taught me a valuable lesson. I need to learn how to cry in Chinese in as many dialects as possible. I am pretty sure that I stammered a sentence that included pain...ani bocheh, crying, fuck, damn, ouch, crap and hey that tickles.

It is entirely possible that I might have even begun speaking in tongues. It wouldn't surprise me. Fortunately there is a happy ending. My pinched nerve was beaten into submission and I feel substantially better...physically. Mentally is a different story.

A short time ago my friend Tom asked if he could speak to me about something of a personal nature. Which I always take as code for making some stupid crack about bodily functions. It is an old joke between the two of us, but from the look on his face it became apparent that this was not something funny. The look on his face alarmed me. For a moment I was certain that he was going to tell me that he is dying. And that is something that I have heard too many times in my life. Somewhere in the archives you can find a post where I speak about the two people I know who are dying. You'll notice that I don't write about them very often. Eventually I will, but right now it is too hard.

Anyway Tom relates to me that he is having what he calls severe marital problems and asks for my counsel on this. Over the course of several pots of coffee and hours of conversation he relates a very sad tale and one that I find very troubling. Excuse me while I take a moment to relate the next five songs on my iPod. I need a moment to think.

In the Ghetto
Elvis Presley
Have You Ever Seen The Rain
CCR
Steppin Out With My Baby
Tony Bennett
Tougher Than The Rest
Bruce Springsteen
Dr. Feelgood
Motley Crue

Tom and his wife have been married for ten years now. He and I have known each other for more than a couple of decades so FWIW I can say that I know what he was like in various relationships as well as the marriage. From an outsider's perspective it looked alright. I never thought about them being madly in love, but that is not a prerequisite for being married, not to mention that it is not my place to judge.

Anyhoo, old Tom tells me that for a number of years he has been very unhappy. For a while he kind of just went along with it. To quote him "I thought that somehow we'd find a way to work it out." For one reason or another it didn't happen. He wanted to go to counseling and she didn't. Time passed and he grew more discontent, more upset and less interested in trying to save a love that seemed to be dead.

Gradually their relationship evolved from man and wife into something that was closer to roommates who just happened to share a room. At some point in time he met someone online. They became fast friends and found that they had quite a bit in common including unfulfilling marriages.

Since they lived in different parts of the country their friendship was limited to email and the occasional telephone call. But over time they fell in love and for the past two years they have tried to figure out a way to be together. As I understand it the major dilemma has been their respective children as neither one of them wants them to be hurt.

Are you following along? Good.

Last Tuesday night Tom showed up on my doorstep and asked me to get some more coffee. He looked like hell. Tom said that they are convinced that they have found their besheret and asked me what I thought. I told him that I didn't think that every relationship was meant to last and he nodded his head.

With something that sounded like a muffled sob he asked me how long he had to subjugate his own happiness for that of his children. I took my time answering. If ever there was a pregnant pause, this was it, but I felt the weight of the question. It deserved an honest answer.

I said that I didn't know what to tell him. I can't yell at him and say that he did the wrong thing. I am not in the marriage and frankly to the best of my knowledge he tried to make it work and she didn't. Anyway, I asked him if he wanted to save his marriage and he said no, but at the same time he is afraid for his children.

Trapped.

That is how he describes himself. It is an awful thing to hear. He is fully cognizant of how he get to this place. Now he is at a loss for how to get out of it. You can understand why his story made me think of Unetanah tokef especially this line:

Who shall be at peace and who shall be pursued,

Who shall be at rest and who shall be tormented,

Yesterday as I davened I thought of him. During my shmoneh esreh I pulled my tallis over my head and asked for a solution for Tom. Some challenges are easily overcome and others are more complex. This particular one perplexes me. I keep seeing the look of anguish on his face. So to quote Hebrew National I went looking for help from a higher source.

Conversations like this remind me that I am closer to middle age then teen age. Sometimes I miss the simplicity of those days.

This is Not Haveil Havalim #135

Updated multiple times: I have received more than one email asking how I could just grab Haveil Havalim without permission. Obviously you missed Talk Like a Pirate Day or you'd know you know that Captain Jack- One-eared Dog the Damned doesn't ask permission to do anything. ARRGGGH!!!!!!!!

Hoist the mainsail, swab the decks and read matey!

Welcome to the unauthorized, unofficial and up to now unrecognized edition of Haveil Havalim. Haveil Havalim is the weekly round up of posts of the JBlogosphere.

It is taking a brief hiatus for the chagim. Rumor has that at the break fast it ate too many hard boiled eggs and is suffering from indigestion, or maybe that was me, so you'll forgive me for the brevity of this edition.

Here we go off into the wild blue yonder.

The Waffle King offers Interviewing the Enemy and RALLY IN NEW YORK AGAINST AHMEDINEJAD. Over at Israel Matzav you can learn How to sabotage Ahmadinejad's speech at Columbia. Jewlicious offers their own take on this as well.

Dr. Sanity blogged about CHOICES (or, Do Two Half-Wits Make A**Hole?).

Seraphic Secret is among the many who ask what is wrong with Columbia University. LGF has a video that ties into all of this. Check out: Ahmadinejad: 'If the World Is Calm, Europe Will Eradicate the Zionists'. You might also want to read Lee Bollinger, Tough Guy.

Take a look at Irrational in Iran: Plans drawn up to bomb Israel.
Shiloh Musings provided The Olmert Troika. Joe Settler says the War Has Begun.

In other news Treppenwitz reports The Pina Chama was robbed! It is an important post that you should read carefully. Daled Amos served What Would Mearsheimer and Walt Say About The Czechoslovakia Lobby?

Maybe we should have elected Billy Carter. Check out Mere Rhetoric's post entitled Jimmy Carter: Iran Is Nothing To Worry About.

Ezzie has his own roundup of Yom Kippur posts. Take a look. Ren Reb shares a few of her thoughts from Yom Kippur. RWAC has his own post Yom Kippur thoughts as does Ra'anana Ramblings and lets not forget Shira either. Jacob reminds us that there are No Guarantees in Life. Gil has his own Musings. Therapy Doc provided her own thoughts too. And by all means remember to read If You Must.

Some more to read Juggling Frogs and Rabbi Sedley.

Elie has a touching post called May It Be Your Will as does Shifra's tribute to her brother.

It might be nice to go back in time so that I could countdown my own 30th birthday again. Birthday celebrations tied up A Bisele Babka. LOR has some videos that just might make you smile. Rafi is building a Sukkah.

You might enjoy Rosh Hashanah: The Book of Life & Death and Next Year In Jerusalem.

How about listening to A Hard's Day Night in Yiddish. Aussie Dave is slowly building his own army. Cro-Magnon man is back at the keyboard. Biur Chametz is still on an extended break. Apparently so are Amishav, AbbGav and so is the Shmata Queen.

Elisson shares an interview. KRG shared Polish Hip Hop Bhangra. Now there is something you don't see every day.

And now a moment of silence for famous Jewish Mime, Marcel Marceau.

Ok folks, I have to get back to real world doings. Hope you are all recovered from the chag. See you later.

Useful information Regarding Pigeons & Mario

Thanks to the magic of the internet I am pleased to present you with some useful information regarding pigeons and Mario of Mario brothers fame.

Mario was first seen in the video game Donkey Kong, but he was called "Jumpman." He was also a carpenter then, not a plumber.

Mario was named after Mario Segale, the landlord of Nintendo of America’s office, who barged in on a company meeting demanding an overdue rent.

Shigeru Miyamoto drew Mario as wearing a cap because he found drawing hair difficult. He also drew in the moustache, because it was easier to see than a mouth in the crude video game screen resolution back then.

For More information use this link.

On to pigeons:

To keep alive in the wild, a pigeon needs to keep its eyes open for predators. Having eyes on the side of its head gives it a field of view of 340 degrees and, in order to fly at speed, its brain can process visual information three times faster than a human’s. If a pigeon watched a feature film, 24 frames per second would appear to it like a slide presentation. They would need at least 75 frames per second to create the illusion of movement on screen. (This is why pigeons seem to leave it until the very last second to fly out of the way of an oncoming car: it appears much less fast to them.)

For more information on pigeons click here.

When A Bull Attacks What do you Do

Basically you sit back and watch him trash your home. I have to say that Dept. of Agriculture's response impressed me. Oh brother.

KILLINGLY, Connecticut (AP) -- An escaped and raging bull attacked a neighbor's home, tearing off siding, ripping down part of a fence and damaging a car.

Wayne Johnson said he found the bull in his yard Friday morning. It had wandered in from a nearby farm.

While he watched, the bull repeatedly charged his house, tore off clapboards, flipped a picnic table, rammed his car and tore down part of the fence around his swimming pool, he said.

"He was crazy," Johnson said. "The thing was ripping my house apart."

Johnson called police, who called the state Department of Agriculture. They suggested finding the farmer who owns the animal.

I Want to Go To India

India intrigues me. It is on my list of places to visit. I know quite a few people who have been there with mixed results. For the most part the stories I have been have been quite positive. I can't tell you exactly why I am interested, just that I am.

On a somewhat related note I have been listening to some Daler Mehndi videos. Too bad I don't speak Hindi, I wonder what it is he saying.

Unetanah tokef

It never fails- this just grabs me:

We shall ascribe holiness to this day.

For it is awesome and terrible.

Your kingship is exalted upon it.

Your throne is established in mercy.

You are enthroned upon it in truth.

In truth You are the judge,

The exhorter, the all‑knowing, the witness,

He who inscribes and seals,

Remembering all that is forgotten.

You open the book of remembrance

Which proclaims itself,

And the seal of each person is there.

The great shofar is sounded,

A still small voice is heard.

The angels are dismayed,

They are seized by fear and trembling

As they proclaim: Behold the Day of Judgment!

For all the hosts of heaven are brought for judgment.

They shall not be guiltless in Your eyes

And all creatures shall parade before You as a troop.

As a shepherd herds his flock,

Causing his sheep to pass beneath his staff,

So do You cause to pass, count, and record,

Visiting the souls of all living,

Decreeing the length of their days,

Inscribing their judgment.

On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed,

And on Yom Kippur it is sealed.

How many shall pass away and how many shall be born,

Who shall live and who shall die,

Who shall reach the end of his days and who shall not,

Who shall perish by water and who by fire,

Who by sword and who by wild beast,

Who by famine and who by thirst,

Who by earthquake and who by plague,

Who by strangulation and who by stoning,

Who shall have rest and who shall wander,

Who shall be at peace and who shall be pursued,

Who shall be at rest and who shall be tormented,

Who shall be exalted and who shall be brought low,

Who shall become rich and who shall be impoverished.

But repentance, prayer and righteousness avert the severe decree.

Red Sox Fan- I Present Bucky Dent

Of course if you are a real fan you have a colorful middle name for him, Bucky F. Dent. If you don't know what the F. stands for I'll let you guess.

Letting Love Go

Still working on more Fragments of Fiction. One of these days I have to take the Fragments and weave them together.

I got the call in the middle of the night. The sharp ring of the telephone startled me awake. For a brief moment I thought that it was the alarm clock and got ready to go shower and get ready for the day. The continued ringing made me realize my mistake and I picked up the handset. With a muffled voice I mumbled something into the phone and waited for an answer.

The response made me gasp and go numb. It wasn't like the movies. I didn't drop the phone. I didn't start to scream hysterically or sob. I just lay there in disbelief. You were gone. Death had robbed us of our future and now I had no future.

Ok, none of that actually happened. I sometimes wish that it did. It is kind of perverse to say that sometimes I wish that something so terrible had taken place. But sometimes it hurts too much to admit that I am the reason that our love was lost. The best thing in my life is gone because I let it go.

My grandmother used to say that the really lucky people fall in love three times. Two of them were to prepare you for the love of your life. I used to chuckle at the idea of training relationships. I told grandma that I'd like to quote her but I didn't want my lover to worry which number they were. The last thing I wanted to deal with was a fight based upon insecurity and a quote like that seemed destined to create distress.

I never imagined that one day I would sit here and wish that I had paid more attention to grandma. She was so very right. I have been in love more than once, more than twice. In fact you can say that grandma was right because the third time was more powerful than the first two combined. And it was only because I had been in love before that I realized so very clearly the superiority of the third.

Chances are that most of you have seen a movie or two that deals with this very topic. Two people fall madly in love and seem prepared to ride off into the sunset of a perfect life. However the dream is interrupted and somehow they are torn apart leaving broken hearts and the question of whether they'll ever find their way back to each other.

People like happy endings. They like to see the couple figure overcome the obstacles in their path reuniting in triumphant harmony.

My story doesn't have that happy ending. My story has all of the elements I listed above, except one. At the end there is no couple. There is only heartbreak and the bitterness of unfilled potential.

I Saw You At Tashlich Part II- Yom Kippur Edition

You may recall the Tashlich adventure in which I spotted two bloggers that I know from the blogosphere but not in real life.

Well I ran into the two again. This time it was at shul, no big surprise today. Had I not been chasing children I might have introduced myself. They had found prime real estate outside. It was a great spot just off of a courtyard and an entryway into the main building.

Although I must admit that the mischievous part of me thought that it was quite funny that we said hello and smiled at each other, knowing that I knew who they were but that they hadn't picked me out yet.

I don't know if they ever listened to any of the silly audioblogs I used to do, but if they had it is possible that my voice would have sounded familiar to them. Anyway, I don't know about you, but I am relieved that the fast is over and the the day is slowly drawing to a close. I'll post more about this later.

Yom Kippur- Besheret- Judgment & More

In a few short hours Kol Nidre will begin, Yom Kippur will start and judgment day will begin. That sounds a bit dramatic and in some ways it is. I don't have it in me right now to give a proper introduction or background. So if you would like to learn more specific details about Yom Kippur you can go here.

Yom Kippur is a hard day for me. It is hard for a whole host of reasons. Somewhere deep inside my head are the memories of a little boy being taught about who would be inscribed in the book of life and who would not. I can almost hear the voice. It is a sing song, who shall live and who shall die. If you take that kind of thing seriously it is hard not to feel the weight of the day.

In recent years I have become quite conscious of when people die. By that I mean those who die right before the chagim really strike me. I guess that I kind of visualize the year as a race, a combination of sprint and marathon. Of course not everyone finishes the race, but to me the deaths of those who fall just before the finish line (Rosh Hashanah/Yom Kippur) seem harder. I can't help but wonder why they weren't given a little more time, just enough to watch the clock turn and start the new year.

This past year had some tough moments. A good friend had a complete breakdown. They went from being normal (whatever that means) into something else. Coherent thought disappeared and reappeared.

A dear friend of the family suddenly dropped dead. One moment he was there and the next he was gone. There wasn't any miracle, no last minute reprieve from the governor. He was just gone.

A few more marriages ended. They rode the horse as long as they could and that was it. In one case I think that they actually shot the horse and then in their anger and pain they took it out on each other.

Earlier this week they found another family friend lying on the floor of her office. A massive heart attack hit her. The estimate that she was down for about five minutes. Right now she lies in the ICU and it is unclear whether she will recover and if she does, what kind of shape will she be in.

There are other stories that I could tell. They probably aren't that different from anyone else. We're here for a brief moment in time, the flame burns for only so long.

In happier news a friend told me that he has discovered his besheret. We had a very interesting discussion that I may turn into a separate post. The gist of it is that we debated what impact life experience has upon falling in love. Part of the question is whether there is a better time to fall in love, or should I say a better age.

Maturity brings some advantages. The opportunity to learn more about yourself and what you need to be happy can be quite useful. But as I said, that is a discussion for a later day.

All I know is that it was fun to hear the joy in his voice. As he described her you could feel his delight and his unmitigated joy. I wish them nothing but continued joy and love.

Tomorrow I'll continue my tradition of layning Torah. I have the usual apprehension and angst about it, but if I didn't do it I'd be disappointed. It is a honor and a privilege and something that I find adds meaning to the chag.

Just a few more comments about judgment. If I accept the concept/reality of judgment I have acknowledge that my record for the past year is what it is. I will be judged upon that. If I merit a reward or punishment I suppose that this is what will happen.

So I wish you all a G'mar Chatima Tova. I'll see you on the other side.

Dueling Adon Olam's

Click here and here.

Hat tip to Yo Yenta.

Stalin's Jewish Lover

Ynet has an interesting story about Stalin and his Jewish woman.

The communist tyrant Joseph Stalin was known to be an anti-Semite who planned wide-scale purges against the Jews in his latter days. Yet the fact that the Soviet ruler planned to annihilate the Jews did not prevent him from having an affair with a Jewish woman, and to take care of her daughter until her mother passed away. According to some evidence, Stalin may have even married the woman.

The affair was disclosed recently thanks to a letter discovered by an historian named Nicolai Nada. The letter, which was placed on the desk of the general secretary of the communist party Georgi Malenkov in 1953, the day Stalin suffered a stroke, was kept in a classified party file for years.

Just a few months ago those in charge of the file were persuaded to reveal the letter, and this is what it contained:

Dear Comrade Malenkov!

I am the daughter of Ana Rubinstein, the former wife of Comrade Stalin.

As he is in ill health, I ask you to let me see him. He knows me since I was a child.

R. Sabashnikov (Kostiokovski). If it is not possible to see him, I ask you to grant me an audience on a very urgent matter.

Date: 04.03.55

For the full story please click here.

A Few Videos That Caught My Eye

Not all of these are safe for work.

Ernie & Bert as wise guys

Baby Got Back - Gilbert and Sullivan Style

The Band For Musicians Who Can't Dance

Tunak Tun Tun (I defy you to try not to dance to this one)

The Bill To Prevent Ocular Penetration

It is about time they took action about this. ;)

Women Like Male Sweat

Sometimes it is good to be a big sweaty man. ;)

Sept. 18, 2007 - Liz Gabor calls the odor “man sweat.” And though she’s loath to admit it, the aromatic scent makes her feel, as she calls it, a little frisky. “My friends think I’m crazy, but I think male sweat is kind of pleasant and, well, kind of hot,” says Gabor, 28, a customer service rep and happily married mother of two young girls.

Actually I think that this story is kind of interesting. Here is one more excerpt:

According to the Rockefeller and Duke researchers, about 70 percent of adult men and women have the genetic capacity to perceive a particular chemical called androstenone in male body odor. To them, the testosterone-laden substance can take on a pleasant bouquet similar to vanilla or other sweet or woodsy scents. Others who have a functional copy of the gene perceive androstenone as less than pleasurable, akin to the aromatic elixir of stale urine. About 30 percent of adult men and women can’t smell androstenone at all, leading researchers to suspect they might be missing the gene responsible for smelling the aroma.

The Importance of Reading

One of my fans left a few choice words for me on this post.

You are such a maudlin and spineless excuse for a man, Jack. Grow a set of balls and get over it! You're a disgrace to the gender.

{Shudder}

If you can't deal, take the noble way out and jump in front of a train or something. Jesus.

Dear Big Shot,

You lifted that verbatim from the Insults for Dummies guidebook. I understand why, because had you bothered to read you would have seen that you tried to insult me over a work of fiction. That post is part of a story I am writing.

Not to mention that you must feel exceptionally powerful laying out such a strong insult from behind that computer screen ANONYMOUS.

Or maybe I should say, not so anonymous Mr. I left my IP address and all sorts of other crap lying around.

Ok, play time is over. Time to go back to work.

The Round Up With No Links

As usual there is a mix of new posts up here at the Shack. Don't forget to scroll down and check out some of the older materi

The Day After

This is a continuation of sorts of The Day Joy Left My Life. I don't like it, but I suppose that I'll just keep working on it.

I am in hell. The pain I feel is indescribable. It is dull, it is sharp, it is rough, it is brutally cold. It is all I can do not to sit here and wallow in the emptiness. I try not to beat myself up. I try not to assign blame. I try and I fail. Failure is all I can see. Everywhere I look are signs that my life is not the life I want to be living. Everywhere I look I find evidence of someone else's life. I used to know that person. I used to be that person, or so I think. That was back when I thought that I was happy.

The person who occupied that body is dead. I can't say when they died, but I know that they did. That is assuming that they ever were really alive. And that is a big question. Were they really alive. Did they really live or were they just kind of getting by.

I am afraid to really ask myself that question. Afraid to admit that maybe I settled. Maybe I took the path of least resistance. The fear is that the answer is yes. The fear is that I am becoming what I hate. The fear is that now that I have known what it means to be alive I will never do so again.

You are/were my air. Every morning I woke up knowing that my best friend would be there. It didn't matter what we did. I just liked spending time with you. It was a more mature and more complete love than anything I had ever known. And that makes its absence all the more palpable. That makes the loss more devastating because I know that if I can't have that love, if I can't be that person I can't let myself feel.

Already I am working on building a wall. Already the defenses are being erected. I can't let myself feel so much pain. I can't stand to feel like such a miserable fool. I can't let the memories of what we had punish me. It sickens me.

It sickens me to sound like a drama queen. It sickens me to feel. It sickens me to think of not feeling. But I can't live like this. I can't stand it. I cannot take the constant ache. The punishment is too great. If you were here I could. If I had some hope I could find the strength.

Want to know what really hurts? It is the idea that one day I might reach a place where the memory of you doesn't cause me to double over in pain. It is the thought that one day it won't hurt at all and I'll wonder why it ever bothered me at all. I'll scratch my head and think that it must have been nothing more than a bad dream.

Love deserves more than that.

The Boys

I need to laugh.

This Song Just Relaxes Me

Hat Tip: Tikkun Olam

Iran Draws Up Plans to Bomb Israel

Those wacky Iranians. Do they really think that anyone believes that they didn't have a set of plans already drawn up. Want to bet that Israel's Syrian air show got their attention.

TEHRAN, Iran (AP) -- The deputy commander of Iran's air force said Wednesday that plans have been drawn up to bomb Israel if the Jewish state attacks Iran, according to the semiofficial Fars news agency.

"We have drawn up a plan to strike back at Israel with our bombers if this regime (Israel) makes a silly mistake," Gen. Mohammad Alavi was quoted as telling Fars in an interview.

Andrew Meyer- You Asked For Trouble

Many of you have probably heard about the student who was tasered at a John Kerry lecture at his university.

I don't know that he needed to be tasered, but I will say that he created the problem. If you watch the video below you can see that his actions precipitated the incident. He intentionally made a spectacle of himself.

Again I am not saying that being tasered was the appropriate course of action but he fought with the police. That is usually going to be a losing hand. Take a look at the video and see what you think.

Yom Kippur & My Daughter

My daughter's class discussed Yom Kippur. As she is in pre-school it was likely a very basic discussion. All I know is that she approached me and said that she has nothing to say sorry for.

I on the other hand am supposed to apologize to her for not letting her watch more Dora.

Kids...

Talk Like a Pirate Day

Ahoy there matey! It is Talk Like a Pirate Day ARGHHHHHHHH! I dost have a pirate name. Call me Captain Jack- One-eared Dog the Damned. Grab some grog and check out the many posts about pirates that have graced the Shack.

Haveil Havalim- The Once & Future Edition- Contains a Pirate Post.
Do You Have An Accent
Pirate Attacks Down Sharply
Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day
The Jewish Pirates of The Caribbean

P.S. If you dost be a slacker you can use the English-to-Pirate translator or face the pointy end of my cutlass.

The Blogger I Used To Be

Sometimes I miss the blogger that I used to be and the blogosphere I used to be a part of. I miss the innocence and freedom. I miss just rambling on about my thoughts without a care. Now I second guess myself. I wonder when the words will be thrown in my face and used to try and hurt me.

I miss feeling like a part of a small community in which everyone looked out for each other.

Maybe this is all nonsense. Maybe these are silly complaints. I seem to make them every six months or so. Maybe I just don't like change. Maybe I am going about nothing and then again maybe not.

Isn't there a place to lament the loss of innocence. Don't we try hard to maintain our children's innocence. Don't we work hard to protect them. We want them to see the snow right after it has fallen in all of its pristine glory. No slush for their eyes.

We encourage them to run and be free. We tell them to make their mistakes and not to worry about it because that is how we learn.

Am I crazy to say that I miss that. Am I a baby for wanting to go back in time. Maybe. Perhaps. Could be. In the end it doesn't matter.

Forward. Always forward. Progress must be made. I know this. I understand this and in truth I want this too.

Dying Languages

This is kind of sad. Lose a language and you lose so much.

"WASHINGTON - When every known speaker of the language Amurdag gets together, there's still no one to talk to. Native Australian Charlie Mungulda is the only person alive known to speak that language, one of thousands around the world on the brink of extinction. From rural Australia to Siberia to Oklahoma, languages that embody the history and traditions of people are dying, researchers said Tuesday.

While there are an estimated 7,000 languages spoken around the world today, one of them dies out about every two weeks, according to linguistic experts struggling to save at least some of them.

Five hotspots where languages are most endangered were listed Tuesday in a briefing by the Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages and the National Geographic Society.

In addition to northern Australia, eastern Siberia and Oklahoma and the U.S. Southwest, many native languages are endangered in South America — Ecuador, Colombia, Peru, Brazil and Bolivia — as well as the area including British Columbia, and the states of Washington and Oregon.

Losing languages means losing knowledge, says K. David Harrison, an assistant professor of linguistics at Swarthmore College.

"When we lose a language, we lose centuries of human thinking about time, seasons, sea creatures, reindeer, edible flowers, mathematics, landscapes, myths, music, the unknown and the everyday."

As many as half of the current languages have never been written down, he estimated."

For the full story please click here.

Not Your Father's Shul

Monty Python Imitates Life

Sometimes art imitates life. As I read the story below I couldn't help but think of Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

Police Question Armless Man In Neighbor's Death

SNELLVILLE, Ga. -- Police questioned an armless man Monday about the death of his neighbor.Relatives of Charles Keith Teer, 47, claim he died after the armless man head-butted and kicked Teer during a fight.

For the full story please click here.

Monday's Round Up

Here is what showed up on the blog today:

The Day Joy Left My Life

Want to Date My Daughter?

Have Shofar, Will Travel

Try Not To Get Too Eggcited

The Power Of Bloggers

The Day Joy Left My Life

Some of the long time readers may recall that I am and have been working on a story. I have a number of entries listed here under the label Fragments of Fiction that I need to incorporate into it.

Anyway, here is the latest entry.

I remember the day that joy left my life. It was the day that you said that you couldn't see me any longer. I don't think that you ever realized just how much you mean and meant to me. It wasn't for lack of my trying to tell you. I did. I truly did. The problem wasn't the effort, it was the means.

I failed.

You left.

I cried.

It hurt.

It still hurts.

Now I sit here in the dark. I can't tell you what time or what day it is. Aside from a couple of trips to the bathroom I haven't left this room. Not to eat and not to shower.

What is my purpose. Was I not given a heart to love you. Was I not given a soul to share with you. Without you I haven't any reason for being. I feel empty. Fragments of who I was are floating around my head. I get brief glimpses of the person I was.

Sometimes I try to grab them. Sometimes I try to snatch them out of the air so that just for one more moment I might feel something, some sort of warmth. I hold the pillow close and pray that your scent never leaves it.

I am not supposed to be like this. I am not supposed to be so dependent upon another. I used to be strong. I used to be happy. I knew joy and I knew bliss. And now they are gone. It is hard to breathe. It feels so cold. The tears roll down my face in silent testimony to my loss. There is nothing left to do. No reason to be.

All I can do is type this letter and hope that I wake up. I pinch myself over an over wishing that I'd just wake up. But I don't.

I can't.

I won't.

Move on. Get up. Try to live my life. These are things that whole people do. They do not belong to me. I claim no ownership over them.

I am shamed and ashamed. I am weak and cowardly. I am so frail. I can't bring myself to do anything.

Your sister tried to hug me and I collapsed. I cannot bear to be touched. The touch just reminds me that the world has ended and I have been left behind. Pain is my sole companion.

She tried to speak, tried to explain. You cannot console me. There are no words. The love that we shared is shattered. The hope is gone and so are you. You cannot help and I cannot hope. Joy has left my life.

Want to Date My Daughter?

I have begun training so that when my daughter is ready to date I'll be ready too. Want to see the model for my training? Click on the video below.

Gaming Addiction Leads To Death

This is the second story that I know of in which gaming lead to a person dying. Sometimes you need to turn off the computer and go for a walk.

BEIJING, China (AP) -- A man in southern China appears to have died of exhaustion after a three-day Internet gaming binge, state media said Monday.

The 30-year-old man fainted at a cyber cafe in the city of Guangzhou Saturday afternoon after he had been playing games online for three days, the Beijing News reported.

Have Shofar, Will Travel

Try Not To Get Too Eggcited

Many readers are aware of my friendship with The Waffle King. In fact I have received more than a couple of emails in which people have asked me to intercede on their behalf and ask the Rebbe of Waffles to provide us with a copy of his secret recipe.

For a number of reasons I have been unable to fill this request. However I am pleased to say that I can offer my help in providing you with information on eggs. Thanks to the miracle of technology I can provide you with links to three different eggspert recipes.

Treppenwitz- No guns required for this recipe. ;)

Planck's Constant- Notice the handy diagram.

Random Thoughts- Not so random recipe.

Have a great recipe that you want to share? Send it in or leave it in the comments and we'll see about adding it to the eggstravaganza.

The Power Of Bloggers

Burkean Reflections has an interesting post about the power of bloggers. I tend to agree. It is a mistake to think that you cannot influence anyone else or that the strength of your words ends at the bottom of your monitor.

You cannot know just how far your post may go. A simple Google search can lead to so many places and opportunities.

What do you think? Can you really influence someone else? Or is that just wishful thinking.

Misplaced Priorities- The Saggy Pants Crackdown

"Proposals to ban saggy pants are starting to ride up in several places. At the extreme end, wearing pants low enough to show boxers or bare buttocks in one small Louisiana town means six months in jail and a $500 fine. A crackdown also is being pushed in Atlanta. And in Trenton, getting caught with your pants down may soon result in not only a fine, but a city worker assessing where your life is headed.

"Are they employed? Do they have a high school diploma? It's a wonderful way to redirect at that point," said Trenton Councilwoman Annette Lartigue, who is drafting a law to outlaw saggy pants. "The message is clear: We don't want to see your backside."

I am not a fan of the saggy pants look. It always looked ridiculous to me, but I haven't viewed it as being a huge problem either. Apparently others do because there is a growing movement to end the sag.

It seems like a bad case of misplaced priorities to me. If they had to pick on one aspect of fashion to go after I'd do something about body modification. Like the guy in the picture below. Why oh why would you do that.

Still, these are low on my list of priorities. What about trying to help the homeless or make health care more accessible than it is today.

I Saw You At Tashlich

Ran into two bloggers at Tashlich. Ok, I didn't actually speak with them, but I did recognize TG and his lovely lady.

Had I not been chasing children I might have said howdy. Maybe next time.

Best of The Jewish Blogosphere- Humphrey Bogart Edition

My friend Robert enjoys providing Haveil Havalim with a new title. Each week we can depend on him to provide the rewrite and some Hollywood trivia. Today I decided to beat him to it with a tribute to one of my favorite actors, Humphrey Bogart.

Bogart made a number of excellent films that I could quote. But I'll go for the old standby and give you a couple of quotes from Casablanca which is easily in my top five favorite movies.

Captain Renault: What in heaven's name brought you to Casablanca?
Rick: My health. I came to Casablanca for the waters.
Captain Renault: The waters? What waters? We're in the desert.
Rick: I was misinformed.

and

Rick: Last night we said a great many things. You said I was to do the thinking for both of us. Well, I've done a lot of it since then, and it all adds up to one thing: you're getting on that plane with Victor where you belong.

Ilsa: But, Richard, no, I... I...
Rick: Now, you've got to listen to me! You have any idea what you'd have to look forward to if you stayed here? Nine chances out of ten, we'd both wind up in a concentration camp. Isn't that true, Louie?
Captain Renault: I'm afraid Major Strasser would insist.
Ilsa: You're saying this only to make me go.
Rick: I'm saying it because it's true. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You're part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you're not with him, you'll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.
Ilsa: But what about us?
Rick: We'll always have Paris. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.
Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you.
Rick: And you never will. But I've got a job to do, too. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Ilsa, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid.

Go check out Soccer Dad's latest edition. It is chock full of good posts.

Perfect Pushups

If you click here you can see my latest purchase. I have had them for a couple of weeks. They work beautifully.

The goal is to get to a point where I can do a 100 a night. It is not out of the question. When I was younger I used to do 6 sets of 25 each day. Three in the morning and three in the evening. It has been a while since those days.

But I figure that within three months I can be back there. Once I hit the mark the plan is to keep it up for the rest of my life.

Ok, it is time to try and get some shut eye. More can be found on that in the post below this one.

Another Night In Which Sleep Is a Dream

I am told that my snoring can wake the dead. My children take great pleasure in trying to imitate it. It is kind of fun to watch/listen to them do it. I am told that my snoring is so loud my neighbors wear earplugs. I am told that my snoring could be used to torture prisoners with sleep deprivation.

What I want to know is why I can't sleep. Actually I can answer that question. Too many things on my mind. Too many concerns, too many worries, too much waiting time. When I have things hanging over me I get a little crazy. I like to tackle them head on. Let me find out what is going on sooner than later.

If I was coaching a football team my style on defense is to blitz the hell out of the opposing team's offense. I want that quarterback to be on his back or worried that he is about to be put on his butt. On offense I want to wear out the defense with a punishing running attack interspersed with a precision passing game.

Next week is Yom Kippur. I am not ready. I am not ready. I am not ready. Ok, I am ready but I am anxious. I get this way sometimes. I have this sick feeling that someone I know is going to die. I don't have any inside information. The people that I know that are sick are in the same condition as before. They could die anytime or go on for a while. Who knows.

At a little past midnight I thought that I saw someone looking in my bedroom window. I alternated between being scared silly and enraged. Don't come to my house. Don't invite my wrath because at midnight that is what you get. Went outside and patrolled the outside of my home. Didn't find anyone, but noticed a few bootprints by a window. They could be mine or my gardener. I probably didn't see anything.

But you can imagine that this revved my engine. It is part of why I am still awake. Working hard on trying to turn my mind off, or at least slow it down for a moment.

Spent a few minutes watching my daughter sleep. I sat in the middle of the room and listened to her breathe. Stood up and brushed her hair out of her face. Kissed her forehead and promised that daddy will always be there to protect and watch over her. Felt a dose of fierce love and regret that one day she'll be too big for me to do this with her.

She must have known I was there, because she muttered I love you too and reached out to hug me. I am still looking for the pieces of my heart because I know that some of them fell out of my chest.

Life as a soccer coach has been fun. Working hard on teaching the boys to remember that this is a game and that the primary directive is to have fun. Spent all sorts of time teaching my son to stay in front of the ball. At this age not many kids are good enough to get by players who can do that. It is a good lesson. They learn that defense makes a huge difference and they gain confidence in their ability to do it.

The team is good. Actually the team is overwhelmingly good. We are destroying the other teams. I want to win, but not like this. It is too easy for the boys. I don't want them to get over confident. They need to know that there is always someone better and that we need to plan for that. Besides if you don't lose you don't appreciate winning.

One of the other fathers and I took on four of the boys and showed them that they have a lot to learn. I was so proud of the kids. They figured out quickly that they could put two defenders on each of us. And then they found out that at their age they can't run with the old men.

Speaking of that I realized that I am having more trouble aging gracefully than I want to admit. Raced a couple of the boys at the gym. In a short sprint I can still hold my own. It takes a little bit longer to get the engine warmed up, but I can still move.

Ego can be a wonderful source of motivation and quite detrimental. I am not the first person to ask why I can't have the wisdom of my age and the body I had when I was twenty. What would it hurt.

Still can't get beyond this feeling of doom. Makes me antsy. Judgement, judgement, judgement. This time of year it is always on my mind. Speaking of judgement it irks me that it can be spelled two different ways. It messes with my spell checker.

Robbing The Bride and Groom

I have been meaning to write about this for a couple of days now. This story troubles me.

Rabbi Barry Tuchman has no congregation, no ties to a recognized Jewish movement and an ordination that was far outside the norm for American Jewish clergy.

But the interfaith couples who contact him don't want to see his diploma. They want to know whether he's willing to marry them. And Rabbi Barry, as he calls himself, is ready to oblige.

He officiates anywhere: in churches, alongside Christian clergy, on the Jewish Sabbath and at Roman Catholic weddings. A student of Shamanism, he can perform American Indian rituals, too.

"What I do," Tuchman said, "is throw the liturgy out the window."

Interfaith couples whose rabbis won't marry them are going to the fringes of American Judaism to find someone who will. And there are plenty of rabbis for hire.

Rabbis with unconventional, even dubious, credentials will create ceremonies that can look Jewish, even if they're not. Fees can run into the thousands of dollars, but business is booming. The rabbis have more work than they can handle.

"It's religion in America for a new generation," said Rabbi Richard Hirsh, executive director of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association, which represents rabbis in his movement. "It's pretty much an individual consumer culture of professional services. They are used to getting the services that they want."

The intermarriage rate for U.S. Jews has been above 40 percent since at least the 1990s, according to researchers for the 2001 National Jewish Population Survey. As the rate has climbed, so too has pressure on pulpit rabbis to perform the ceremonies. Advocates for interfaith families say officiating at the weddings can increase the odds that couples will raise their children Jewish.

Most rabbis aren't convinced.

The Conservative and Orthodox movements bar rabbis from performing the ceremonies.

For the full story please click here. Do you really want a hired gun to perform your marriage. And more importantly, who gets smicha to become rich.

Married To the Wrong Woman

Sometimes life is a cliche. One eager screenwriter in a convertible driving down Pacific Coast Highway on his way to pitch his script. Bright blue skies and not a cloud to be seen. Off to the right the surf continued to roll in and out. A healthy dose of nerves and an exceptionally long stoplight almost caused an accident.

The guy driving the black Hummer was none too happy about waiting for the light to change, let alone the extra five seconds that Jimmy Cox caused him to lose by sitting at the light. As the Hummer flew by the driver made a point of shouting some pleasantries at Jimmy regarding his mental capabilities. Not that Jimmy noticed. He was lost in thoughts about the coming meeting.

The opening scene of the movie was simple. The camera was going to zoom in on a pair of eyes. Jimmy didn't care what color they were. All that mattered to him was that they evoked sadness and longing. The model in a roundabout way came from a commercial that had run during his childhood.

The commercial was a PSA that was about littering. A proud Native American with a single tear running down his face. The cause of his tears? Litter.

This was different. This was about unfulfilled potential and lost opportunities for love. It is about trying to decide what kind of sacrifices a parent is willing to make for their children. Does a couple subjugate the chance to explore the greatest love of their lives for the good of their children or do they follow their hearts. Was there a middle ground that they could find or would they spend an eternity apart, filled with regret.

A small snort escaped from Jimmy's mouth. His script Married To the Wrong Woman wasn't anything special. He didn't break any new ground. There weren't any clever or innovative plot twists. It was just another love story. And if there was one thing that had been done a million times in a million different ways it was the love story.

Then again, Jimmy knew in his gut that Hollywood would never stop making love stories. As long as there were people, there would be those who would go to watch the love story. Some would go because they loved the drama. They got off on following the twist and turns. Others would go because they related to it. They could see themselves in the characters. They understood. They identified with the characters.

Love sold and love sells. That was the line he wanted to use. The question was how to present it. Married To the Wrong Woman was the story that was going to get him started. He loved the characters and he loved the story, but only because he had created it. It wasn't his story. It wasn't his personal experience. It was him and a million others he had cobbled together.

All that he really wanted to do was find a way to make a name for himself. He wanted the freedom to make any sort of picture he wanted and figured that the fastest way to do it was to come up with a hit movie. It wasn't totally far fetched. In an age of manufactured pop stars and reality television it was hard to believe that he couldn't fabricate his own fame. In spite of his nerves he reminded himself that innovation in Hollywood meant putting a modern spin on a remake of a sitcom or movie from the 1970s.

Win Money and Watch Life Go To Hell

What a crazy thing. It sounds like an episode of the Twilight Zone.

MOUNT HOPE, West Virginia (AP) -- In his darkest moments, Jack Whittaker has sometimes wondered if winning the nearly $315 million Powerball game was really worth it.The jackpot that was the stuff of dreams turned into a nightmare: His wife left him and his drug-addicted granddaughter -- his protege and heir -- died. He endured constant requests for money.

Almost five years later, Whittaker is left with things money can't cure: His daughter's cancer, a long list of indiscretions documented in newspapers and court records, and an inability to trust others.

"I don't have any friends," he said in a lengthy interview with The Associated Press. "Every friend that I've had, practically, has wanted to borrow money or something and of course, once they borrow money from you, you can't be friends anymore."

Whittaker was a self-made millionaire long before he became a lottery winner, having built a pipeline business worth $17 million. Then he hit the Powerball in December 2002. It was then the largest single jackpot ever.

The prize was worth $314.9 million. Whittaker opted for the lump-sum payout of $170 million -- $93 million after taxes.

He still has plenty of money. And instead of retiring, the 59-year-old starts his day at 5 a.m., juggling ventures in construction, real estate, used-cars, even movies. Work is the last remnant of his old life.

Things I noticed in Shul

It is hard to daven when a three year old is tugging on my tallis. It is even harder when she grabs my crotch and tells me that I have a penis because I am a boy and she doesn't because she is a girl.

I suppose that I deserved that. She should have gone to childcare, but she screamed and begged to stay with daddy. She looked so darn cute that I agreed to let her stay for a bit. Truth be told she was good for quite some time.Eventually she got bored and that is when things got interesting.

Some of those tales will have to come later.

I don't care what denomination you belong to, this time of year is when everyone gets hit up for more cash. Donate to the annual/building/school/xyz fund. There is no easy way to ask for money from the members, but sometimes it feels like that is the only thing I hear about.

Truth is that I am one of those people who uses the shul. I get a lot out of it so I am happy to try and give back, but if I feel this way others must also. There has to be a better way.

Shana Tova - Happy New Year

Just in case I run out of time I'd like to with you all a Shana Tova - Happy New Year.

Life With a First Grader

Sometimes I am given vivid reminders of how in some respects the technology my parents and I grew up with is far more similar than that of my children and I.

Here are snippets from a recent conversation with the young lord of the manor.

Son: Dad, did you go to school?
Jack: What do you think?

Son: Grandpa said that you did.
Jack: Grandpa is right.

Son: You lived with grandpa and grandma?
Jack: I did. You have seen the room that I grew up in.

Son: Did it always have a television in it?
Jack: Nope.

Son: What about a computer. You had a computer didn't you. What kind was it?
Jack: I didn't have a computer.

Son: How did you work?
Jack: With a pencil and paper.

Son: I get it. Grandpa had the computer.
Jack: No. We didn't get a computer until I was much older than you are now.

Son: How did grandpa work?
Jack: With a pen and paper.

Son: He didn't type?
Jack: No, he did. He used a Smith-Corona typewriter. For a while I did too.

Son: Were you poor?
Jack: No, people didn't have home computers.

Son: What about your phone. Did you check your email on your phone?
Jack: No. We didn't have cell phones.

Son: So you were poor.
Jack: No. People didn't have cell phones then.

Son:What about shoes? Did people have shoes then?
Jack: Yes. We had shoes. I always bought the pair that made me run fast.

Son: Hey! I do that too. We match.
Jack: We do.

Son: Dad?
Jack: Yes.

Son: I still think that grandpa should have bought you a computer. That wasn't nice.
Jack: He was nice, but when I was your age they didn't make computers for people to use at home.

Son: Are you sure that you remember? You are kind of old.
Jack: Thanks, I appreciate that. Yes, I remember. We definitely did not have a computer.

Son: That must have been hard for you because you love the computer.
Jack: Nope. Since I had never used one I didn't miss it. We'll talk about this later. Get some sleep.

Who is A Jew

Sticky post- New Content is found below.

Joe Settler has a guest post at The Muqata that made me think about an ongoing debate I have had with some friends. Actually it is a discussion that has been ongoing for years. In simple terms you could say that the topic of the discussion is matrilineal versus patrilineal descent.

For my non-Jewish readers if you want some background on this topic you might want to try reading this and potentially you might also look at this. And don't forget that two Jews equals three opinions.

Years ago I was very much against recognizing patrilineal descent. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't like it at all. To be honest, I didn't really spend any time thinking about it. All I did was accept the position that had been spoonfed to me by others.

However after some consideration I reversed my position on this. In part I base this upon experiences I shared with my own family. For the purpose of clarity my family consists of Orthodox (Both MO and Black Hat), Conservative and Reform Jews as well as those who have intermarried and are raising the children outside of Judaism.

At a family gathering some years ago I had a conversation with a cousin who had become a BT. I grew up on the West Coast and he on the East so we didn't get to see each other too often. What I did know was that while both parents are Jewish he wasn't given any sort of religious training. No Bar Mitzvah, just a couple of summers at a Jewish camp.

Not unlike many BTs he came at me with a lot of energy and fervor as to why falling off of the derech was nothing more than a temporary position and how he could help me get back on. During the course of this conversation we landed upon the question of denominations, authentic Judaism and who was right about this and that.

He didn't like patrilineal descent. He parroted the opinions of some others about watered down Judaism and told me that we couldn't pick and choose. I disagreed on all accounts. In regard to the topic of the post I found myself arguing in favor of patrilineal descent because of its inclusivity.

Sixty years after the Holocaust I look around and think that there is no reason for us not to try and embrace all Jews and bring them into the fold. I know so many people whose mother may not be Jewish but father is. What does it hurt to encourage them to look at their heritage and to try and bring them home.

Orthodox Judaism is never going to be for everyone. But it is not the only way. Why shouldn't we make it clear that we would be happy if they were Conservative or Reform. With all the people out there targeting us for conversion I want to get to our own people first because if we do not we know that someone else will be waiting for them with open arms.

Why Would You Send This To Me

The joy of being out here in the public eye is that you never know what you are going to find in your inbox. A person who shall remain nameless emailed a link to a video called Leave Britney Alone.

I hate to admit that I actually watched it. I can't figure out why it was sent to me. Oy.

Football Saves Lives

This morning I am not inclined to spend a ton of time rehashing everything I felt or saw on 9/11. There are plenty of others who are doing so, many far better than I can. However there is one thought/memory that I want to share with you.

About eight or nine months after 9/11 I had to fly out to New York for a business meeting. It was my first trip out there since the loss of the towers and it is one that I'll remember for a whole variety of reasons. I suppose that one of the primary ones was the proliferation of the missing person flyers.

It seemed that everywhere I looked there were hundreds of flyers asking for help in locating missing people. I looked at quite a few of them and wondered if the faces I saw on them were of survivors or victims and thought about just how many lives had been changed forever.

During a business meeting I listened to my clients share their stories about what had happened to them and people they knew on that day. At one point one of them shrugged and said something to effect of "football saves lives."

He went on to explain how many people had stayed up late watching the Giants game on Monday Night Football and as a result had decided to go in late to work thereby saving their lives.

It is one of the many stories that you'll hear people share about how little quirks of fate can change your life.

We Remember

A Quick Roundup

Here is a quick roundup of some recent posts:

Who I Am Versus Who I Want To Be
Did Halloween Come Early
CNN- Outstanding Journalism Eludes Them
Who is A Jew?

Who I Am Versus Who I Want To Be

"Who I Am Versus Who I Want To Be"

I think about this on a regular basis, but especially around this time of year. Am I the man that I want to be. Have I grown at all or am I just treading water.

This is tied into a much longer post, but I am not ready to put it up yet.

Related Post: Unetaneh Tokef- Jack Rambles On

Did Halloween Come Early

As I was looking through some old posts I stumbled across this. I still want to know what she was thinking. Oy.

CNN- Outstanding Journalism Eludes Them

In an earlier post I spent a few minutes complaining about CNN allowing itself to be used as a propaganda tool for terrorists. Sadly, but not surprisingly they continue to strive for mediocrity. In the following story they just miss the mark.

Palestinian rocket injures sleeping soldiers

JERUSALEM (AP) -- A rocket fired from Gaza struck a tent filled with sleeping Israeli soldiers, wounding more than 20 of them early Tuesday, Israeli medics and the army said.

The army confirmed that a rocket had landed on a base in southern Israel about a half-mile north of Gaza.

Palestinian militants in Gaza fire crude rockets almost daily at towns in southern Israel, causing panic but rarely causing serious casualties. [emphasis mine]

Forgive my outrage, but CNN seems happy to talk about injured soldiers but neglects to cover the attacks on children.

Watch the video in this link of children running for cover or better yet watch it here and tell me you aren't upset. Tell me you aren't outraged and ask CNN why they minimize the seriousness of crude rocket attacks.

A Word That Is A Bit Offensive

Here is yet another comment about civility or the lack thereof within the blogosphere. I am someone who appreciates language and the power of words. I enjoy expanding my vocabulary and find posts such as this one to be interesting.

One of the reasons that I enjoy blogging is that it is an easy way to practice writing. The objective in every post is to create something eloquent and interesting to read. Part of doing that is learning how to use my vocabulary more effectively than I do now. Sometimes I am successful and other times I judge my posts to be horrible.

But this is why I practice and this is part of why I read so many different authors. I enjoy the change in styles and look for practical tips that I can apply to my own writing.

It would be unfair to claim that I have never made any mistakes or never offended any readers. Both apply to me. It would also be untrue for me to claim that I am a defender of P.C. terms. I am not. At the same time I am aware of the words that I use and intentionally refrain from some because I view them as being exceptionally offensive.

I think that there are moments in which some of the exceptionally offensive words are necessary and useful. These are few and far between.

That being said, there is a term that someone coined that I find a bit offensive. It is leftard.
As you can imagine it is a term that is used derisively to describe liberals and people on the left.

It is an ugly word. That is part of why some people like to use it to disparage others. Again, I do not claim to have never crossed the line. But the beauty of having your own blog is that you can share thoughts and you can demonstrate that the world is not black and white.

This particular word bothers me because of its etymology. I went to school with some mentally challenged individuals who teased by other students. They were called all sorts of ugly names. In tenth grade I had a fist fight with another student because he called one of them a retard.

So maybe I can point to this time as being the basis for my distaste for this word. What I do know for certain is that I have never seen it used by a person who had a strong command of the language and or an ability to debate a point using fact and logic. Somewhere out there is an exception to this rule, but I haven't met them.

It is a sad thing. With the coming presidential election I hope that we see less mud slinging and more critical thought. It is not that much to ask, is it.

Jack Versus The Rent-a-cop

My life is a series of adventures. No, really I mean it. It is a wonderful thing to be able to have so many different adventures. Even the most mundane experience can be turned into a thrilling I can't believe this is happening to me sort of thing.

Today's adventure is called Jack versus the Rent-a-cop. Where I come from the term Rent-a-cop isn't one of endearment. It is a knock against the security guard. Perhaps that is a bit unfair, but then again I have run into far too many who take themselves way too serious.

This particular episode finds our dashing hero visiting some people at a gated community. As the title of the post suggest this particular locale uses a security booth which is staffed by a rent-a-cop whose job it is to screen the visitors. I would think that at times it must get pretty dull for them. Every day you check people in and out. I suppose that if it was my job I might get caught up in some sort of silly fantasy about me solving the mystery of where Osama has been hiding.

Anyway, on this particular day I had an interesting exchange with the community's beloved rent-a-cop. Here is how it went.

Jack: Hi. I am here to see Mr. and Mrs. Randolph.
R.A.C: What's your name?

Jack: I am Jack B.
R.A.C: Hi Jack. Your paperwork is at the back gate.

Jack: I am sorry, what paperwork are you talking about?
R.A.C: The paperwork you signed when you started working here.

Jack: I don't work here.
R.A.C: Sure you do. I recognize your truck.

Jack: I am sorry. You've confused me with someone else.
R.A.C: No. I am quite positive I have not.

Jack: No really. I don't work here. Please call Mr. and Mrs. Randolph and they'll confirm.
R.A.C: It would be much easier if you just went to the back gate.

Jack: It really wouldn't. They're home is on the first block. Going to the back gate is completely out of the way and more importantly, I don't work here.
R.A.C: Didn't they tell you to take your badge with you? If you had it I would just wave you in.

Jack: I don't have a badge because I don't work here.
R.A.C: If you went to the back gate they'd give me one.

Jack: But I don't work here.
R.A.C: Sir. You are holding up the gate. There is a long line of cars behind you. They are going to be cursing at me.

Jack: They're not the only people. Please, please call Mr. and Mrs. Randolph. They live at 1060 West Addison. Their telephone number is -867-5309.
R.A.C: Sir, you are holding up the line. I am going to have to ask you to move.

Jack: It is not my fault or my problem that there is a line. Buzz me in and the line will start moving.
R.A.C: Sir, I told you to move your car into the middle or go to the back gate.

Jack: And I told you to call Mr. and Mrs. Randolph. Wait, I'll call them on my cellphone and have them call you.
R.A.C: If you don't move I am going to call the police.

Jack: What do you expect that will do.
R.A.C: They'll arrest you.

Jack: Arrest me for what? For speaking with a fool. I am tired of this. You are completely incompetent. What is the name of your supervisor!
R.A.C: I am not telling you.

Jack: And I am not moving.
R.A.C: You see this uniform. It means that I am authorized to handle situations.

Jack: No it means that McDonalds let you go because you can't handle making a Big Mac. This is beyond the pale.
R.A.C: Has anyone told you that manners go a long way.

Jack: Has anyone told you that the customer is always right.
R.A.C: Are you going to move.

Jack: Are we playing twenty questions. Ok, here is one. What is about 55 years old, is in dire need of therapy and resembles Larry from the Three Stooges.
R.A.C: That is it. I am calling the police!

Jack: Please do. I'll be happy to show them my badge.
R.A.C: You have a badge? Why didn't you show me. I would have just waved you in.

I'd like to say that Officer Fife wasn't this difficult. I'd like to say that I didn't waste fifteen minutes of my life on him because I could really use them for something far more productive. Sadly none of those things are true.

I can say with complete confidence that for the first six or seven minutes I was exceptionally calm and polite. Eventually that gave way to irritation and my demeanor changed a bit.

If there is any saving grace it was when my friends the Randolphs shared a few stories about Officer Fife and his incredible customer service. They must be so happy to pay a HOA fee for such fine service.

Haveil Havalim

The most recent edition of Haveil Havalim is live here.

Weekend Roundup

Howdy Folks. I go through spurts in which I just pump out the posts. The last couple of days are a good example of that. Here is quick summary of what you might or might not have seen.

Fraternity Stories
Saturday Nights Alright For Bloggin'- Time Keeps Slipping Away
Fiddler On The Roof- Tokyo Version
The Groovie Goolies
The 50 Worst Cars of All Time
If You Don't Have Time To Talk
Religion and Country- A Few Thoughts
When Bloggers Offend

And your blast from the past:

Is Your Life What You Expected It To Be?
Poop Patrol
Jimmy Cox- First try
Alone In The Dark

Fraternity Stories

One of the best parts about blogging is learning about people/places/experiences that you might not otherwise be exposed to. Sometimes we get so caught up in our lives that we forget that not everyone has the same experiences as we do.

For example, one morning as The Waffle King was harassing me to get ready for another tiyul I made a reference to fraternity life. The thing is, the king didn't quite get the reference. I mean, he understood what I was getting at, but not in the same way.

Why? Because he didn't go to a university with a greek system. I would have called him a GDI, but that would have gone over his head. I'd mention it here but that might lead me to be chastised by RWAC and I already have enough angry rabbis chasing me. Or maybe not. Maybe there is a rabbi in Monsey whose phone must have been lost or broken. You know who you are and why I write this.

Anyway, I have been mulling over whether to share some of the stories about fraternity life. I am not sure that they would be that interesting or that funny to people who weren't there. Some of them are pretty tame stories. They are about things that happened to a lot of people, fraternity membership didn't make that any different.

Then again, were other moments. We acquired some farm animals, had some pretty cool adventures in RVs, got chased through Tijuana, went skiing in Tahoe and still managed to graduate.

So maybe I'll bust the open the vault and share a few tales. I have to think about it a bit.

Saturday Nights Alright For Bloggin'- Time Keeps Slipping Away

Last week I heard some kid at the gym refer to Elton John as old people music. I like Elton. He is not my favorite artist, but I like quite a bit of his music. Guess that makes me a lover of old people music.

I noticed that the person who had made the comment was wearing a shirt from my high school. I made the mistake of asking him when he graduated. He looked at me and said next year and then i in the same breath asked me when I got out. It is not that I feel old, I really don't, but heck I got out of there several years before he was born.

Last weekend I ran into some of my old campers. They all wanted to know if I married my girlfriend...from 1988. It is not that it is impossible for things like that to happen, it is just funny that it didn't occur to them that my life might be different now. I suppose that we all like to think of the old and familiar as being just as we remember it.

This happens to me on the basketball court. At least once a week I am surprised that I can't run/move like I could when I was twenty. The brain remembers what the body could do. Sometimes the body responds and sometimes it leaves you flat on your back. Or sometimes you grit your teeth and swear beneath your breath about that bleeping twenty year old who managed to get by you because years ago it never would have happened.

I still race my son and his friends. In a sprint they haven't a chance of beating me, but I can see that this is not going to last for all that long. I have a few years. For a while I'll be able to use my size to my advantage but it won't be long before that doesn't work anymore.

Every day I do something to try and stay in shape. Every day I do something to try and stave off old age for a little bit longer. Some of it is vanity and some of it is reality. G-d willing my genes will follow the same sort of pattern as my grandparents and great aunts and uncles. That means that I'll live to be over 90 if not much longer. I am determined to be physically and mentally fit. Maybe it is a young man's voice speaking, but I can't stomach the idea of being stuck in a wheelchair.

Earlier this evening I sat outside listening to Ray Charles and drinking some Scotch. It was a very pleasant moment. Alone in the dark I stared at the moon and thought of those I love the most. It was most enjoyable. I was a bit disappointed to come back inside.

But I was more disappointed to see two big bugs follow me inside. I am not a bug hater, but then again I don't cotton to creatures that might choose to use me as a 24 hour buffet. I'd try and shush them outside but I have a feeling that they might manage to invite some of their friends in before I could evict them.

Darn bugs.

Fiddler On The Roof- Tokyo Version

I posted this video last year. I don't have the energy to go digging through the archives to find it. It is a bit of a novelty, but then again I know more than one Asian Jew. At one point there were two active members of the Jblogosphere, but one has since retired.

Are there any others out there? Just curious. In the meantime go read about Winston's New Kippah.

The Groovie Goolies

How many people remember these guys? An animated version of Gilligans Island and Lassie. Cool stuff.

The 50 Worst Cars of All Time

Time has a list called The 50 Worst Cars of All Time. Can you believe that they didn't include the Pinto. Then again they have some vehicles that most assuredly belong there; Pacer, Gremlin and the Jaguar.

If You Don't Have Time To Talk

Then don't call me. I have a couple of friends who do this. They call me to say that they don't have time to talk. It drives me crazy. If you don't have time to talk send me a freaking email or a text message.

Don't call me to tell me that you cannot speak. One of these days when you ask the perfunctory "how are things going" I am going to say that they are terrible. I'll tell you that I have never been more upset and then what are you going to do.

Religion and Country- A Few Thoughts

I am about due for another post about religion and its place in society. By society I am referring to the United States. You can consider this to be a precursor to that particular post because I am due to take my afternoon siesta now, but before I do here are some thoughts.

Some people like to claim that religion is the foundation for all that is good in the world. I disagree. You don't have to be religious to be a moral person.

When discussing the separation of church and state some people try to prove their point by claiming that the Constitution doesn't speak about this. They'll say that no where in the Constitution does it say anything of the sort.

My response to them is simple. There are a lot of things that aren't in the Constitution. For example you won't find anything about speeding tickets or tickets received for running red lights. Lack of inclusion is not indicative of the validity of something.

Anyway, that is the general idea. If you have any thoughts you want to share now feel free to do so.

Pavarotti & James Brown Together At Last

A Real Obstacle Course

When Bloggers Offend

I have been involved in various message boards for about ten years and blogging for 3.5. During that time I have seen and experienced a lot of different things. A few days ago I wrote about civility in the blogosphere. The impetus for that particular post was because of a disagreement that I was involved in.

There were a number of us debating a variety of topics. It got heated and I was attacked on the blog and by email. It is not the first time and I am sure that it won't be the last. You can't get involved in some of these conversations without being prepared for that. They have attacked my character, remarked upon my lineage and made specific threats against myself and my family.

If you let it get to you it can be discouraging and disheartening. Most of the time it doesn't bother me. I have a thick skin, some people might even say a thick head. ;) I don't pay much attention to it unless it is being said by the people I care about. People cannot hurt you unless you give them the power to.

All that being said I have found from time to time that I have been quite disappointed by what I have read at some blogs. It is not uncommon. We all find blogs that we really enjoy. Sometimes we find something that we think is really special, a blog that speaks to us. After a time you might develop an attachment to that blogger. Maybe you see them as a friend or someone who could become a good friend.

And then comes a post or posts that make you say WTF! They produce posts that leave you feeling dumbfounded, wondering how you could have ever thought that the blogger was a kind and decent person. To be clear, I include myself in this. I am not naive enough to think that I have never offended anyone.

When this happens you are faced with determining how to proceed. Do you contact the person and try to discuss it. Do you ignore it. Do you try to balance the post with your own comments.

What do you think?

One of My Favorite Shows

Curb Your Enthusiasm- Love it. This is a clip from one my favorite episodes. It is far funnier if you see the whole thing. It cracks me up.

A Billion Dollar Pension

Tiger has all the luck.

If you are lucky, you have an employer who offers some percentage of matching contribution for your individual retirement account. If you are really lucky, you have a guaranteed pension plan.

If you are Tiger Woods, or any PGA Tour pro, you redefine what others consider lucky.

Woods, the world's greatest golfer has the world's greatest employer funded retirement package. How great?

If Woods keeps winning at his current rate, enjoys a nine percent annual return and captures just seven FedEx Cups in his career, he could reach $1 billion in retirement payouts courtesy of the PGA Tour Inc.

Yes, a billion. As in a thousand million. As in $1,000,000,000.

As in, if the PGA right this moment started handing Tiger a dollar bill every second of every minute of every day, it wouldn't reach a billion until 2039.

Even without this retirement plan, Woods is well on his way to becoming the first American billionaire athlete. He might accumulate several billion. In 2006 Forbes reported he cleared $100 million in on- and off-course revenue.

But even if he found a way to spend every last penny of that fortune and his own personal retirement savings, he might have $1 billion coming to him after he turned 60 thanks solely to the contributions of the PGA. Golfers are independent contractors and not employees of the PGA. But the governing body, in lieu of a traditional pension, offers contributions based on a number of performance variables to a retirement fund that each player controls.

Since turning pro at 21, Woods has been collecting the contributions and watching them grow. Back in 2001, Golf Week estimated he might one day retire with $300 million. But with the new FedEx Cup funded deferred compensation plan, what was an astounding figure might now be the richest retirement payout ever.

All the 31-year-old has to do is keep winning, most notably the annual FedEx Cup, which in a combination of season-long success and a four-event "playoff" pays the winner a $10 million contribution to his tax-free retirement account.

Woods can't touch the money until he's 45 and would be a fool to do it before the plan forces him to at 60. If it generated a nine percent annual return (the assumption for all calculations in this article) for 29 years, the magic of compounding interest will turn the original $10 million into a cool $123.1 million.

With investing, the caveat is always that past performance does not guarantee future results. But when it comes to Tiger Woods and golf, there is less fear his dominance will subside. Woods will win. For the foreseeable future, he could win the FedEx Cup any year he commits to doing it.

Which means he could make the $1 billion retirement account projection look Newt Gingrich conservative.

For the full story please click here.

Airplane Trouble? Kill a Goat

I don't think that I would be real comfortable flying a plane where animal sacrifice is a routine part of maintenance.

Nepal's state-run airline has confirmed that it sacrificed two goats to appease a Hindu god, following technical problems with one of its aircraft.

Nepal Airlines said the animals were slaughtered in front of the plane - a Boeing 757 - at Kathmandu airport.

The offering was made to Akash Bhairab, the Hindu god of sky protection, whose symbol is seen on the company's planes.

The airline said that after Sunday's ceremony the plane successfully completed a flight to Hong Kong.

Goodbye Pavarotti

(CNN) -- Famed opera tenor Luciano Pavarotti, who appeared on stage with singers as varied as opera star Dame Joan Sutherland, U2's Bono and Liza Minnelli, died Thursday after suffering from pancreatic cancer, his manager Terri Robson said in a statement. He was 71.

"The great tenor, Luciano Pavarotti, died today at 5:00 a.m. at his home in Modena, the city of his birth," according to Robson.

"The Maestro fought a long, tough battle against the pancreatic cancer which eventually took his life. In fitting with the approach that characterized his life and work, he remained positive until finally succumbing to the last stages of his illness."

The portly singer retired from staged opera in 2004, but was on a "farewell tour" of concerts when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2006 and underwent emergency surgery to remove the tumor.

Although the remaining concerts of his tour were canceled, his management said that he hoped to resume the tour in 2007.

But in early August, Pavarotti was hospitalized in Modena with a fever and released 17 days later after undergoing diagnostic tests.

Pavarotti is survived by his wife, Nicoletta Mantovani, and a daughter, Alice, along with three grown daughters by his first wife, Adua Veroni, whom he divorced in 2000, and a granddaughter.

I became a fan of opera somewhere in the early '90s. I very much appreciated his work.

Back To School Round Up

Just in case back to school has slowed down your reading here is a quick summary of what has run here:

Decency Takes a Dive
The JBlogosphere Beekeeper's Dream
Bloggers Are Plagiarists

And your blast from the past:

My Daughter's Favorite Book
Teaching Children Not To Quit
Blessing My Children

Decency Takes a Dive

George Will has a very good column this week. Here are a couple of excerpts that caught my eye:

Sept. 10, 2007 issue - Last week, a U.S. senator's 27-year congressional career crashed and burned and his life unraveled in public ignominy, and a presidential candidate announced his disgust in a way that did him no credit. The U.S. attorney general made a resignation statement containing a repulsive sentiment suffused with vanity. And in a weird addition to last week's jumbled sensibilities and sensitivities, the Public Broadcasting System announced that, because some station managers are afraid that the Federal Communications Commission's decency police might take umbrage and impose fines, two versions of Ken Burns's 14½-hour documentary "The War" will be distributed, in one of which four words of profanity will be removed. This is not because the words shockingly and wrongly suggest that soldiers in World War II sometimes used indelicate language (does no one remember what the F in the wartime acronym "snafu" stands for?), but because someone, somewhere, might be offended by that fact.

and

And speaking of the tone-deaf, Alberto Gonzales could not even leave high office without advertising his unfitness for it. As he habitually has done, he reminded the nation that he has "lived the American Dream," which he evidently thinks is epitomized by his success in attaching himself to a politician not known for demanding quality in assistants. Gonzales then demonstrated how uncomprehending he is of essential American values. He said: "Even my worst days as attorney general have been better than my father's best days."Well. His father married and had eight children—nine wonderful days, days even better, one would have thought, than any of the days his son spent floundering at the Justice Department. Furthermore, Gonzales's father had the fulfillment of a lifetime spent providing for his family. But what is any of that, Gonzales implies, compared with the satisfaction of occupying, however unsatisfactorily, a high office? This implicit disparagement of his father's life of responsibility and self-sufficiency turns conservatism inside out.

The JBlogosphere Beekeeper's Dream

Ok, the picture above is not really an actual photo of the resident beekeeper of the Jblogosphere. The gun slinging hasher of sweet goodness has something to strive for. If all goes well in 3,000 years someone might find the remnants of his own hives.

JERUSALEM (AP) -- Archaeologists digging in northern Israel have discovered evidence of a 3,000-year-old beekeeping industry, including remnants of ancient honeycombs, beeswax and what they believe are the oldest intact beehives ever found.

The findings in the ruins of the city of Rehov this summer include 30 intact hives dating to around 900 B.C., archaeologist Amihai Mazar of Jerusalem's Hebrew University told The Associated Press. He said it offers unique evidence that an advanced honey industry existed in the Holy Land at the time of the Bible.

Beekeeping was widely practiced in the ancient world, where honey was used for medicinal and religious purposes as well as for food, and beeswax was used to make molds for metal and to create surfaces to write on. While bees and beekeeping are depicted in ancient artwork, nothing similar to the Rehov hives has been found before, Mazar said.

The beehives, made of straw and unbaked clay, have a hole at one end to allow the bees in and out and a lid on the other end to allow beekeepers access to the honeycombs inside. They were found in orderly rows, three high, in a room that could have accommodated around 100 hives, Mazar said.

The Bible repeatedly refers to Israel as a "land of milk and honey," but that's believed to refer to honey made from dates and figs -- there is no mention of honeybee cultivation. But the new find shows that the Holy Land was home to a highly developed beekeeping industry nearly 3,000 years ago.

America's Best Restrooms

Ever wonder where you can find America's Best Restrooms? Well, wonder no more. Click here for the list.

Bloggers Are Plagiarists

Out here in sunny California we have been enjoying a heatwave. Let me tell you how enjoyable 112 degrees can be. When you are floating on a raft it is actually quite pleasant. During the long weekend I had the good fortune to attend more than one barbecue and swim party. At one such event an acquaintance and I shared a laugh over how our conversations have changed.

We met around twenty years ago. Back then we talked about sports, girls and well sports and girls. Gradually this conversation evolved into what careers we hoped to enter and sports and girls. Slowly it moved from career dreams into actual jobs and sports and girls. Eventually we all got married and it evolved to include family/children, jobs, sports, politics and sometimes even girls. Although the truth is that now that we have daughters some of these conversations have changed radically.

Anyhoo, during this conversation we rambled onto the topic of blogging. He is not a blogger and says that he has never read one. Still he had some pretty strong opinions about it including the title of this post: Bloggers Are Plagiarists.

I surprised him by telling him that I have been blogging for more than three years and that the question of whether bloggers are plagiarists is interesting. I explained that I found it interesting for a couple of reasons, not the least of which was I wondered how he could say this without reading blogs. He didn't really have an answer and I didn't see a need to hammer him on this. But it didn't change my interest in this.

See, I have been wondering about a particular issue for a while. It has to do with attribution and how much content one can use. In my earlier days of blogging I didn't really think about this at all. I cut and paste as much as I felt like using and went about my business. Since then I have had more than a couple of occasions in which people took my own content and tried to pass it off as their own. It was more than irritating to see the lack of attribution.

When I refer to finding the topic of bloggers being plagiarists it interests me because I think that there are some gray areas. It is not about a hyperlink or deep linking because for me those are areas that have simple answers.

And it is more than just asking for attribution. Attribution is important, perhaps the most important thing. But so is traffic and sometimes attribution is not enough. If you are trying to build traffic to your blog you are always going to be concerned with how to ensure that readers make it to you. Here is an example of how attribution might fall short.

Let's say that I have a really funny picture on my blog. A blogger might copy the photo and post it on their own blog. Even if they provide attribution to me, it might not matter as people having seen the photo might not come visit my blog. OTOH, one could argue that they might be curious to see if there is other content that is of interest and would visit anyhow.

To be clear, this post isn't in reference to any particular blog or blogger. I know that I have made many of these mistakes myself. Really what I am trying to do here is determine for myself what sort of personal policy I want.

What do you think? Let me know I am interested in your thoughts.

The Shack Stays Ahead of CNN

It is too bad that CNN doesn't spend more time reading this blog. Because if they did they would know that one of the stories on their front page was covered here almost two months ago.

How To Hunt Really Big Game

Use a Really Big Gun. Whatever are you trying to compensate for.

How I Deal With Road Rage

The Car Tank- For when you just can't stand midwestern drivers any longer.

Worlds Smallest Items

Neatorama has a whole post devoted to all sorts of small items such as people, cattle, toilet and teddy bears. For the full story please click here.

The Ad You Need To Read

- Advertisement -

I can't quite figure out how to properly spell yamulkas yarmulkes.

But I know where to buy them online: http://jump2.webadsisrael.com/?jack.yarmulkes">

Check out the online store!

(Not to mention, Talleisim, Benchers, and Challah Covers).

A Reason To Go To Vegas

Here Is News That Is Not News

Men want hot women, study confirms

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Science is confirming what most women know: When given the choice for a mate, men go for good looks.

And guys won't be surprised to learn that women are much choosier about partners than they are.

"Just because people say they're looking for a particular set of characteristics in a mate, someone like themselves, doesn't mean that is what they'll end up choosing," Peter M. Todd, of the cognitive science program at Indiana University, Bloomington, said in a telephone interview.

Researchers led by Todd report that in Tuesday's edition of Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that their study found humans were similar to most other mammals, "following Darwin's principle of choosy females and competitive males, even if humans say something different."

Their study involved 26 men and 20 women in Munich, Germany.

I'll concede that there might be some real science involved here and that there could be information that is beneficial to mankind. However, I have a hard time using such a small sample group. Too many variables are not accounted for.

Craig rethinking resignation

BOISE, Idaho (AP) -- Sen. Larry Craig, R-Idaho, is reconsidering his decision to resign after his arrest in a Minnesota airport sex sting and may still fight for his Senate seat, his spokesman said Tuesday evening.

"It's not such a foregone conclusion anymore, that the only thing he could do was resign," said Sidney Smith, Craig's spokesman, in Idaho's capital.

Either this guy has gone to the Kobe Bryant school of P.R. or he is mentally unstable. WTF is up with him.

What Happened to Mai Speleeing

Sometimes I wonder if someone hasn't secretly replaced my brain with some sort of soft mellon. I'd stick a spoon inside my ear to check but I am afraid that I'd come back with a hunk of a cantaloupe. What a treat. A tasty snack.

I suppose that for some of you this not going to be any sort of revelation. You know who you are. The fine people who write me behind the scenes to tell me how much you love me. That is why I pay the big money to have the nice people in that beat up minivan follow you around town.

Anyway, I seem to have developed a problem with spelling. I don't know what or why, but lately I keep screwing up simple words. It is a bit disconcerting as I have never had a problem with this. In fact spelling was always something that I considered to be a strength. Just ask my junior high English teacher Mrs. Hackleshmackle and she'll confirm it.

If I was as neurotic as a crazy Australian couple I know I might be concerned that I have developed some sort of neurological condition. Fortunately I am not, so I'll attribute this to excessive stress.

In the meantime I am going have to hoap dat I wemember to use the spelcheker.

Missed Opportunities, Second Chances & More

A look back at an old post that I always makes me smile.

I should be trying to get some sleep, really I should be in bed. I say this several times a week and inevitably I stay up longer and later. I like the evenings because there is something magical, mystical and special about the night.

The dark has such potential, it is like raw clay that can be molded and shaped into something good or something bad. I am not a small man, I am broad and in general as strong or stronger than most men I meet. Just genetics working in my favor, we all get a few perks, although I wouldn't have been upset if I had Michael Jordan's talent too.

But the point of the jingle jangle ramble about the dark is that even at 36 I still feel pangs of fear in the dark. It is not consistent and it doesn't happen every time, but it still scares me. There are times in which my heart begins to race and I fight the urge to flee. And believe me there are times in which it is incredibly strong, when I just want to start running for I do not know where.

The thing that strikes me about this is that there have been times when I have walked alone through wooded areas with nothing more than the soft moonlight as my companion. In part I did it to try and conquer my fear and in part because there is a piece of me that is always alone and I feel a certain attraction to that large orb in the sky. There is a place in which I feel like I am standing on the outside looking in, I can see the door, but I can't quite get to it. Don't know if it is because I choose not to or am unable to, I just know that this is how I feel from time to time.

Maybe I am crazy, because there are moments in which the feelings of being on the outside couldn't feel more foreign to me, or maybe we all feel this way. Truth be told outside of this blog I am not sure that I have ever spent any time exploring this side.

Sometimes I look at my life and I see nothing but open highway full of opportunity and a bright future and sometimes I see nothing but opportunities that have passed me by. Sometimes I feel like life is like riding a moving sidewalk that offers multiple stops, but it is a linear transport so if you miss your exit you haven't the ability to jump off and run back. You are stuck wherever you are and that is where you are.

And then I think that this cannot be the way that it is, that we cannot be forced to accept everything and that we have complete control to grab our life in our hands and change our destiny. But it feels so hard and so tough to try and do it. It is like trying to grab a handful of water, you squeeze it tight but it still leaks out around your hands. Try as you might you cannot quite get it all so you have to hope that you catch enough to serve your purpose.

Live with me and ride a whirlwind. Stay with me and ride the storm, search for the eye, for that oasis that provides safety and sustenance if you can. Not everyone is willing or able. I don't let people in very easily, I am a book that you can read but the text is written in a thousand languages.

I keep hearing Mick singing Visions of Paradise.

The Simpsons and The Rolling Stones

Civility and Logic In The Blogosphere

One of the ongoing discussions within the blogosphere is about civil discourse. It is a topic that you will see discussed time and time again. The premise of the posts is that there is a lack of civility within the blogosphere and society in general.

There is some truth in that belief. There are many blogs in which the discussion quickly deteriorates into name calling. Some people find that anonymity gives them freedom to say things that they would never dare say in person. It is troublesome and problematic.

Yet there are many blogs in which the conversation rarely if ever goes down that path. They manage to take sensitive issues and have a real dialogue. There have been more than a few of those here. There have also been a number of heated disagreements. I won't claim to always be calm. I won't claim that I have never crossed the line. I have and I will again. That doesn't mean that I won't try to avoid it, but I am not naive enough to believe that I won't occasionally jump into the mud.

I don't ask everyone to agree with me, although that would make the world a nicer place to live. However, if you come banging on my doorstop you better have a little fact to support your allegations or you risk having your nose rubbed in your inadequacies.

Perhaps we'll discuss this in more detail later on.

The Hamas Version of Peace

On the second day of school terrorists continue to fire rockets at schools in Sderot. This is going to get uglier before it gets better.

Parents, can you imagine sending your children to school under these conditions.

A Roundup of Recent Posts

Folks it appears that there have been a whole slew of new posts. If you have been out of town here is a quick list of recent entries you might have missed.

Second Guessing Ourselves- Elul Times Two
Pray To Gods- Wiccan Wins
The Shack Receives Hate Mail
May It Be
Patton on Iraq & The Modern World
The Children Are Almost Too Big To Carry
I Should Be Sleeping
What a Waste Of Time and Money
The Almighty Speaks To Jack

Blast from the past posts:

Why The Baal Teshuva World Irritates Me
Speaking of Ignorance
Aliyah Musings

Second Guessing Ourselves- Elul Times Two

My chevrusa RWAC has a post called Elul: Doubting myself that caught my eye. Here is an excerpt that reeled me in:

In short: I do things that make my halakhic mind cringe. I do them for the sake of Torah and in a manner that conforms with my understanding of the halachah, but come Elul, they still bother me.

Elul is, after all, the period for second-guessing. For asking myself whether this action was correct, whether I should have said that differently. For debating the decisions that have brought me to this point in life.

So during Elul I look at these cases and ask myself: When I do these things, am I really motivated by ahavas yisrael and outreach, or am I doing it because I want people to like me?

It held my attention for many reasons. I find Elul to be unsettling. I am not Orthodox, but I don't think that you have to be Orthodox to find Elul to be unsettling. For that matter you don't have to be Orthodox to have an educated opinion about halacha or any Jewish matter. This is a position that is not popular with many people, but it is one that I am comfortable with.

The core of the issue for me is education. Are you familiar with the guidelines and reasons behind the various halacha and minhagim. Are you observant because you were raised that way or because you choose to be. I don't believe in G-d based upon logic, although that plays a role. I believe based in part because of faith. Faith doesn't require that 2+2 equal four. Although it would be nice that did.

I don't believe that mixed dancing should be frowned upon. I don't accept the minhagim that require my friends to wear a wool suit on a day in which the temperature exceeds 106. There are aspects of this that make sense to me. I appreciate the guidelines of being tznius, but to me they are just guidelines. I just don't believe that Chazal was trying to guide us to becoming shomer negia in the current fashion.

Granted there are going to be people who show me a gemara that says otherwise. Granted there is a reason why tradition shouldn't be completely ignored or abused. Yet it shouldn't always be taken as law just because that is the way it has always been done.

There are moments in which I have serious doubts about how I have done things. Moments in which I wonder if I have made the right choices. I second guess myself, but I also move on. I don't spend a ton of time wondering about every decision I have made.

Ani maamin with all of my heart and soul that Hashem is not locked into one way. I do not now and cannot remember a time in which I believed that there is only one way to be Jewish. Just to be clear for my resident J4J- there are lines which you cannot cross and be considered Jewish. Some things are impossible, like being partially pregnant. Outside of those black and white lines, there is a lot of gray.

Even though I find Elul to be unsettling I appreciate it for what it offers. Specific time to reflect upon my life, who I am, who I want to be, the year that was and the year to come.

Pray To Gods- Wiccan Wins

NOTTINGHAM, Maryland (AP) -- Elwood "Bunky" Bartlett says a New Age book store made it possible for him to become an overnight multimillionaire.

He and his wife, Denise, were on their way to the shop where he occasionally teaches Wicca and Reiki healing when they stopped at a liquor store and bought two $5 Mega Millions tickets for Friday night's estimated $330 million jackpot.

On Sunday, he said one of his tickets was a winner.

"If it wasn't for this place I wouldn't have won the lottery," Bartlett said Sunday at Mystickal Voyage, the New Age shop.

Four winning tickets to the Mega Millions jackpot were sold in Maryland, New Jersey, Texas and Virginia. Lottery officials said Sunday they cannot confirm the validity of Bartlett's ticket before they meet with him on Tuesday.

"There's no reason to believe it's not legitimate, but it has to go through security," said Maryland State Lottery Director Buddy Roogow, who said he has spoken with Bartlett.

Bartlett, an accountant from Dundalk, said he made a bargain with the multiple gods associated with his Wiccan beliefs: "You let me win the lottery and I'll teach." Both tickets he purchased had numbers chosen randomly from the computer.

Elwood? His name is Elwood. Where is Jake? It is time to get the band back together again. With this kind of cash they can take care of the penguin and pay for some great attorneys to take care of that little high speed chase they engaged in.

Who wants an Orange Whip?

The Shack Receives Hate Mail

There is nothing more loving than not one, not two but three different emails in which I am told that I am anti-Christian and a Zionist dog. Ok, they didn't all say the same thing, but the general sentiment of love for dear old Jack was there in all of them.

If I am not mistaken my pal The Atheist Jew gets mail like this.

It is good to be loved.

May It Be

This just felt appropriate.

May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh! How far you are from home

Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be you journey on
To light the day
When the night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun

Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

A promise lives within you now

Patton on Iraq & The Modern World

The Children Are Almost Too Big To Carry

Another Sunday morning and the start of another week. One of the joys of blogging is learning about myself. That may sound ridiculous, but I don't think that many people take the time to try and listen to their inner being. What I mean is that in our busy lives we forget to stop and consider ourselves. What makes us tick? What makes us happy? What makes us sad?

Blogging provides an outlet for me to do that. I know that Elul makes me feel unsettled. I know that the end of summer bothers me. There is so much more that I know and much to learn. Not to beat the horse to death, but I think that my life is fuller from the experience.

Last night there was an impromptu family gathering. Grandparents, great-grandparents, grandchildren and an aunt or two met for a family meal. It was nice and at the same time a little strange. It was the first gathering without the big lug who patrolled the dinner table. His presence or should I say his absence was glaring. I kept waiting for someone to slam into my chair in search of a fallen treat. And this was the first time that the children really vocalized their thoughts.

There were some tears and a lot of questions about where dogs go when they die. There were requests for a new dog. My daughter told my folks that she doesn't like a house without a doggie. My son told her not to worry because Grandpa would never own a house without a dog. It made me smile, wistfully.

Eventually the evening ended and the kids were packed up, loaded into the car and shipped home. When we arrived at the house I took a moment to listen to the silence in the car. Soft snoring was punctuated by the occasional mumble and sigh.

Outside the heatwave continued. It was after 10 but the temperature was still more than 90 degrees. As I carried the little girl into the house I snorted and tried not to cough as her curls rubbed against my nose. Yesterday it was a simple thing to do. She fit in the nook of one arm, no bigger than a football I could wander for hours and not notice her weight.

She is still small enough that I can carry her around, but not so little that I no longer notice her weight. Now as I carry her I have to be more careful because she is a restless sleeper and has a proclivity for throwing her body around.

The big boy is a different story. It feels like years since he was truly little. Now when I carry him I feel his head on my shoulder and his feet against my thighs. Every time they bang against me it serves as notice that it won't be long before he'll truly be too big to carry this way. It is bittersweet because I know that a part of his childhood is ending and a new one beginning.

Sometimes time moves far too quickly.

Metallica on a Harp

It actually sounds pretty good. Who knew.

A Headline You Never Want to Read

There is so much that is wrong here.

Woman at large with hubby's severed penis

"We suspect she took both her weapon and her husband's penis because we cannot find the penis in their apartment. We even checked a toilet but she did not dump it there,'' Lt-Col Kornwat said.

Haveil Havalim #132- Giving The Goods is Live

Rafi has got the goods.