Shtetl Fabulous

Wildly Inappropriate

2010-07-20T18:03:00.003-04:00

I'm not one of those women who doubts her beauty and ability to attract men. In the last 10 years of my dating life, I've picked up men at the gas station, the grocery store, a gay bar and now on an NJ Transit train. Being naturally gregarious and just good-looking enough to be approachable but not too gorgeous to be intimidating, my friends frequently delight in my stories of new guys, even if absolutely no one can keep track.

And yet, despite my magnetism, I seem to generally attract, for the most part, the most wildly inappropriate men. Oh you have a PhD, your own apartment and a good relationship with your mom? Yeah, you're just not going to be into me. You'll be my good friend but you will never imagine a future with me. But are you marginally employed in the shadow economy with an illegitimate child and a Tina Fey-esque, never-to-be-talked-about facial scar? Then clearly you will fall in love with me after just a few short encounters.

I started writing this post a few nights ago and just didn't have time to really flesh it out. Then, the reason for the delay became all-too apparent when I checked my FB inbox...
With the bizarre and grammatically-incorrect subject line of, "i love the way you smiles, dear readers I give you... Kenneth.
"good day (my first and last name) how are you doing today? i hope that you are cool.i m very happy with your profile its very interesting that is why i will love to know more about a beautiful and shining star like you. so tell me what are you doing for a fun mostly? i love reading , going to a beach as well listing to all kind of music.i will love to chat with you on yahoo messenger because i only come to face book often, here is my im for chatting (his IM) what is yours? i can,t wait to talk to an angel like you. i hope to hear from you very soon.
kenneth"

Were Kenneth a Liberian war orphan, I might be able to excuse his astounding creepiness and appallingly poor command of the English language. However, according to his Facebook profile, he's a native of Jersey City and a widower with one child who apparently is desperate to find "a god fearing lady to be (his) soul mate."

If this is what I attract, maybe it's just as well that I'm single. Luckily, I don't have this woman for a mother and my grandmother's Internet skills just aren't that good.

Open Letter to AZ Governor Jan Brewer

2010-04-27T21:37:00.000-04:00

I left this on the Governor's comments page...

Governor Brewer,
You make me ashamed to be from the State of Arizona. While New Jersey (where I live now) may have challenges with corruption and high taxes, at least we don't make people illegal and violate their 14th Amendment rights simply for being of a certain skin color or country of origin.

I sincerely hope you realize the error of your ways and quickly change your mind about SB 1070. You humiliate the Grand Canyon State and have turned Arizona into a mockery in both the domestic and international communities. It's despicable.

No human being is illegal. By signing SB 1070, you have essentially made it illegal for anyone of Latino descent to leave the house without fear of gung ho law enforcement officials. God forbid any immigrant actually is a victim of a crime, because you certainly have eliminated their rights of safety and access to the legal process. They will no longer cooperate with law enforcement or serve as witnesses for fear of you and your xenophobic goons.

When will Arizona realize it cannot function without immigrants? Who would mow YOUR law? Who would cook for YOU in any restaurant? Who would drive the citrus and cotton industries so essential to YOUR state's economy?

When you figure that out, let me know.
Sincerely,
A disgusted former Arizonan

Whose Addiction is this Anyway?

2010-03-22T17:06:00.002-04:00

Why the minutia of Tiger Woods' daily life was any of my business before or after his wife tried to run him over, I have no idea. All I know is that now that it's happened and he has issued a trite mea culpa cum admission of addiction, I have to hear about him every damn day. Maybe the folks who feel especially disappointed by his infidelities are the same people who worshiped Bo Jackson, Larry Bird or (gasp!) OJ Simpson in their youth. They ascribed super humanity to their superheroes, forgetting the inherent corruption we all face as we mature and confront various moral and ethical dilemmas.

Simultaneous to the Tiger Beat-Off... (yeah, crude I know, but I had to get that in there!), has been a similarly epic media blitz on John Edwards and his baby mama drama. Come on people! If you're going to sleep with a celebrity, use protection. One would hope the money, fame and fortune come with a few condoms. I'm pretty convinced there's a special place in hell for John Edwards and that both his wife and his mistress will be there too.

But what annoys me more than the ridiculously callow behavior of these people is our fascination with it AND in the case of Woods, our willingness to excuse it as a form of addiction. Yes, I'm sure there are people legitimately struggling with sex addiction. However, when it comes to celebrities claiming it, I find it incredibly hard to believe.

Look at our history of political figures and celebrities in this nation - Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Ray Charles - HUGE womanizers! Drug addictions, ample (and sometimes interracial) extramarital affairs, illegitimate children abound and yet, we don't dwell on those issues when studying the legacies of this important men. None of these guys felt the burning scrutiny of the 24-hour news cycle and so they got away with their philandering. And I have to say that even the most stand-up guys I know who aren't celebrities would have a really tough time remaining faithful if 1000s of attractive women were flinging themselves at their loins on a daily basis.

Our wraparound technologies also make finding willing and able sexual partners that much easier. From AdultFriendFinder to Craigslist, even the average schmo can be big pimpin' any time he pleases. One can only imagine how much easier it becomes when money, power and celebrity enter the picture.

In no way do I condone the behavior of Woods, Edwards or any other idiots out there who essentially commit perjury against their own marriage vows. But at the same time, I simply can't understand why anyone thinks it's news.

Happy Anniversary... to Me

2010-03-03T20:33:00.005-05:00

I reached a rather intriguing and potentially day-ruining milestone today - I have officially been single for a year. At one time in my life, this would have been cause for a tub of ice cream and a good cry. Yet, I've actually been pretty happy about it. I can't imagine accomplishing half the things I've done in the past year if I were in a relationship.

Not that my ex wasn't a nice, supportive guy. But I'm not sure that he, or any of the other men I've seriously dated, fully understood or appreciated my ambitions. I joke about my plans for world domination (don't worry, I fully plan to be a benevolent dictator), though I'm not always 100% kidding. Those delusions of grandeur you have as a kid? I never got completely over mine. And what I've discovered during the past year, is that it's a helluva lot easier to accomplish your goals without being in a relationship.

When you're dating someone, weekends often are spent in bed, or watching movies, or doing something obnoxiously cute like walking through a botanical garden together. But when you're single, you have entire weekends to devote to crazy things, like launching a nonprofit organization. Note from the voice of experience: it takes a LOT longer than a weekend. Being single affords one the opportunity to do as much or as little as one wants. And for a compulsive doer like me, that generally means you're gonna get shit done.

Celebrating a year of being single just a few months after turning 30 has also been easier to well, celebrate, because the selection of men hasn't been so astounding lately. Sure, I've enjoyed a few nice evenings and dinners in the company of relatively interesting guys. But not so many second dates. Maybe my standards have gotten higher in the past year. Simply put, I have great friends, a good job and entirely too many fulfilling hobbies. I'll gladly make time for a guy, but he has to be pretty damn fantastic.

Who knows what the next year will bring? Hopefully the ride will continue to be exciting... well maybe not quite as exciting.

Belle Curve

2010-02-18T08:56:00.002-05:00

I love Christina Hendricks. She's one of the best reasons to watch Mad Men not named Matthew Weiner, Katherine Jane Bryant or Jon Hamm.

Her portrayal of secretary extraordinaire Joan Holloway is so incredibly fantastic, I dressed up as the character for Halloween and I credit her for the resurgance of dresses and high-waisted skirts in my closet. She's unapologetically voluptuous and her curves are utterly sensual.

The media is also all too enamored of La Hendricks and here she is on the cover of New York Magazine. Totally has made my morning. Every few years, a new "real" woman captures our attention simply for not being a stick figure - Kate Winslet and Jennifer Hudson, anyone? Hopefully, this time it's not just a spectacularly luscious flash in the pan.

Platonic Love is a Many Splendored Thing

2010-02-15T20:32:00.002-05:00

Having recently joined that enviable demographic of single women in their 30s in the New York Metropolitan area, I decided if you can't join 'em, beat 'em.

For the past two years, I've had boyfriends on Valentines Day and while nothing terrible happened either time, nothing especially spectacular happened either. We had quiet dinners at home, one boyfriend cooked, the other one gave me a CD. Just another day.

This year, Valentines Day came just a few weeks before the one-year mark of me being firmly single, a milestone that hasn't bothered me as much as one might guess. Maybe it was the relatively grander shock of recently turning 30 that desensitized me. Regardless of the reason, I decided this year to proudly celebrate Valentines Day as an unattached person rather than cowering in a corner of woe and loneliness. But to truly do it in style, I would need a team.

As has become my custom in the past seven months, I convened my friends - this time just the single ones - for a potluck feast dedicated to Platonic love at my apartment. Foods infused with garlic, greens that might stick in one's teeth and messy desserts were completely welcome as none of us came expecting to snag a date. No lonely hearts set-ups here. We were single and fabulous, exclamation point!

More than a dozen guys and gals gathered to sample our spectacularly tasty culinary creations, to send really hokey puppy & kitten-themed grade school valentines and to play dirty Jenga. And it was the best Valentine's Day I've ever had.

It made me wonder why we get so stuck on having just one significant other, just one certain kind of relationship, just one version of love at this time of year. Not that those relationships and loves aren't mind-blowingly fantastic and the stuff of song and legend for good reason. But why not love love no matter who it comes from?

Luckily we have 364 days until the next Valentine's Day to embrace love whether it's love of our friends, family, certain sports teams or just a certain someone.

Let them Eat Cake

2010-01-27T17:08:00.006-05:00

Unless you live under a rock, it's hard to escape mention of the obesity epidemic plaguing America's children. Reduced time for physical education, the relative cheapness of unhealthy food, ubiquitous video games and plain ol' abundance have led many children to reach dangerous weights while they languish without exercise. Some groups, like Parents Against Junk Food, also point to the availability of foods like Pop Tarts, NutriGrain bars and Gatorade in nearly every cafeteria as a major culprit in the expanding waistlines of kids from Tacoma to Tampa.

As a former chubby kid and currently voluptuous adult, I can sympathize with these kids and at the same time, I think their parents are idiots. Sure, school lunches shouldn't undo any healthy eating habits parents are trying to teach at home and for kids who get a bulk of their daily food from school certainly need nutritious meals with a minimal of processed ingredients, salt and sugar.

However, I have to draw the line at birthday parties. According to a recent report on WNYC's Leonard Lopate Show, some schools are now moving to eliminate or significantly reduce foods like cupcakes and rice crispies treats from kids' birthday parties in the classroom.

Try to imagine elementary school without pizza parties! Sure you probably shouldn't motivate children (or adults) solely through food, but what about the lesson of moderation? I know enough people with kids to hear Elmo talk about "sometimes foods," like ice cream, candy, chips. What better way to teach kids about eating in moderation than telling them that parties are the perfect time to sample less healthy foods?!

All too often in American culture, and particularly in our food culture, we run toward absolute solutions. How often do we hear about raw foods (the elimination of anything cooked), Atkins Diet (the elimination of all carbs), or anorexia (the elimination of food, period)? On the other extreme we have holidays like Thanksgiving, St. Patrick's Day and the Super Bowl that encourage us to consume with abandon. There rarely seems to be that sense of a middle ground that exists in other countries where they may enjoy one glass of wine, one piece of chocolate but draw the line at a bottle or entire bar.

Perhaps rather than forcing the next generation to live within the constraints of hard and fast food rules, we can give them healthier choices while teaching about getting real pleasure from simple indulgences. Besides, with Valentine's Day on the horizon and all those candy hearts calling from the shelves, what better time to learn?

So that happened

2010-01-08T17:56:00.005-05:00

Fastidious readers will notice my tricky backdating on this post, but everyone will hopefully just enjoy the following...

So it happened. I turned 30. No lightning bolt or spontaneous crow's feet. Not even too much shame from my grandmother at the ignominy of my enduring singlehood. Haven't exactly achieved lasting inner peace either, but at least I've gotten over the crying jags.

Since I set out a year ago with 30 separate goals to attain by this time, I have worked with varying degrees of success on everything from reading to travel and eating to blessing. While I can't imagine it's terribly interesting to listen to me banter on about all 30, I figured I would pick a few standouts and defend my actions... or lack thereof.

Items 1 through 6 were all devoted to activities and travel and they were overwhelmingly the easiest to accomplish. Dragging my ass out of the house has never been a big challenge, but I will say that I really appreciated the extra motivation to visit a foreign country, visit Queens (sometimes the same thing), or take a yoga class.

Item 15 - Eat in one of the umpteen New York City restaurants I'm always reading about & lusting over. This was actually the last thing I did on the list, and technically it was a day after the deadline, but when the item in question is eating a delicious brisket sandwich from the Second Avenue Deli, what's a few hours?

Item 21 - Submitting to five different blog carnivals each month seemed like a good idea when the year began. But then I got wrapped up in a relationship that left me without any fantastic inspiration. And then I got laid off and I had plenty of inspiration, but it was all related to finding a new job and starting a new business. Then I got a new job and decided around the same time to launch a whole other business that's still keeping me really busy.

This may seem like excuses, but I really think it says a lot about my growing maturity and my ability to shift my priorities and goals without beating myself up or feeling guilty. Or at least that's the story I'm sticking to.

Item 25 - I have absolutely no excuse for not getting an emergency kit in my car. Guess that one carries over into Year 30.

Item 8 - This started as an item on my list because I've always liked volunteering and I figured I would just try to hit up the food bank a few more times in the past year. Yet somehow along the way it morphed into me creating and launching my own volunteer group for Jewish young adults in New Jersey.

Jersey Tribe has become my new pet project, sadly to the detriment of this blog, but happily a tad more social and hopefully with greater reward for humanity (yes, my ego is that big). Our goal is to organize two events each month that weave together community service, social and philanthropic elements. In January, we're marking MLK Day in a big way with two events and February will bring both a Shabbat Dinner with Israeli Speakers and a Purim Party to Benefit the Jersey Battered Women's Shelter.

If you have any interest in these events - just post a comment and I will be in touch.

Summary - While I have no intention of abandoning Shtetl Fabulous in 2010 for newer sources of amusement, I probably won't be posting with the weekly frequency I aspired to in the past. Hopefully, I will be able to use the blog both to promote my latest ventures and to bring my insights on life, love and eating to the masses... all 10 of you.

I'm learning that it truly does take a village so any suggestions for posts are greatly appreciated. And if you want to help with Jersey Tribe, that's good too!

Thanks to everyone who has supported me in my 29th year and who has continued to be an outstanding friend as I enter 30. Couldn't have done it without any of you.

Women of the Wall

2009-12-28T22:50:00.002-05:00

My dear friend Na'ama sent this article to me from the New York Times (funny since she lives in Portland, OR), about a group of women who have worshiped and fought for religious equality at the Kotel (Western Wall in Israel) for more than 20 years.

Despite tremendous opposition, threats of physical violence and the potential for fines and jail time, these women have come to the Kotel at the start of every Hebrew month (traditionally a time for women to pray together). They pray out loud when the custom is for women to be quiet so as not to tempt the nearby men with their voices. They read from the Torah when the custom is for only men to do so. They wear tallit (prayer shawls) when again the custom is only incumbent upon men. These practices are not strictly forbidden, rather they have evolved to have profound force since women are considered exempt from the commandments under Orthodox interpretation.

From the article, "The Kotel is defined in Israel as a national and holy site that is open to all. In practice, the women say, it operates like an Orthodox synagogue, with separate prayer sections for men and women and a modesty patrol to ensure that visitors are appropriately dressed."

I've been to the Kotel. I dressed in what I considered a demure outfit and still found myself pushed around by the so-called "modesty police" because a sliver of my collarbone peeked out, in Jerusalem, in August. It's unfortunate, but stories like this are part of what deters me from ever wanting to live in Israel on a permanent basis.

While I respect Orthodox interpretations with their strictly divided gender spheres, I don't think that gives anyone the right to exert their believes as the sole option. I wish the Women of the Wall nothing but hatzlacha (success) in their critical mission to bring greater religious pluralism to their society and I hope that with God's help, I can join them in joyful prayer on my next trip to Israel.

Repost: MLK National Day of Service with Jersey Cares

2009-12-19T22:14:00.001-05:00

Spend MLK Day repairing the world with your Jersey Tribe friends and make President Obama proud on this National Day of Service.

There are several projects sponsored by Jersey Cares going on around the state, but in the interest of geography and convenience, the Jersey Tribe will be staking out a painting project at a camp for underpriviledged children in Edison. The first 20 people to RSVP will be guaranteed registration at our group spot. Additional people may have to register individually or may be shut out of the space-limited project.

If you'd prefer to do a different project in another location please visit the Jersey Cares site directly (www.jerseycares.org) to complete your registration. We will coordinate a post-activity lunch for all Jersey Tribe participants.

SPACE IS LIMITED & FIRST-COME/FIRST-SERVE FOR ALL PROJECTS SO RSVP TODAY!

And yes, it would appear that this new Jewish volunteer group endeavor of mine, aka JERSEY TRIBE, has somewhat co-opted this blog. What can I say, I only have so much creative juice in me and right now I'm finding the effort to bring young Jews together for philanthropic, social and charitable activities a bit more rewarding. Give me 6 months - I may change my mind.
In the meantime, comment here if you're interested in participating!

Hannukah Care Packages for Jews in Uniform

2009-12-02T22:10:00.002-05:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I'm starting a group for young Jewish adults in New Jersey to get together and do a little good in the world while making new friends and having fun. If you happen to be in North Jersey on Tuesday night, December 8, and you want to be a part of this event, just leave a comment and I will send you the information offline.

Show your support for Jewish men and women serving in the United States Armed Forces this Hanukkah season. We will be assembling care packages and signing cards for service members who are also Members of the Tribe.

Bring some (meatless) food or drinks to share with your fellow volunteers and $5 to cover the cost of the supplies. I will provide the care package supplies and cards, a DVD of the Hebrew Hammer and a few dreidels.

PLEASE NOTE: If you can't make it to the event but would like to contribute money toward to the purchase of care package items, leave a comment with your email and I will be in touch offline.

Special Thanks to Sara Levenstein, Jonathan Hakakian and the Erwyn Group for their generous donations to this event. And don't forget - Hanukkah starts Friday, December 11.

Need a Name

2009-11-17T21:57:00.002-05:00

After three and a half years of frustration at the lack of meaningful pathways into the New Jersey Jewish community, I have finally reached the point where I've both realized that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself AND I have the time and inclination to actually do it.

While it may mean I neglect this blog even more, I think starting a volunteer/activist group for young Jewish people (25-45) living in Northern and Central NJ will bring a tremendous amount of meaning to my life. I've conducted some informal conversations and have recently launched a survey to assess interest among my peers about volunteering - when, where, why, etc.

Now all I need is a name.

I'd like to avoid anything with too much Hebrew that might alienate less affiliated/Jewishly knowledgeable folks, and besides the Hebrew word for volunteer doesn't roll trippingly off the tongue. Likewise, I don't want anything too hokey or limited just to volunteering, just in case I ever want to expand into social activities or fundraising.

Leave any suggestions on the comment page here and if your name wins, I'll do my best to bestow upon you a worthy prize.

Salute

2009-11-11T17:13:00.004-05:00

Today is Veterans Day and aside from enjoying a random mid-week day off from school when I was a kid, I can't truly recall any other celebration or commemoration of this day. Here in the Tri-State area, apparently Veterans Day means a day off from school AND a parade in the City. Good to know. Unfortunately, for most of us, not going to work or school means that any significance of the day is obliterated by the mundane details of our lives or a great White Sale at Macy's.

While Veterans Day began its life as Armistice Day when World War I ended and switched over to Veterans Day subsequent to WWII in the States. Everyone else in Europe stuck with the original and if Wikipedia is to be trusted, they celebrate it in much the same way we do - lots of official ceremonies and general pomp in honor of military fallen.

Meaning absolutely no disrespect to our honored veterans, but how is this different from Memorial Day? Memorial Day has been around since the end of the Civil War and all too many of us commemorate it in a similarly superficial fashion.

If we really want to honor veterans and make them special, maybe they should be the only ones to get Veterans Day off from work! I mean, really post office, bank and municipal government workers - you just got Columbus Day off and Thanksgiving is only two weeks away. Unless you held an M16 on the beaches of Normandy or the deserts of Fallujah - Get your ass back to work!

Of course, I'm also unclear as how we judge who qualifies as a veteran and therefore worthy of our adoration and respect. Friends of mine who have recently returned from tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan get my vote. As do my rabbi who currently holds the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the Army and all those National Guard members who helped everyone from victims of Katrina to racial line walkers in Little Rock.

But what about someone like my dad? He joined the Guard and trained to be a medic to avoid going to Vietnam. I never heard a single story of demanding basic training officers or heroic feats. Hell, he might have had it easier than Bill Murray in Stripes! Does he count as a veteran? What about ROTC members?

Lest anyone get offended, I absolutely admire the dedication, sacrifice and courage displayed by our men and women in the nations' armed forces. At times, I wish I could feel that sense of patriotism and belief in America's rightness enough to consider getting a paper cut in her defense, let alone dying.

So before you head out to buy that new percale sheet set or snooze a little longer because you don't have to work in the morning, take a minute to thank our veterans and be glad that because they still care - we don't have to.

Farewell to a Hometown Favorite

2009-11-03T10:46:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, the East Valley Tribune, my hometown paper, announced it will be closing its doors and ceasing publication in December. I first learned of the Tribune's fate from the news source that appears to be leading the way in thoughful journalism across the Valley - Heat City. Despite winning a Pulitzer Prize just a few months ago, the Tribune could not sustain declining subscriptions and could no longer hold off the behemoth Arizona Republic from becoming the only newspaper in the Phoenix area.

The editorial staff of Arizona State University's State Press ran this thoughtful tribute. They make a very valid point that with two Arizona newspapers closing in the past year (in May the state's oldest newspaper, the Tucson Citizen shut down), jobs in journalism are even scarcer. Why should students explore degrees in a field that has all but failed to turn any kind of profit?

I remember going to the Trib as a kid for Take Our Daughters to Work Day and I had many friends in high school and college whose parents worked there. I was so proud of Ryan last year when he won the Polk and then the Pulitzer and it's just entirely too sad to see the paper fail now.

As an avid NPR listener and member, I always wonder what would happen if newspapers went in that direction and explored a not-for-profit model. NPR offers free content, always has, and they provide some of the best investigative and non-sensationalist journalism anywhere. Hang in there newspapers of America - be creative and think beyond your bottom line.

It's a Book. It's a Museum. It's...Both!

2009-10-29T21:16:00.003-04:00

Generally, literature is a topic I don't delve into on this blog. It's not that I don't read. There's always a book on my nightstand and my tastes range from David Sedaris essays to Hemingway novels to Sandra Cisneros and a whole bunch of other stuff. I like to mix the high and lowbrow, but I'm not sure how I feel about the literary intersection I heard about yesterday.

Seems that Nobel Laureate Orhan Pamuk decided to promote his latest novel, The Museum of Innocence by opening an exhibit in a museum in his native Istanbul. According to an interview with Pamuk on NPR, visitors to the unnamed museum can experience a tableaux fashioned after the character's world starting in July 2010.

In a form of cross-promotional insanity bordering on the Jon Bon Jovi-esque, "Pamuk began collecting the objects that his protagonist Kemal would save before he even began writing the novel. And, in an unusual instance of literature melding into real life, he plans to display those objects in an actual 'Museum of Innocence.'

The idea for the museum came, in part, from the author's visits to small collections around the world. Pamuk says he's always been attracted to small museums and the 'melancholy' that seems to permeate them."

If I were Seth Meyer, I'd probably just give an eye roll and an exasperated, "really?!" But since I strive for a little something extra, I figured I'd tease this out a bit.

What does it say about our culture that a Nobel Prize winner has both the audacity and the sick genius to collect hypothetical objects his imaginary characters might have possessed had they actually existed? Is this what authors have to submit to in our post-Potter world?

One can only hope that this bizarre clash of literature, spectacle and obsession is an outlier and that we're not going to witness a flurry of Dominican chicken restaurants inspired by Junot Diaz's character Oscar Wao, or actual comic books related to the heroes of Michael Chabon's the Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay. Of course, if someone wants to organize a cross-country trek based on Jack Kerouac's On the Road - I'm all in.

Cobbled Together

2009-10-21T17:27:00.003-04:00

I know I've been pretty lousy at posting lately and I really don't have a solid excuse. The New Jersey governor's race while heated, hasn't exactly captured my political imagination and luckily no major catastrophes have struck too close to home. But, I know it's been a few weeks and my internal sense of blogless guilt has kicked in enough to throw up this piece of random bits.

First off - I do have to ask for some positive energy and prayers. My grandfather is having hip replacement surgery on Monday (Yehuda ben Rachel), a former coworker is undergoing cancer treatment (Chana Leah bat Esther) and a friend's son is awaiting heart surgery (Yehezkiel Chaim ben Chaya Rivka). Thanks.

Secondly, our latest International Culinary Staycation took us to the exotic Orient... or at least the Chinese enclave of Flushing, Queens. From kosher vegetarian dim sum halls to restaurants offering fried pig's blood and food stalls hallowed by the likes of Anthony Bourdain, we ate our way through Flushing with gusto.

As I stared at the thousands of Asian folks eating their native cuisine throughout the neighborhood, I couldn't help but think of the presence of that kosher spot. Why is it that Jews love Chinese food so thoroughly that they get their own rabbi-sanctioned restaurant? You don't see kosher joints in the Greek neighborhood of Astoria, and I know plenty of Yids who love spanikopita! And beyond that - do Chinese people love Jewish food? Does anyone but Jews love food like matzah ball soup, knishes, borscht, brisket and kugel BUT the Jews? I guess we'll see if we ever do a tour of the Lower East Side.

Third. Well, no third at the moment but I suppose anything is possible.

The Last Last Touch

2009-10-06T22:12:00.004-04:00

The October 2009 issue of Gourmet magazine sits on my coffee table, opened to page 126. I started reading last week and stopped when I realized it was a bad idea to read a food magazine on Yom Kippur. The article on the page in question is a preview of some recipes from the newly released Gourmet cookbook, and it reflects heavily on the profound changes in food culture and habits that have taken place in America during the past 10 years.

Of course, any good foodie will knows that this cookbook now serves as a bit of a swan song as publisher Conde Nast announced on Monday that Gourmet will cook up its last issue in November, despite having already begun photography production and recipe development into January, February and March 2010. Citing declined ad revenue and newsstand sales, CN is closing Modern Bride, Elegant Bride (someone please explain the difference) and Cookie along with Gourmet.

As the American culinary epicenter and home base for CN, the New York Times has extensively covered the story and tomorrow's weekly food section is sure to be full of eulogies, reminiscing and interviews with the fallen.

Though I've never met Ruth, Ian, Maggie or any other Gourmet contributors, I've gotten to know them, their families' food traditions, their own flavor preferences, their cooking snafus and triumphs in the pages of the magazine and I suppose I will miss them. It's like hearing your favorite NPR contributor was cut because not enough people pledged during the Fall Fundraiser (Save Bob Hennelly and Contribute to WNYC Today!).

Hearing about their summary expulsion that takes effect at the end of this week, I empathize with the 180 folks at Gourmet whose paltry circulation of 978,000 couldn't compete in the board room with the more recipe-driven, less expository Bon Appetit which moves 1.35 million a month. Again - here's the NYT link.

Melodramatic as it sounds, my heart aches a bit to know my favorite magazine will soon cease to exist. Guys, if you doubt my emotions, try thinking about them pulling Maxim from your mailbox when you were age 19. Countless meals in my kitchen truly began at my coffee table as I poured through the latest issue and the genesis for even more grew from perusals on my grandmother's couch where I first encountered Gourmet.

The macaroni and cheese, the spicy tzimmes, the pomegranate chicken, the chocolate tart and an ungodly number of fantasy dishes sprung forth from the pages of Gourmet and inspired me to take a chance on a new ingredient or to attempt a challenging technique. The food porn of these recipes and of pretty, young things chowing down on them are par excellence, so buy a newsstand copy quickly before they disappear.

But none of these things really capture what set Gourmet apart from any good cookbook or the myriad other cooking magazines out there. What made Gourmet iconoclastic (love when I can use that word) was where it took us as readers, as cooks and as eaters beyond our own kitchens and our comfort zones.

Pushing the envelope with daring exposes on the human cost of the food industry (The Price of Tomatoes, March 2009), Gourmet made the edible political and raised important, if cringe-worthy questions about the implications of what we eat. With poignant pieces on oft-forgotten tasks (Framing a Life, August 2008), Gourmet taught a little beekeeping biology and brought a tear to many an eye. Food-based escapades from as near as the Bronx and as far as Basque Country and Burma fueled wanderlust and helped to inspire my own culinary staycations.

More than its basic components, Gourmet represented something in food preparation and enjoyment as it evolved from its founding in 1914, and yet remained completely fresh and modern. Few other institutions have weathered profound cultural shifts, inundation of foreign influence, changing tastes and political correctness with such grace, wit and stamina.

It's difficult to close this post and I certainly do not envy Editor-in-Chief Ruth Reichl's task in bidding adieu to her bastions of loyal readers. But if I've learned anything from Gourmet's own back page, titled The Last Touch, it helps to have a food-based theme. A review of Gourmets stacked in my living room revealed a range of topics for this feature: zucchini, pudding, ham, ice pops, lime, dumplings, etc.

For my own Last Touch, I'd like to offer a few favorite recipes and stories from my own reading of Gourmet.

The Heat of the Matter - travel story to southern Turkey in pursuit of one man's pepper obsession.

The collection of soup recipes from the February 2009 issue, it's absolutely perfect as fall settles in and here are some links: Tunisian Chard Soup, Red Bean Soup and Thai-Style Chicken Soup. Who's ready to cuddle?!

No Such Thing as a Free Lunch - article about a school-based food growing program on the Red Cloud Indian Reservation in South Dakota.

Frozen Mango, Blackberry Cassis and Vanilla Mosaic - absolutely the most beautiful, easy and semi-healthy dessert I have ever seen. I swear on the soul of Gourmet I will finally make it.

There you have it. My best ode to the best food magazine ever. Do yourself a favor, crack open an old issue, buy the new one or go online to Epicurious and whip up your own culinary tribute. Happy eating!

Spirit in the Sky

2009-10-01T23:30:00.006-04:00

We've made it through the more ominous of the Jewish high holidays and as of Friday at sundown we start that week where Jews hang out in backyard huts and shake tree branches and lemons in every geographic direction. By the way, it's called Sukkot and it's a really great holiday but not the topic of tonight's post.

For now, I thought I would regress to one of the themes that dominates both Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement). No, not repentance or how to survive a 25-hour fast. I'm gonna dig a little deeper in these next few paragraphs of random musings and try to get a conversation going about God.

I make absolutely zero claims here and have no intention but to describe how I sort of envision a higher power. More than anything, I'd love to spark a few ideas in your head, dear reader, and to read your own thoughts in the comments section. Oh and I'm uber-rebellious and spelling out the word God. A format like a blog is ephemeral enough for me to sport the ineffable. So there.

Like most good little Jewish kids, I learned about God creating the Universe in six days and then resting for a day before doing things like kicking out Adam and Eve, parting the Red Sea and rocking a few miracles. We got some vague lesson about God not being a man or a woman, but then all the prayers seemed to be addressed to a rather powerful and sometimes angry dude.

As an adult, I'd like to think my conception of the Almighty has evolved somewhat and here's what I've come up with that works for me. God or Yahweh or some higher power designed the world in a way that everything harmonizes together. Whether that took place in seven days as we conceive of them or in "God days" that actually take a few millennia, I'd like to think that certain things are just too perfect to be totally random. Flower petals, symbiotic animal relationships, etc.

After that initial breath of life so to speak, God set the ball in motion and left it to the created beings to take over. God may or may not know what we do on a daily basis and God may or may not care. God may have a jam-packed schedule or may be stuck in traffic on the 405.

I don't believe God is a He or a She. God is just God and our language is too damn limited to figure out how to talk about God without restrictive pronouns or gendered adjectives. God may be majestic, sheltering, compassionate, merciful, judging, infinite and 72 other things, but God isn't a man or a woman. That said, ask me again after a day in pantyhose and heels and I may denounce this whole paragraph and voice my frustration with God for making my ass and legs look so much better in such uncomfortable clothes.

Finally, I'm pretty convinced there isn't any difference between Yahweh, Ahura Mazda, Vishnu, Jesus, Allah, Zeus or Buddha. They're all manifestations or slightly varied conceptions on a Creator imbued with greater power and force than us mere mortals. Listen, the Universe is a complex place. People need a little cosmic organization and nothing says anal-retentive like an all-encompassing, all-knowing Supreme Being.

So there you have it. Nothing earth-shattering or academically sourced, but it's my honest view of a ridiculously ambiguous and challenging notion. Take from it what you will and then if you feel sufficiently brave, share. Thanks for being a part of this fun little group project and please be respectful of others before you post. Let the theology begin!

End of an Era

2009-09-24T22:05:00.009-04:00

As I write this, there are only 4 days left until I start my new job, thus ending what has been one of the most rewarding and simultaneously frustrating five months of my life. Most of the time, unemployment leads people to hide under the covers or to dive into a bottle of some alcoholic beverage. And while I certainly had utterly shit-tastic days that led me to believe I would never again find suitable employ, let alone my dream job, overall I managed to keep some semblance of a positive attitude and earn some extra cash.

Since May, I have traveled to two foreign countries, led my friends on three culinary excursions, attended four weddings, put thousands of miles on my car, spent time with family and launched a freaking business! At this point, I can't even imagine where I would be mentally had I worked at my old job these past several months. Just as everyone predicted - I am in a better place in terms of my sanity, happiness, harmony with the universe and general satisfaction. Hopefully, I will be able to say the same thing after 5 months on the job.

People have asked me how I came up with the idea for my business and how I maintained a positive attitude after going through some tough times. Really, I can't offer any sage wisdom beyond the notion of simply choosing to take lemons and make a mean Tom Collins (with a dose of irony since I don't drink gin).

As the end of this astounding era approaches, I find myself more occupied with figuring out how I will adjust to actually working again. When will I get my oil changed if I'm at work all-day and I can't hire my own concierge services? How will I wake up every morning at a responsible hour or get myself to bed at night before the end of the Colbert Report? I've totally forgotten, how do office politics work? Will having a job be more exhausting than letting myself run around like a crazy person all day or less?

I wish I was just being glib about some of these concerns, but I really do worry and wonder about what this new chapter of my life will bring. Though I'm geographically staying put and working in a similar field, I'll be learning a whole new skill set and coming back from my longest vacation EVER. Who knows what adventures will come my way in the future but whatever happens I'm sure it will bring good blog posts.

Shana Tova 5770

2009-09-18T12:04:00.001-04:00

After such a tough year for so many of us, when we were forced to re-examine our priorities and look at the world through a different lens, I hope we can all maintain our perspective and our senses of humor to face what lies ahead with strength and determination.

Wishing you, your families and all your loved ones a New Year filled with...
Health and Happiness
Peace and Prosperity
Blessing and Balance

Shana Tova U'Metuka!

Here's a little greetings from President Obama - he actually does a good job with the Hebrew!

Haveil Havalim Time

2009-09-14T12:46:00.000-04:00

Here's a link to this week's Haveil Havalim, hosted by The Reform Shuckle. Check it out here and be sure to read some of the fantastic posts from across the Jewish spectrum.

A Penny Saved is a Book Deal Earned

2009-09-13T12:03:00.002-04:00

Back in my college days, I actually got paid to write about various topics ranging from escaped West African performance artists to Carl Reiner to the legalization of the abortion pill and interracial relationships. I also spent a semester serving as Arts Editor of the Arizona Daily Wildcat with a shyly brilliant observer of human habits named Phil Villarreal.

A few years ago, he asked me to edit his first book, Stormin’ Mormon, which he went on to self-publish. One of the only copies sold now sits proudly on my shelf and I was honored to be included in the acknowledgements.

More recently, Villarreal (here's a link to his blog) released Secrets of a Stingy Scoundrel: 100 Dirty Little Money-Grubbing Secrets to broad publicity including book signings, stories in newspapers nationwide and coverage on morning shows in his current home of Tucson and in the bigger market of Phoenix. And since shameless self-promotion is a habit the author and I share, I was all too happy to add my own critical take on the book to his list of clips.

Many of the suggestions are utterly ridiculous and yet incredibly logical if you follow Villarreal’s central premise that saving money is a noble goal unto itself. Into this category falls #33 about the psychology behind the dealer and customer when buying a car. Similarly, #35, advises readers at the negotiation table to simply ask for another $20 or $50 off the deal in order to get your name on the dotted line. Audacious as it is, when you think about it, why shouldn’t you ask for an extra $50 off? It’s a free night out on the town or family time at the movies and you earned that money!

The section of the book that I would seriously consider implementing, societal judgment be damned, was the portion covering Finance. Villarreal offers such logical suggestions of avoiding ATM fees, paying down debt and taking advantage of rebates.

He even manages to challenge fiduciary stereotypes while bringing an element of humor to the art (or tedium) of coupon clipping, “It saddens me that coupon clipping is viewed as the pastime of the desperate housewife…Here and now I want to start an effort to reclaim coupon clipping for men everywhere. I want Harley riders to start keeping plastic, accordion-style coupon holders in the back of their hogs. I want UFC fighters to tout the benefits of $1 off Raisin Bran coupons after bouts. I want John Wayne to rise from the grave, visit a Circle K, and push a buy-one-get-one-free Thirstbuster card over the counter.” Classic.

Also in Finance is #44 which offers Villarreal’s personal story of shaving $1000 off the hospital bills that came with the birth of his second child earlier this year. How did he accomplish this feat? By simply calling the billing department and asking for a 25% discount in exchange for paying in full right away. Audacious, but I will admit I trimmed $600 off my rent for the year just by making a phone call to my management company.

But back to those utterly absurd suggestions that other critics of this book have been so eager to point out. There’s an entire section of them that Villarreal prefaces with the following disclaimer, “Let me make clear that the advice from here on out is strictly for laughs, and I’m not held responsible if you actually enact any of this insanity. Try any of these heinous tactics and you’ll be in need of a soul cleansing, but you’ll also have a bigger bank account and great stories to tell at parties.”

So what falls into this odious section that has raised the ire of humorless columnists and morning show hosts? Let’s just say some of the suggestions involve posing as an illegal immigrant, turning your pet in a foundling, scamming bartenders and the ever-popular Dumpster diving. The book advises against ever attempting these money-saving tactics for fear of incarceration, but my hunch is that many of us have pondered such schemes, generally under the influence of booze or various hallucinogens. Besides, as a Netflix user I’m a big fan of #76 and I’m pretty convinced my last two boyfriends used #82 on me.

Ultimately, anyone who’s been poor, merely felt poor, gone through unemployment, gone through college or who doesn’t mind losing a few points of social grace for the same of saving a few bucks will thoroughly enjoy Secrets of a Stingy Scoundrel. If you loyally adhere to the tips contained therein, you will more than make up for the $9 price tag on Amazon. Avoid the shipping fees to make Scrooge and Villarreal proud.

No Reservations Indeed

2009-09-06T20:31:00.008-04:00

Blessed with approximately six weeks between accepting my new job and actually starting my job, I decided in classic Shtetl Fab style to keep busy by embarking on some spectacular adventures. Aside from the usual coffee dates with friends and catching up on my Netflix, I decided to take advantage of my close geographic proximity to some of the most diverse ethnic neighborhoods in America.

I conducted a little research on Wikipedia and made a list of six destinations representing a range of global cuisines and then began the recruitment process as I decided these dining and shopping destinations would be best enjoyed in the company of friends.

A group of nine intrepid souls embarked on our first excursion, which I've dubbed "International Culinary Staycations," this past Friday night in the Middle Eastern/Turkish neighborhood of Paterson, NJ. Some of the people were old friends, others were new acquaintances, but we all had a love of food and tremendous stomach capacity in common.

Our first rendezvous point was Toros Turkish Restaurant off Hazel Street. There we enjoyed a rousing course of appetizers, all of which were vegetarian-friendly and all of which proved quite tasty. I highly recommend the spinach and yogurt hot dish and the cheese-filled sigaria. Coming here with a big group was fantastic as we all shared the different items in tapas fashion. Just as we prepared to leave, a man began to play a sitar in a roped-off casbah area of the beautifully ornate restaurant. It felt really authentic and was just a great way to send us off to our next destination.

Just across the street is Taskin Bakery, which has been supplying traditional Turkish breads and bagels to the Paterson community since 1997. The aroma as you enter this modest bakery is worth the trip alone and our brigade of eaters quickly snapped up pitas, simit (bagels), acma (knish) and borek (savory or mildly sweet pies). Taskin's products can be found at many local restaurants, including Toros, and it's clearly a neighborhood favorite as we encountered many people stocking up for the imminent breaking of the daily Ramadan fast.

Next, we walked about half a mile to the main drag of the Paterson Middle Eastern community, appropriately enough called Main Street. We passed umpteen markets, restaurants, an Islamic fashion center where we all declined trying on the latest hijab styles and even a houkah store. We saw a small group of men praying in a grassy area on the side of the road, my first time encountering such a sight. Meanwhile, our ears were treated to a typically American melting pot of musical styles and we heard everything from an imam's chants to the Notorious B.I.G.

My personal highlight came in the Istanbul Market (931 Main St.) where we encountered an incredibly friendly man. He wanted to know why we had come to Paterson and then he freely gave out advice on the best products and even offered samples of delicious Turkish olives. I asked him how long he'd owned the market and he confessed that he was not the owner, but merely a very loyal customer. You have to love that.

Another market yielded succulent dates, a shuk's worth of spices, drippingly-sweet baklava, cheeses, jewelry and these bizarre candies that tasted like the miscegenated child of M&Ms and chickpeas. One girl balked at buying a water pipe in the aforementioned houkah store and we sallied forth to our final Paterson destination.

As we entered the AlBasha Palestinian/Lebanese restaurant, the nightly breaking of the Ramadan fast was in full force, but luck was on our side and the establishment had a ten-seat table ready and waiting for us. I suppose in these parts, you could call that kismet. Here, we were clearly outsiders as practically the only non-Middle Eastern diners, and while there was a bit of a language gap, it did not dampen the hospitality.

Everyone chose the buffet - apparently a common offering during Ramadan judging by the proliferation of posters advertising "Special Ramadan Buffets" along Main Street - and by some astonishing gastronomic feat, we crammed more food into our already full bellies. The buffet was less vegetarian-friendly, but after so much nibbling and feasting, it hardly mattered. While the food at Toros was more refined and clearly catered to more visitors from outside the neighborhood, but AlBasha offered a glimpse into a typical restaurant where local families go on a regular basis.

Throughout the evening, I marveled at the fortitude of my friends who like me really love food and who like me really love being adventurous in the process. In our all-too-often segregated world, where we allow stereotypes or fear of the unknown to keep us in a behavioral rut, it is amazing to see how food can breakdown barriers and build common ground. I could wax rhapsodic about the incredibly big smile this night put on my face, but the simple fact is that Anthony Bourdain (part of the inspiration for these adventures) has done it far better. There's also a segment on WNYC that similarly cajoled listeners to take their taste buds on a little trip.

If you live in the Tri-State area and want to join our next International Culinary Staycation, please comment with your email and I will add you to the Evite. If you live elsewhere, please start exploring the delicious options in your area today. You won't be disappointed and you probably won't need reservations.

To Your Health

2009-08-28T14:28:00.001-04:00

I've hesitated to dip my toes into the wide-ranging and increasingly rancorous debate over health care reform in America for several reasons. One, I'm not so desperate for mail that I want to start getting hate mail. Two, while I have a master's in public policy, I didn't focus on health policy and am hardly an expert. Three, I've been a little busy.

But with the passing this week of Senator Edward Kennedy, one of health care reform's most ardent supporters, I could no longer resist jumping into the fray. Besides, it gave me something else to blog about this week .

As stated above, I am by no means an authority on health care or the detailed minutiae of government regulations. However, I have a pretty good idea of what I believe are basic human rights that a nation such as ours should endow to all its citizens. I know that totally outs me as a bleeding-heart liberal and I am completely comfortable with that label. Yes dear readers, I give a shit about my fellow citizens. Let the AK-47s fire!

Plus, I have entirely too many family members who have battled chronic illnesses and I know the incredible importance of quality health care. It is beyond my imagination how anyone deals with health problems in the absence of comprehensive coverage. So here is my essentially unresearched, deeply personal vision for what health care should look like in our country. President Obama, if you're reading this - hi there - I'm still available for a new job.

THE SHTETL FABULOUS HEALTH CARE PLAN

PART ONE - The Working (not-yet) Stiffs
If your employer offers a health care plan that fits your needs and is affordable, take it. I know HMOs aren't perfect, but they are a huge piece of the puzzle and it would probably cost so much to dismantle them, that we'd piss away all the allocations right from the start.

Within the employer-provided plans, I do have one new policy in which I strongly believe. If you're like me and you're reasonably healthy, you should have the option at the end of each year to reinvest a portion of your unused (but paid for) premiums into a personal health savings account. That way when your health goes through an inevitable rough spot, you will have some cash in the bank to cover your ass, or your pancreas, or your lungs. Whichever goes first.

If you use up all your premiums and have cash leftover, then you can designate some for a special health savings account too. Or you can take some of that cash and donate it to me.

PART TWO - The Old Folks
If you're already on Medicare, just stay there. You're old and probably resistant to change and like in Part One, it would cost too much to make all the modifications so you might as well stay where you're at.

For those on Medicaid, it's a little different. It would be best if you could just get a job that offers full coverage, but if that isn't in the cards, then I suggest you stay tuned for Part Three.

PART THREE - The 47 Million
If you fall into that egregious statistic of the 47 million uninsured Americans, this is for you. Clearly, you've been stuck between a rock and a hard place for a while. You either are self-employed and not wealthy enough to buy insurance for yourself, or you work for a small company that isn't mandated to provide coverage, or you have some freakish illness that makes you like the kid who pees in the pool and no insurance company wants to take you.

Luckily, there's a ton of you in this category, so all your health shit more or less balances out so that we can average the costs to the "system" and call it even. One year, Mr. Gonzalez will cost a lot because he has diabetes and in the next year Ms. Wilson will cost a lot because she needs a hysterectomy. You get the idea.

By creating a government-backed, perhaps independently-run (or gov't-run) insurance company, all these folks will have the option to sign up and get the same level of coverage as those lucky bastards in Part One and Two. Yeah, it's the PUBLIC OPTION and it's a good fucking idea so stop bitching about it.

Is it going to cost a lot? More than likely, it will. Is it socialism? No, it's simply ethically right. And Medicall (my new name for the program), will also allow everyone in Part Three to get the same preventative care as those in the other categories that will ultimately prevent them from needed obscenely expensive care when their illnesses and conditions become acute. Like a hybrid car, it will cost more on the front end but will save our nation money in the long run with healthier citizens and fewer unnecessary procedures.

Besides, Howard Dean had some good stuff to say about it in the New York Times last week, “There are too many people who understand, including the president himself, the public option is absolutely linked to reform,” he said. “You can’t have reform without a public option. If you really want to fix the health-care system, you’ve got to give the public the choice of having such an option.”

Just like in Part One, people choosing to get their health insurance through Medicall would have the ability to invest their unused premiums into a savings account.

PART FOUR - Peanut Butter Jelly-Time

PART FIVE - Medicall versus the HMO
Over on the Republican side of the aisle, legislators are freaking out that a government-backed insurance company would easily trounce the private sector since profit would not be their bottom line. And on the surface, I can understand their fears. Capitalism is certainly the American way and allowing the free market to solve various societal problems has often proven to be the best solution.

However, there are people's lives at stake and we all pay for ridiculous deadweight losses when we consider what it costs to provide emergency coverage for those 47 million people in Part Three.

Also, since both liberals and conservatives will play a role in drafting the legislation for the new program (or whatever reform passes), the policies can be drafted in a way that forces Medicall to be competitively priced, subject to market changes and ostensibly similar to employer-backed offerings. It can also require people to first go through their employers' insurance companies.

Sure, people may still choose Medicall over their job-based coverage and HMOs may still be at risk unless they take this opportunity to re-examine their own offerings and to make them better. Here's just a few ideas I have to make private-insurance companies better enough that people would choose them over government-sponsored Medicall.
Better doctor choices
Discounts for gym memberships & yoga
No referral requirements
Holistic care
Coverage of vitamins & supplements
Full mental health, dental and vision care
Non-ER emergency help
Better preventative care

There you have it. Senator Kennedy can rest in peace if only the powers that be will listen to the wisdom of the Shtetl. And let the comments begin!

Managing Expectations

2009-08-25T09:24:00.005-04:00

For the convenience of those lazy readers out there, I will begin at the end. Last week, after nearly four months of tireless searching, I accepted a new job. The specifics of the position will allow me to have a manager-level position on my resume, will offer me a chance to learn new, marketable skills and will only occupy my time four days a week, thereby allowing me to keep up my concierge service business. It's also only a few miles from my apartment which means I don't have to move.

Since being laid off on May 1, I wrote 27 different versions of my resume, submitted nearly 100 cover letters, interviewed with 17 organizations, spent entirely too much money on NJ Transit, made umpteen phone calls and sent a litany of emails to friends, colleagues, classmates, advisers and sometimes even total strangers. I made a thorough accounting of my unique skills, did several self-assessment tests and humbly reached out to my contacts for informational meetings whenever possible.

As I wrote on Facebook, I absolutely could not have gotten through this test in my life without the amazing friends who called me to check in, who bought me a drink, who sent me job listings and who generally encouraged me along the way.

Yet, I've titled this post "Managing Expectations" for a very specific reason. I'm not taking my dream job. What I am taking is a 15% pay cut from my old job and the risk of working within the same community, albeit under the auspices of a different agency. I'm not working in the cutting-edge, innovative environment I had imagined, but rather am working for an organization that goes back almost 150 years and provides some of the most basic human services one can imagine.

Most critically, I'm not relocating which means I do get to keep my aforementioned awesome group of friends, but I also keep the challenges of living an involved Jewish life as a single girl in suburban New Jersey. Hopefully, my 4 day/week schedule will allow me some extra time to create new opportunities for Jewish young adults in my area to mingle and with Fridays off, I can travel a bit more too.

And I suppose this mental act of making vodka-spiked lemonade out of life's lemons is the biggest lesson that I have learned in this latest episode of my life. Many people of my generation were taught hard work guaranteed delivery of your heart's desire and that having it all was inherently possible.

I absolutely feel that I have identified myself (and my friends) based on the bags we carry, the vacations we take and the cocktails we drink. After two master's degrees and three years of post-grad work, I expected a certain earning power that simply has not translated in our society's new reality.

Now with this economic crisis particularly crippling the mid-level/pre-executive labor market, those of us on the Generation X/Y cusp have had to re-evaluate and learn serious new skills. We garden, trade food, cook for each other or eat in cheaper restaurants rather than dining in the newest hot spot. We barter and enlist each others' sweat equity. We give smaller gifts and give our time more than our money. We may not fear the label of "thrifty," the way we would have in college or lusher days. We go on walking dates instead of happy hours.

I cannot begin to wonder what the next several months will bring and I have also learned that long-term planning is an exercise best executed in terms of generalities. The next few weeks will be a true gift as I have until after Yom Kippur to start my new job. I am hoping to take a few cultural and culinary staycations around New York and New Jersey so please send your suggestions for your favorite ethnic neighborhood so I can get additional stamps in my virtual passport.

And yes, doing a better job keeping up with this blog will be on the agenda as well.

Pura Vida

2009-08-18T22:04:00.000-04:00

PART ONE PUBLISHED AUGUST 15, 2009

Pura Vida is a motto in Costa Rica that captures the national zeitgeist in a way similar to that of Aloha in Hawaii and Hakuna Matata in singing/dancing duos of meerkats and warthogs. Literally translating to "pure life," Ticos (as Costa Ricans are familiarly called) dole out well-wishes of pura vida on all occasions. In practice, pura vida can be used to say "thank you," "you're welcome," "have a nice day," "I like drugs/anonymous sex," you name it. The only other word that comes to mind with such versatility is "fuck," which I rarely heard during my recent week in Costa Rica.

I did hear a lot of Spanish and I had much occasion to practice the language, allowing me to feel comfortable in checking #29 off my list. And aside from the frequest pura vidas sprinkling their speech, I didn't notice too many other lingual nuances of Tico Spanish the way that Cuban, Mexican or Castillian versions of the language instantly set themselves apart. And that blending into the surrounding Central American Latino culture characterized much more than the language.

Unlike so many of their neighbors, Costa Rica is a peaceful country with less political upheaval and no standing army. Here the tourist is king and the natural world is his kingdom. Within a few hours' drive of the airport, you can experience beaches (in August 2009, Jaco Beach hosted the World Surfing Championships), mountains, volcanoes, rain forests, cities and more. While you won't experience much high culture in the form of museums, symphonies or theaters, your camera will go crazy with all the amazing vistas and unusual animals.

More to come soon... heading out for the night. Check back early next week for a full report on my Costa Rican adventure!

OK, so it's taken me four days but I'm going to make my best effort to finish this post. In between contemplating my future, drinking with friends, embarking on a new exercise mission and lord knows what else - I put a bit more thought into what I got out of my Costa Rican adventure.

Normally, I find these travelogues easy to write. I love going to a new place, making various observations (or judgments) and then bringing those hopefully witty insights to you, dear readers.

However, I have had a tough time coming up with a way to frame my experience. At first, I thought it might be because my previously blogged journeys to Cancun and Portland were largely solo enterprises where I had plenty of time to opine, journal and explore. In contrast, I took this trip with three friends and had to make a real effort to carve out "me time," a commodity I value much more after three months of unemployment.

More than that, I think having trouble writing more than just a "If it's Monday then we must be open ocean kayaking," type record of this trip stems from there being minimal meat beyond the observations. Costa Rica is an absurdly beautiful country. The scenery is breathtaking - whether it's the beach, the mountains or even the synagogue sanctuary. The people are nice, they are patient with your middling Spanish and they generally go out of their way for tourists. The food is tasty and I ate my weight in black beans and rice and plantains (often in the same breakfast).

If you're looking for a relaxing vacation in a great natural setting that is generally affordable and safer than many other developing nations, go to Costa Rica. Hell, even take the kids. Plenty of other people did.

If you're looking for inspiration for anything literary or juicy, you might have to dig a little deeper and mingle with locals on topics other than the negative side effects of the rainy season or the tasty queso palmito. Or maybe that's all there is to it. Like that super-sweet cheerleader who is fun to be around but lousy when you want to dissect The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Costa Rica entices you with its looks but can disappoint when you want something a tad more real.

And in the end that may not be an entirely bad thing. After months of deep self-reflection and ridiculously laborious job hunting, a vacation with less effort and investigation may have been precisely what the Department of Labor bureaucrat ordered.

For those who do want to know about my first attempt at snorkeling, being stuck at the San Jose Chabad kids' Shabbos dinner table or how I managed to make 5 new Facebook friends while traveling in a foreign country, I'm happy to oblige. In the meantime, accept this humble reporting, hasta luego and of course, Pura Vida!

Adios Amigos

2009-08-04T00:03:00.003-04:00

When I was first laid off, I pondered the idea of taking a month to travel around the world. Preferably mooching off of friends in Israel for a while, then maybe jetting over to Macedonia to hobnob with my cousin the ambassador. Then reality and the exhaustion of professionally job hunting set in and I scaled back my plans.

A friend sent me links for cheap flights to Ireland and another talked up skiing in South America. But since I've already visited the British Isles and I'm utterly useless on snow-bound modes of transportation.

Then one day, I decided to search for flights in Central America whilst sipping a latte at my favorite local coffee shop. I spotted a great deal to Costa Rica and posted the sensational find to my status. Instantly, my friend Jannah who I've known since our Hebrew School days back in Arizona, voiced her interest. Then my friend Florence who represents Brooklyn alerted me to her status of the previous day where she espoused interest in a similar jungle-bound vacation.

Another friend joined the pack and thus a girls' tropical adventure was born. Hard to believe that just a few weeks later, I've got a packed bag, a boarding pass, some quality beach reads and a lot of sunscreen. Befitting of my slightly-less controlling between-employment self, I have relinquished much of the planning to my travel buddies and wherever the winds take me.

I cannot express the full extent of my excitement in a week that involves kayaking, fresh off the tree pineapples, exploring volcanoes, swimming in hot springs/pools/the Pacific Ocean and lord knows what else in lieu of managing spreadsheets and reciting my resume for total strangers.

Though I cannot guarantee a travelogue as detailed as my trip to Cancun two years ago, I would hate to break a streak of summer vacation blog posts (last year was Portland) so be sure to check in later next week for a full accounting of all the awkward tan lines, the communication challenges and the exquisite scenery. And for all you Facebook fans of Shtetl Fab, there will be pictures to boot! Hasta luego everyone!

Whatever Works

2009-07-29T17:08:00.003-04:00

No, I haven't seen Woody Allen's new mixed-review flick. Though I do have two AMC Theater passes languishing in my desk drawer if anyone wants to make a date of it. In this case, I've been pondering if taking the "whatever works" attitude should apply to all areas of our lives.

The other day, I asked an especially spiritual friend of mine to send out some positive energy to help me find my dream job. I've been working hard to harness the power of the law of attraction, so I too have been envisioning myself in my new office, working with my new colleagues, buying new Mad Men-inspired outfits, etc. I even petitioned the cashier at Trader Joe's with the septum piercing to help me out by focusing on those good vibes and helping me claim my fantastic job.

Though I've expressed some skepticism over The Secret in the past - I simply cannot believe that those poor people on the Taconic Parkway last Sunday manifested themselves into a head-on collision with a woman so out of it she didn't know she was driving the wrong way on a one-way highway. However, in this challenging job market, you've got to pull out all the stops. Allah, Buddha, Vishnu I love you all.

Or do I? When I asked my friend to help me out by thinking positively, she offered to guide me in a shamanistic journey. Now, I like to think of myself as being open-minded, but it truly gave me pause to consider the idea of participating in this ritual. Could I participate in it? Was it against my religion? Did I care if it was?

Ultimately, I decided to decline the offer and I didn't even have to ask my rabbi about it. Just as I wouldn't be comfortable going to Mass and taking communion in order to obtain grace in God's eyes, I don't think it's OK for me to do so in a more "New Age" context either. It's interesting how we look at non-Judeo Christian religions with a more tolerant eye. Why is that?

If my friend finds meaning in her shamanistic practice, or someone else finds comfort in lighting a candle and saying a novena and other says tehillim (psalms) - I think that's fantastic and I sincerely thank them for seeking Divine intervention on my behalf. I hope I can someday return the favor and under happy conditions.

Rarely am I presented with situations that truly force me to examine my beliefs, especially on issues of idol worship or monotheism. Usually, I'm just worried if I can eat the potato skins or if they have bacon on them. Maybe the plus side to all this is that I got a nice distraction from the immediate concerns of my job search and instead got to dwell on deep dogmatic issues for a change. In the meantime, I'm going to go burn some sage... that's still OK, right?

Of Kidneys, Politics and Shame

2009-07-24T13:06:00.002-04:00

Mired so deeply in what I hope are the final stages of my job hunt, it's admittedly been difficult to gather my thoughts together on various events of my life and the world around me. Diligent readers will note I completely failed to describe my trip to Montreal at the beginning of July. It's not that it was a lousy trip - actually we had a pretty great time butchering the French language, exploring the sights, working on our tans and loving Jazz Fest.

I've got a few other blog-orific ideas up my sleeve that I'm hoping to tackle before I take off for Costa Rica in early August. For now, I just wanted to offer a few reflections on the staggering FBI round-up that went down in New Jersey yesterday.

The story is pretty much lead news on every major media outlet so I'll let you take your pick of the Star Ledger, New York Times, CNN, etc. What I do want to highlight is this fantastic story from WNYC's Brian Lehrer Show about medical anthropologist Nancy Scheper-Hughes who tipped the FBI off to the despicable illegal organ trafficking perpetrated by Levy Itzhak Rosenbaum of Brooklyn. Listen here and be both proud of the power of journalism and shamed by the power of human greed.

I also can't possibly ignore the utterly shameful connection of the Jewish community, and the Orthodox enclaves of Brooklyn and Deal, NJ, to this story. As if the Jews needed worse press and the rumor mills needed further fodder for their hate-filled ideas that Jews run the international banking system.

Since its so repugnant, I'm just going to resort to an old Yid tactic and make a joke...If it's true that the Jews run the banks and ostensibly,the world, then why is it that I'm still job hunting after 3 1/2 months!?

For an angle on the story from those inside the Orthodox world, I'll recommend Vos iz Neias. Normally, I wouldn't direct people to a source pretty beyond my own frame of reference or politics, but in this story which such clear villians, I think it's safe.

I'm off to a much-needed Shabbat island of relaxation in the Outer Boroughs, but I'm eager to see how these stories pan out and how far-reaching the corruption will go. With any luck, the one silver lining will be quality reporting, interviewing and research that goes to the heart of high-caliber investigative journalism... and maybe a few friends' jobs saved.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

2009-07-16T18:42:00.003-04:00

I just want you to know.

No for real. I have become quite the hustler in the past 2 1/2 months (and don't worry Mom, it's all legal unless you count circumventing the IRS). Just this month, I've earned enough money from my side business, Amalgamated Missel Concierge Services, to pay for my upcoming flight to Costa Rica. It's also helping take some of the pressure off my bills.

Beyond being sufficiently scrappy to launch a personal services business using former donors as my largest client base, I've also put my gumption to work on various forms of public transit. Last week, I introduced myself to someone whose career in Jewish communal service spans more than 50 years while riding home from the City on the Midtown Direct line. He told me about the trip to a post-World War II orphans' home in France where he met Elie Wiesel and was inspired to work for the Jewish community. I discretely passed him my business card and dropped a few key names. Though his organization doesn't have any current jobs, their HR director now has my name and resume.

And as some of my closest friends heard, the creme-de-la-creme of self-aggrandizement came on Tuesday when I met a NJ-based reporter for the local NPR affiliate, WNYC, on the train. I overheard him leaving a voice mail for someone on the platform and watched him take a seat a few rows ahead of me. As the train pulled into Penn Station, I stood up and when he did the same, I put out my hand and told him what a fan I am.

We talked and walked over to the 1 Train and rode together, chatting all the way. I clearly mentioned my unemployed status, my journalism degree, previously-submitted application for a development job at WNYC and thrust my business card into his hand. I jumped off at 14th Street and figured I would go on their website when I got home to dig up his email address.

No need. When I stepped off the train at 11 p.m. back in Morristown, I heard, "Hey!" and saw my new best friend there on the platform. He told me he'd already sent me a few emails, one of which detailed WNYC's purchase of a local classical music station and the possibility of an expanded workforce. The next morning, I sent him my resume and cover letter.

For now, I'm just asking for all the positive energy in the universe to help me out here... and for a little more moxie.

Haveil Havalim Courtesy of How to Be An Israeli

2009-07-12T12:51:00.004-04:00

My friend Maya at How to Be Israeli took on the Herculean task of this week's Haveil Havalim. Be sure to check it out here.

There's great links to all kinds of blogs and some fantastic pictures including this one from Israel the Beautiful.

Enjoy and have a great week!

Halfway There

2009-07-08T14:04:00.005-04:00

Hard to believe but today marks the halfway point in my 30 By 30 quest. You can read the original post here, but I figured now was as good a time as any to take a step back and do a little pontificating on being 29 1/2.

There's the obvious fear currently compounded by my joblessness, but there's also a tremendous sense for reflection. This may be because of the excessive free time alone with my thoughts that has come along as a sometimes malevolent side kick of unemployment, but I think it also comes with reaching a milestone that our society has elevated as a great marker of adulthood.

More on all that when January 8, 2010 actually arrives. For now, I'd just like to scribble (or type) a few notes on my various accomplishments or procrastinations of the past 6 months.

1. Travel to a new place below the Mason Dixon Line (March 14, 2009)
I wrote quite a bit about my trip to New Orleans before and after the experience. Going to the Crescent City made a considerable impact on me in ways that I probably am still discovering and it also crystallized everything from my relationship with an old roommate to an entire semester of graduate studies. All this while nursing a broken heart!

Who knows when I'll have another chance to visit either New Orleans or anywhere else in the South? For now, I'm really glad it was where I kicked off an incredibly busy year of travel since the city's raucous nature and laid back attitude were clearly what I needed to get out of a funk and to tackle my own challenges.

11. Find a synagogue I enjoy for the high holidays
This one's black which means I haven't begun to work on it and if you read my post from Monday you'll have a better understanding as to why. For now it's easy to delay finding a spiritual home in a house of worship because I've already found the local options unsatisfactory and I have no idea where I'm headed geographically. The scary truth is Rosh Hashanah is only 2 1/2 months away and my ability to cross this off my list largely depends on some elements that are out of my control for a little while longer.

14. Make coffee tasty enough for others to drink/enjoy (Feb. 15, 2009)
People who know me are instantly acquainted with my boundless energy and I often remind them that I eschew caffiene for fear of how wired I'd be. I'm fine in the mornings without anything but an orange juice spritzer and food, but others complained of the absence of stronger fuel.

Finally, I bought non-instant coffee and dedicated myself to mastering the French press that had been sitting neglected on the countertops of at least three apartments. It took a few experiments with the water to tablespoons of coffee ratio, but I eventually figured it out. Now I joyfully push down on the filter and even imbibe a cup or two when no one else is home.

19. Earn $100 from Google AdSense ($25 as of late May)
I just checked on my balance today and I'm up to $29.01. It means I need to do some more clicking and so do you! Come on, I'm unemployed. Help a hustler out!

27. Get a new job - back on like Donkey Kong because I got laid off.
30. Master the art of doing nothing (I'm pretty sure this will be the hardest item on the list)
I put these two together from their original "Life" category because the immediacy of one has unmistakably proven just how hard the other will be to ever accomplish. Most people get laid off and take a few weeks to relax, travel or at least sleep in. Not me. I launched a side business within days of getting notice and to date have earned nearly $800.

While I do manage to get 7-8 hours of sleep each night, it's often preceeded by me running around like crazy for 15-16 hours between errands, job applications, coffee dates, blogging, networking events, project for my Concierge Service business, working out, gardening, dancing, cooking, eating...you get the picture.

There are times I toy with the idea of simply putting #30 out of my mind and just embracing my frenetic nature for what it is. Then I stop long enough to realize how tired I am and recommit. Out of all my endeavors, it is ironically the art of doing nothing that eludes me most and where I need the most help.

Unemployment has helped me learn to prioritize and to allow myself to periodically say no, but it has also given me a host of new responsibilities for which I am accountable to no one but myself. It's freeing and frightening all at the same time. Here's hoping I'm able to overcome both the fear and to eliminate the cause by the time I do turn 30.

Letter to the Editor

2009-07-06T16:53:00.002-04:00

I know I've been terribly remiss about posting lately, and I really do want to write a thorough recounting of my recent adventures in Montreal and new plans to hit Costa Rica next month with some girlfriends. However, I have three job interviews this week and a few clients for my side business, so this will simply have to do.

Here's a letter I wrote to the editor of the New Jersey Jewish News that was actually published in their July 2 edition. Would love to get everyone's feedback on both the original article and my commentary. Cheers!

As I read Johanna Ginsberg's article this week, "Synagogues Make Do in Hard Times," I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps there is a silver lining for our houses of worship in this economic miasma. Just flip through the Community section of the New Jersey Jewish News and you'll see synagogues offering concerts, drumming circles, support groups (including one for overeaters which just strikes me as ironic to take place in a shul) and lectures of all varieties.

While I'm sure the congregations arrange these programs in order to attract potential and current members, one has to ask how it fits into their core missions to create Jewish spaces for the community when so many people in said communities cannot afford to participate. With the suburbanization of the American Jewish population in the 1950s, synagogues morphed from small places to pray with a minyan into seemingly holistic paragons of Jewish life. All your needs - literally from cradle to grave - could me met at the synagogue.

That model certainly worked for some, but the presense of the Havurah movement in the 1960s and today's proliferation of small congregations like Kehillat Hadar on the Upper West Side, indicate that a certain authenticity and closeness may have been missing all along.

Maybe the lesson for synagogues from this economic crisis is to not be afraid of small. To welcome intimacy, closeness and friendliness. Don't be afraid to scale back programs to a bare-bones, but high-caliber and high-touch community of worship. As someone who has shul hopped and has yet to find a spiritual home after three years in this community, I would much rather have an option to join a basic congregation for $100 than to pay $1000 for all the bells and whistles I will likely never use.

Much of the Jewish communal world has been caught up in competition with secular institutions and has forgotten the added value they can potentially bring when they stop trying to be something they are not. As the congregations in the article and others in MetroWest and around the country struggle with declining dues and swirling debts, I hope some will be bold and take this as an opportunity to reimagine what the American synagogue can and should be. Who knows, you may even attract some new members?

Hitting the Snooze on Type A

2009-06-25T22:12:00.004-04:00

The blogosphere is all atwitter with news of celebrity death matches, literally. Apparently, Michael Jackson trumps Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon, but he's the only one with a royalty-inspired moniker so it makes sense.

Rather than feeding into all the hype of a story that was actually broken by TMZ.com (even NPR used it as a source), I'm offering up this little reflection on my continuing life after being laid off from my job. It might not be as scintillating as revelations on child molestation or anal cancer or the Publisher's Clearinghouse sweepstakes, but it's honest.

For the past 25 years, I've created and thrived on routines. In elementary school, I consistently finished my homework by 4:45 and forced myself into a regular bedtime. In college, I developed a steady route between the local bars based on the spots with the best specials. For the past several years, I've carved out Wednesday nights for dance class, Saturday mornings for calling my grandmother and Sunday evenings for cooking.

So you can imagine how shocking it's been that I have made the transition into the vagaries of unemployment with little difficulty. Lest you think my Type A personality completely absent, I do still set an alarm clock every night, only now rather than sticking at 7:05, the dreaded time drifts wildly depending on the previous night's activities or lack thereof.

Whereas I once found tremendous comfort in routine, I now am finding ways to embrace the art of scheduling randomness. My ridiculously outdated PDA has become my constant savior (thanks Dad) and I am quickly becoming an expert on lunch menus and free in-town parking spots. No longer chained to a desk all day, I'm free to hit the grocery store at off-peak hours and I rarely stress being out late on a "school night."

The uncertainty of unemployment does always loom over one's head with its threats of mounting debt, loss of benefits, isolation and feeling like a drain on society. At the same time, it gives you enormous chunks of time to consider wild possibilites like launching a nonprofit consulting firm, writing a book, starting a concierge service business or creating a website devoted to burning Jewish questions.

In the past six weeks, I've given more serious thought to all these endeavors than I probably have for my entire adult life. Being cut off from the demands of a daily job and the soul-crushing frustrations of the daily office grind, absolutely frees your mind into the peaks and valleys of creativity, with all its commensurate pros and cons.

As much as I'm looking forward to getting a regular paycheck again, I'm also extremely curious to see which of my hustler brainstorms will carry over into the next phase. Who knows, maybe Amalgamated Missel Concierge Services will net me thousands or Ask a Heeb (Ask a Jew was taken) will become the Dear Abby of the 21st Century?

And yes, look for the launch of Ask a Heeb in the coming weeks. You can submit questions here or on the Shtetl Fabulous Facebook page.

Ask A Jew

2009-06-20T17:02:00.003-04:00

Originally, I was going to write a post today about my experience going to Monsey, NY for the first time on Wednesday for a friend's wedding. I had jotted down a few notes about how I couldn't decide if the employees in the grocery store stared at me because I had on a blue dress (normally, women wear very muted colors in that ultra-Orthodox enclave), or because my legs were bare below the knee or because I was wearing open-toed shoes with red polish common among harlots.

I also thought about opining on the women who power walked at 10 p.m. wearing snoods, dress skirts and sneakers while chatting in Yiddish. Or the yeshiva bochur (15-year-old kid) who claimed he'd never heard of I-287 when I tried to ask him for directions. Note: I later found a cop.

All these observations and culture clashes are certainly the stuff pithy blog posts are made for, but then I sat down to my computer this afternoon to find an email from someone I knew in college.
"Question: My husband's cousin is having his bar mitzvah and we can't go. What is the going
rate for $ as a gift. Also, would they have Bar mitzvah cards at Target? Thanks for the info.
Hope you're doing well!"

Or this one I got a few months ago from a high school friend getting married next year.
"I am looking for a little insight regarding Judaism and marriage and rabbis.We are trying to
research options, but could you recommend a rabbi in Phoenix? I would be interested in
learning more about him or her."

These are just the latest examples in a life's vocation I have decided to dub, "Ask a Jew." For better or worse, I seem to have absorbed more Judaic knowledge than many of my peers during my time in various Jewish educational settings. Plus, I tend to shoot from the hip, so people generally figure they're getitng straight-forward and honest information from me.

I'm always flattered when I get these questions, because it makes me feel good that others are comfortable enough to ask me everything from the deeply spiritual to the obscurely ritualistic to the blithely ignorant. It appeals to my inner know-it-all which I've certainly blogged about in the past and my sister has now suggested I pen a Dear Esther column here on Shtetl Fab or in another venue. Perhaps.

Of course, being a hustler as well as a maven, I also wonder how I can make money off this knowledge. One friend suggested (along with a Yiddish-language question) that I could set up a PayPal account and charge by the question. Interesting, but how do you set prices for that sort of thing? Higher cost for harder questions?

If I were smarter all along, I would have started to compile them in one place and then made a book. A nice book promotion tour would be the perfect way to scratch my itchy wanderlust feet. Wherefore art thou Simon and Schuster?

Jack Asks, "Why Be Jewish?"

2009-06-16T14:46:00.001-04:00

My blog-buddy Jack wrote to a bunch of us in his network asking the simple question, "Why Be Jewish?" I, like many others, answered the call and he's compiled our thoughts into this great meta-post.

Whether you're struggling with this quandry or your brain is wrapped around something else entirely, it's pretty interesting.

Check it out here: http://wwwjackbenimble.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-be-jewish.html.

And have fun trying to guess which one is mine!

Courting Sonic

2009-06-13T15:30:00.003-04:00

A local friend of mine recently got a pet hedgehog as a birthday gift. And since having excessive amounts of free time during the day to do things like play with friends' hedgehogs, I cruised over to her house yesterday to check it out.

The animals have been around since ancient times when apparently hedgehogs were considered a source of food in Egypt. Luckily, my friend keeps her hedgehog as a companion rather than a meal so I had a chance to play with him a bit sans fork and knife. (More hedgehog factoids here.)

First impression - he's smaller than I'd expected, fitting neatly in one hand, and his spikes really are sharp if they get you at the right angle. While he does have some personality, he's not quite as spunky as a cat or dog. Put it somewhere in the duller hamster category. I passed on feeding him an earthworm, though I learned hedgehogs can also be fed cat food. Duly noted.

While this particular hedgehog doesn't have any toys, I wondered how he would do in one of those balls we gave to our gerbil back home. Clearly his spikes and overall roundness precluded any of those neat tubes and cage accoutrement available to other small rodents, but he does seem to enjoy climbing in and out of cups and my friend's shirt. Of course, the fact that he rolls up into a little ball with a cute nose barely sticking out is kind of awesome.

After about 10 minutes, I have to admit that the hedgehog's novelty wore off me a bit. Even the fact that he's hypo-allergenic couldn't persuade me to fall in love. He doesn't play catch or do too many tricks like dog, and it's hard to just sit and pet him like you could with a cat or rabbit. Besides, my nurturing level is still at the plant stage and while my tomatoes don't do tricks, they're much easier to eat.

Everybody Dance Now

2009-06-09T14:38:00.002-04:00

This past weekend, I got to celebrate at the wedding of a friend from grad school. We've stayed in touch these past three years and I've met both her fiance and her family on a few occasions. It was a beautiful ceremony and reception, complete with tasty food, lovely flowers and excellent people.

The wedding also included a band instead of the DJ that many people opt for in the interest of savings and variety. It was a great band and included a singer whose Rick Astley-like vocal stylings did justice to Barry White. But there's just something that a band - even those that include horns, drums and multiple singers - can't do. They can't take so many requests and obscure tunes just fall by the wayside.

Since I've been invited to a total of four weddings (and counting) this summer, I think my guest expertise is on the rise. Therefore, I'd like to offer my Top Five wedding tunes in a few select categories - mainly based on their danceability as I believe the goofiness of people dancing at a wedding is worth the cost of the dress, gift, valet parking and everything else combined.

Oldies but Goodies for the Parentals & Family Friends
1. Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations
2. Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond
3. Joy to the World - 3 Dog Night (it's my mom's favorite song)
4. Everybody Needs Somebody to Love - Blues Brothers
5. Shout - Otis Day and the Nights (classic to end all classics)

Rap - New and Old School
1. Bust a Move - Young MC (if you were a teen in the 90s, this is a requirement)
2. Rump Shaker - Wrexx-n-Effex (hey, it's MY wedding!)
3. Hey Ya - OutKast (because most of my guest can't crump with me to Bombs over Baghdad)
4. California Love - 2Pac
5. Yeah - Usher

Dance Music for the Rhythmically Challenged
1. Shook Me All Night Long - AC/DC
2. Don't Stop Believing - Journey
3. Boom - Bloodhound Gang (dedicated to all my Mtn. View Toros!)
4. Tribal Connection - Gogol Bordello
5. Get Up Offa That Thing - James Brown (everyone can dance to him)

Slow Songs - It IS a wedding after all
1. Glycerine - Bush
2. Thank You - Led Zepplin
3. Mivtachat HaShamaim - David Broza
4. In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel
5. All I Want is You - U2

What's your Top Five? Submit your picks in any range of categories on the comments page.

What Passes for a Vacation

2009-06-02T09:20:00.003-04:00

In my new jobless reality, a road trip to DC and Baltimore for a professional development conference and wedding passes for a big vacation. True, the networking opportunities at the conference make it seem a touch like a business trip, but since there's no one to reimburse me (unless I can deduct it from my taxes), it's a vacation.

On the much brighter side, I get a six-day break from the isolation that comes with unemployment. The next several days promise to be jam-packed with coffee and lunch dates, with schmoozing and chatting, and hopefully with ample fun.

Unlike most vacations, I am bringing my laptop this time, so I may even get a chance to blog about my adventures. If not, I will do my best to publish a recap or witty commentary on current events for your reading pleasure.

Have a great week!

Jon and Kate Plus Hate

2009-05-27T08:12:00.000-04:00

Full disclosure: I've never watched the show, but I get the whole premise of an otherwise sane couple mired in a litter of children and the poignant hilarity that follows. It's a prime example of that delicious subgenre of television that makes us all happy to live our lives and not the ones of these pseudo-celebrities. And the latest tabloid escapade to emerge from J&KP8 is that one or both spouses have been unfaithful.

While it should come as little surprise that the overexposure and unearned celebrity a family-based reality show would wreak havoc on said family, I still pity these people for having to endure all this on TV.

I firmly believe that signing up your loved ones for trial by network ratings involves some kind of "you get what you deserve" scrutiny. Making your lack of uterine and fertility drug judgment fodder for pop culture commentary seems especially fit for our desperate need to achieve 15 minutes of fame. But to drag your children into it as well? That's just cruel.

When Jon, Kate and their counterparts on other shows signed up, they were consenting adults. They might not have fully comprehended what they were getting themselves into, but at least they made an informed choice. At the same time, they'd be literally NO WHERE without their oh-so adorable multitude of children who had absolutely no ability to make their own decisions.

Their parents decided for the sake of publicity to exploit the fact they took the birthing option that didn't include selective reduction. Perhaps the failure of their marriage is just an inevitable side effect?

Meanwhile, these children will be thrust into an even greater level of public examination and dissection. If one so much as shoplifts a pack of gum, we will all have to hear about it on Oprah, the Today Show, et. al., ad nauseum.

I don't know the sextuplets' (and I think there's a set of twins) names, but I sincerely hope they are all able to rise about their parents' equally numerous set of bad decisions. You may say I'm a hater or simply an uncaring broad. I say, think about the damn kids before you expose them to the harsh limelight simply by existing, or before you sign a bunch of book deals, oh and before you go and sleep with someone who isn't your spouse. That might be a good idea too.

Digging in the Dirt

2009-05-23T22:31:00.002-04:00

For a while now, I've lamented the one thing lacking in my apartment complex besides central air-conditioning and washer/dryers in each unit. Even though they're "garden" apartments, there aren't places for tenants to grow anything and my window sills are either exposed to ridiculous amounts of sunshine or completely shaded by shrubery.

Ergo, when I saw a flyer at the local yoga studio advertising plots in a community garden for $35 a pop, I literally jumped up and down with excitement. Not only was it affordable, but the garden was located just a mile or two away from my place - super convenient for walks.

I secured a half-size plot and even after being laid off decided to forge ahead, writing off the garden project as a healthy distraction and good for a few blog posts. I dutifully hit Home Depot for a bag of dirt, seeds and a few potted veggies and flowers. I wasn't even deterred by an incredibly shitty neighbor who inexplicably stole my dirt right off my doorstep.

Last Saturday, I made my way over to the garden with my best earth mother frame of mind. With the exception of the guy in the neighboring plot who rudely told me I didn't belong there because I didn't realize the bright pink beans with blue speckles in his garden were NOT jelly beans - everyone else was incredibly nice. The three women organizing the project were very friendly and someone else helped me plant my seeds and design my mulch path. Another woman clearly knew what she was doing and she graciously offered to share her bounty when the time comes. Still another happily admitted her own inexperience and we enjoyed a mutual laugh.

Since my future living situation is completely in question after my extended lease expires at the end of August, I have no idea what the longevity of this foray into gardening will be. I will admit the daily watering trips are a tad annoying. And I'm a little nervous the basil and mint seeds will never sprout.

But in the meantime, I've got two kinds of peppers, squash, marigolds and yellow tomatoes doing their thing and tomorrow I'm planting eggplant and more tomatoes - thanks to leftovers from my aunt and uncle.

Beyond the cheap organic food coming my way, I do have a rewarding distraction from my job hunt and at least one daily obligation/routine in the topsy-turvy world of the unemployed I've recently joined. And I have no doubt my friends will enjoy the panoply of zucchini dishes and pesto that will spew forth from my kitchen come harvest time. Send recipes now!

Life After Lay Off

2009-05-16T17:08:00.003-04:00

Thursday was my last day at work. Though I'd never use a word as strong as "love" to describe my time there, it was my first job after grad school and the job that brought me to New Jersey. Lots of things happened in my life during these past three years, from the death of a grandparent to my brother's college graduation, my father's remarriage and the coming and going of umpteen friends/boyfriends.

Most relevant, I realized that perhaps this job, a position I'd been groomed for during two years of school, internships and informal training, was not a good fit for me and I was often frustrated and unhappy. Now, just two weeks and two days after that fateful day of reckoning, I've learned a few things about life after lay off.

1. I seem to inspire confidence in people. Various colleagues and friends have commented, "Oh, I don't worry about you. You'll be fine and will have a great new job in no time." While it's nice to know they find me capable and more importantly, employable, I do want their concern if for no other reason than the fact that I'm scared shitless.

2. Being unemployed is a little like being pregnant (I imagine). Everyone has an opinion on what you should do and horror stories about their own similar experiences. And no one has any problem telling you exactly what they think about your situation. From the delicately sympathetic, "How are you?" to the audaciously rude, "Ever find a job?" the unemployed have to field a startling number of questions.

3. Brains and ambition do not necessarily confer certainty in one's path in life. Yeah, there are a million jobs I could do, but ask me what I want to do and I'm really not sure. After I finish writing this post, the next item on my to do list is tackling a values clarification exercise that will hopefully help me out.

Somehow, my dream job still hasn't evolved beyond the New York Times Styles Section correspondent position I fantasized about in college journalism classes. When interested parties inquire about what I'd like to do next with my career, I don't truly have a good answer.

It's almost embarrassing for someone who's always prided herself on being unafraid on ambition to suddenly find herself without clear goals in sight. When I moved to Baltimore after college, I knew I'd go to grad school, get a fellowship with a three-year work commitment and continue on the path of professional achievement within the Jewish communal workworld. Seven years later, I am need of a Life-GPS that soothingly utters, "recalculating."

Who knows what this values clarification program will suggest and what the next few months of job hunting will bring my way. Though I am not so lost that I will blindly follow the suggestions of my blog readers, I'm happy to hear what you have to say... as long as it doesn't involve law school.

Washington DC Jewish Music Festival - 6/4-6/11

2009-05-12T16:45:00.001-04:00

Generally, I only use this blog for shameless self-promotion, but since the intern at the Washington DC Jewish Music Fest asked so nicely and her boss is a fellow BHU alumna, I just couldn't say no. Besides, since most of my writing energies have been dedicated to resume revisions of late, it's nice to have an built-in post.

If you're in the DC area in early June, which coincidentally I will be, then be sure to check this out. There are concerts at a range of price points including free!

The 10th Anniversary Washington Jewish Music Festival brings an exciting mix of sound and energy to DC June 4-11. The Festival kicks off with a Pre-Fest Event with Israel’s Ivri Lider on June 2, followed by the official Opening Night on June 4 with the award-winning Andy Statman Trio.

The Festival closes with a bang with Grammy Award winner Miri Ben-Ari: The Hip Hop Violinist. Ben-Ari was listed as one of Jewish Women International's "Ten Women to Watch of 2007."

Other performers include: Pitom, The Sway Machinery, Feinsmith Quartet, Electro Morocco, ShirLaLa and The Kinsey Sicks. There's something for everyone during this festival of live performances, hands-on workshops and cross-cultural dialogues.

Tickets range from free to $35. For tickets: wjmf.org. For information: 202-777-3251 or info@wjmf.org or wjmf.org.

Haveil Havalim Shout Out Redux

2009-05-10T09:42:00.001-04:00

In case you're feeling deprived of bloggy goodness, here's a link to this week's Haveil Havalim. Thanks to Jack for hosting this week and happy birthday!

Possible Haitus

2009-05-05T22:33:00.003-04:00

One of my main goals for this blog has been to keep it from devolving into a diary or simple retelling of the events in my life. Periodically, I make an exception to that rule, like when I have a colossally bad date or fantastically exciting news.

Last week, being laid off from my job of three years in the midst of one of the worst economic crises to hit the globe seemed like a damn good reason to break my own rules again. Now, five days later my quest to find a new job (which, you'll recall from my 30 By 30 list was something I'd put on hold until the economy improved) has completely consumed my life.

Swine flu has come and started to go, we finally got a good HHS Secretary, Bea Arthur and Dom deLuise died and I'm sure someone won some sort of reality show competition without meriting a mere blip on this blog.

Much as I hate the idea of taking an extended break that doesn't involve an airport and a vacation, I think I'm putting enough pressure on myself to network, make phone calls, set up informational interviews, revise my resume, scan the websites, write cover letters, send my resume, re-read my management textbook and periodically break for crying jags about my utter uselessness and failure to have either a man or a job at the age of 29.

Needless to say, I don't need the additional stress of churning out impossibly thoughtful and witty posts at this juncture. I'm not sure what the next few months will bring in any aspect of my life, but I do hope this blog will be a part of it. I may not write a 500 word piece every week, but please keep on checking just in case I come up with something brilliant. And if I go on a colossally bad date, you can definitely count on me to faithfully report it.

Joining the Ranks

2009-04-30T17:25:00.002-04:00

I suppose it happens to everyone at some point in their lives, but honestly I had no clue it would happen to me today. As of May 14, I will officially join the illustrious ranks of the unemployed having been laid off from my job.

I know this is the perfect forum to bash my soon-to-be former employer, but it's hardly my style. Hell, I got dumped and didn't even dish about the guy in this forum.

What I will do is use the extolled power of the Internet to network my ass off. I doubt I'll actually post my resume on the blog, but I do hope to use my resources as wisely as humanly possible (hey, I wasn't a Girl Scout for nothing).

So if you know of job opportunities in the nonprofit, government or corporate sectors I am extremely organized, I write well, I have experience in fundraising, event planning and foundations. I am most interested in project management as where I really excel is in getting things done. In the future, I think I would make a fantastic Chief Operating Officer.

Please contact me offline at rmmissel@gmail.com.

Whose Soul Food is This?

2009-04-26T21:50:00.006-04:00

Last night I had the opportunity to help bust a friend's Indian food cherry at an excellent vegetarian place in the Desi community capital of Iselin, New Jersey. The explanations another friend and I offered to our neophyte - pakora is (sort of like Indian tempura), a dosa (crepe-like Indian burrito with potatoes) and paneer (it's like tofu and cheese had a baby) - attracted the attention of other restaurant goers and even got some smiling nods of approval.

My sense of Indian restaurant street cred soundly in tact and a supremely delicious mango lassi dancing down my esophagus, I pondered what it was about Indian food that I loved so much. Many people revel in it for the heat, others for the vast array of spices and flavors and I'm sure nostalgia plays a significant role for subcontinent natives and their descendents. But I've begun to think that for me, Indian cuisine represents something else entirely - it's my soul food.

Sure, there's the simple beauty of fried chicken, cornbread, greens, macaroni and cheese and those other standards we in the United States have come to acquaint with soul food. But I keep kosher and Southern food wasn't exactly created with a pork-free or vegetarian diet in mind. Other global cuisines can get a little heavy-handed with the treif. Whereas jumbalaya, rodizo and coq au vin, arguably pivotal and central dishes of Cajun, Brazilian and French cooking immediately form obstacles, Indian food and meatless go together like idli and sambar.

Right away, Indian scores in the accessibility department. Then there's pricing. Aside from a very snooty place in my town that charges $7 for a dish of basmati rice, most Indian food comes with a small price tag and big portions. Case in point, last night's considerable feast cost only $20/person and there were ample leftovers.

Everything I've described about Indian food so far could also be said about Chinese and several other culinary traditions that include a sizable Buddhist population. Beyond price, flavorfulness and lots of vegetarian choices, I believe my connection to this cuisine goes a little deeper. First, I think it's the inherently rustic nature of Indian food. You know this is food that real people eat in their homes on a daily basis. Plus, it includes lots of carbs and those are always comforting.

Though I grew up in a mildly-spiced home, owing to my mother's gastrointestinal woes, I spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen of my best friend, whose family is South Indian (Telegu for those in the know) and I was something of the white person guinea pig at dinner time. My friend's mother would always insist on feeding me, even despite my protests of having just eaten at my own house. I still wouldn't know how to order all the dishes I enjoyed around the Myneni family table, but I loved nearly all of them. Maybe those years of high school left an indelible mark on my palate or at least singed a few taste buds into craving more.

My more scientifically-knowledgable readers can perhaps offer insight into why some people crave one flavor profile while others loath it. Until then, all I know is that chaat (a snack of fried dough covered with chickpeas, yogurt, tamarind sauce, small crispy noodles, onions, coriander and spices) gets my mouth watering even as I write the description and other people are probably looking for a bucket. This strange concoction served on the streets of Mumbai and Hyderabad makes much more sense to me than the offerings of New Brunswick's grease trucks or the disco fries that appear at many a diner.

What does it say about me to love Indian food the way I do and what might it say about another who feels the same connection with Jell-O? Does every soul have a soul food? What's yours?

Pulitzers for Everyone!

2009-04-21T21:46:00.002-04:00

OK, so not for everyone but one for my friend Ryan. You may remember him from a post I wrote a few months back when he won a Polk Award. Well now he's clearly outdone himself and scored a fucking Pulitzer.

When most of the news in the journalism world has been gloomier than a General Motors quarterly accounting report, it's indescribable to know my former editor and roommate Ryan Gabrielson is now a Pulitzer-prize winner for his outstanding work on Reasonable Doubt.

From the Pulitzer site:
Awarded to Ryan Gabrielson and Paul Giblin of the East Valley Tribune, Mesa, Ariz., for their adroit use of limited resources to reveal, in print and online, how a popular sheriff’s focus on immigration enforcement endangered investigation of violent crime and other aspects of public safety.

There's a ton of great press about it, but here's a piece from my local NPR Station (WNYC). You can listen or read.

The Takeaway story touches on it, but what's really fascinating and yet incredibly sad about the backstory is that the reporter who worked with Ryan on this piece was laid off from the East Valley Tribune in January. Massive newsroom liquidations have become incredibly common across the nation with the devaluation of quality journalism, and this piece from Heat City does a great job putting in into perspective.

While it seems like my own blogger prize and ultimate writer's validation is still a ways off, I will continue to bask in Ryan's reflective glow... and relish those excellently embarrassing photos that much more.

Off the Derech Mormon

2009-04-19T20:54:00.005-04:00

For those who didn't grow up in the greater Phoenix metropolitan area, your entire conception of the Valley of the Sun may be limited to images of saguaro cactus, mind-melting summertime temperatures and a few Kurt Warner stats. There are a few others who've spent enough time in the area to have sampled our excellent Mexican food and those who've experienced the best golf courses Scottsdale has to offer. Usually, that's about all people know.

But if you go past the touristy parts of town and get to where real people spend their daily lives, then you're likely to run into Mesa, the state's third-largest city that was founded by Mormon settlers in the 1870s. Today the city of 500,000 is home to several hundred wards, stake centers, seminaries and other markers of the faith. There are churches where all the proceedings take place in Spanish and others designated for singles (which is actually a fantastic idea I wish the Jews would co-opt).

What there isn't often is a place within the Mormon fold for people who grew up in the religious ranks but who don't feel the strictest interpretations are the best fit for them. In the Jewish world, we call people who grow up "Orthodox," or "frum," or "traditional," or "fundamentalist," as being "off the derech," literally "off the path," when they leave behind their sometimes secluded life for something more liberal.

Luckily, the Jewish observance spectrum is profoundly broad and diverse and many of these people find a place for themselves that feels comfortable. It may mean wearing a kippah instead of a black hat or pants instead of skirts. It may also mean eating different foods, working different jobs or working different days altogether. What matters most for the purposes of this discussion is that no matter what, they are always Jews. They may be Reform, Conservative, post-denominational or just plain Jewish, but they are still Jews.

Short disclaimer: I am by no means an expert in the Mormon faith so please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong here. However, it's been my understanding from several young people who have felt their religious, political and theological ideas fall outside the norms of the LDS Church - that there is often little or no place for dissention, new interpretation and ritual selectivity. Put in layman's (or Heidi Klum's) terms, you are either in or you're out.

While some people can reconcile Saturday night beers or Sunday afternoon coffee (alcohol and caffeine are strictly verboten and Sundays are circumscribed as family time in the Mormon religion), with being a member of the Church, others sadly cannot. And sometimes the issue at hand is much bigger than a choice of beverage. Rather, it's about being homosexual or (gasp!) a Democrat. For some this means isolation, confusion, strained relationships with families and/or friends and even addiction.

Of course, the Jewish community knows all too well that addictions to drugs and alcohol often afflict those navigating the challenges of leaving the Orthodox world, and I'm sure it can happen to very observant Muslims, Protestants and Catholics too. Where the rub comes in for Mormons is that often the Church seeks to distance these people from the rest of the flock. Those not found in good standing are barred from certain ceremonies and the inner sanctum of the Temple becomes off-limits even for special occasions like a family member's wedding.

During my trip home to Mesa last week, I had a chance to reconnect with some high school friends who grew up LDS and who now struggle to live as they want but still go to church when they choose. It hurt me to see these young men (they happened to all be male) chafing against the fundamentalism but still desperate to be a part of the faithful.

We pondered what would come first - a woman president or a more liberal branch of the Church? Would we live to see a form of Mormonism that embraced critical questioning, progressive politics, women's leadership and lenient rules about caffeine/alcohol/sex? We had no answers.

For whatever its worth to new Church President Thomas S. Monson or anyone else out there, I hope more faith traditions take on the challenge of modernity and find a way to harmonize today's realities with yesterday's beliefs. Though I don't think Mormonism would work for me, I know many, many people who have found a spiritual, behavioral and moral guidance in the Church and that's really all any of us can ask for from any religion.

We're up to 213, but who's counting?

2009-04-19T16:00:00.003-04:00

I can't promise I will always manage to link the Haveil Havalim of others back to this blog, but it's worth a shot. And since I hosted just a week ago, I feel it's good karma.

So here you go, courtesy of The Real Shliach.

Also, if you know of other great blog carnivals out there, please let me know! Finding new and wonderful places to promote Shtetl Fabulous can only help me reach my goal of world domination... or something like that.

If the rest of my evening is relatively uneventful, I'll try to eke out one more post before the end of my furloughcation. If you don't see something, it's because I've managed to hurt myself again in some ridiculous yoga accident.

Coincidence

2009-04-15T22:02:00.008-04:00

With the mixed blessing of a 10-day furlough from my job, I decided to spend a considerable chunk of my time off traveling. Two major airports, several trains and a few subway rides later, I got to wondering about chance encounters.

I'm not just talking about the semi-creepy classifieds on Craigslist, where people try in vain to find that guy or girl who sipped an extra foamy latte in the Mount Washington Starbucks on October 14. I'm much more interested in the people you sit next to on airplanes, who get a haircut at the adjacent station, who you share an eye roll with while waiting at the ATM. What keeps some of them limited to that brief smirky smile while others are catapulted into full-blown conversations or even real connections?

Full disclosure: I am the queen of the chance encounter. I have turned fellow line-standers into boyfriends (we were both buying flowers at Whole Foods en route to Passover seders) and have parlayed regular holiday meal coverage out of a women who was getting a pedicure as my nails dried. More than just my gift of gab writ large, I am confident there was some reason for why these otherwise mundane interactions became more meaningful and durable (though in the case of the boyfriend, I'm not sure how meaningful it was).

Fate and chaos theory seem generally at odds. One grants control of all human events to a higher power and the other denies any order but disorder itself. But in the case of shifting from total strangers to two people with a great "how we met" story, they both play a role. So too does that pernicious but undeniable force called timing. And its timing I believe in more than the hand of some invisible, manipulative god or a completely random universe. How else to explain the luck of sitting next to some great person during a long train ride? If either of you had been much earlier or later, you would have been stuck sitting next to that weird lady wearing a Santa Claus letter in April or, worse yet, not even sitting in the same car at all.

Powerful timing came into my life this past week, when a collection of high school classmates, long ago cast out of my mind, randomly appeared at the same bar as me on Saturday night. OK, they were actually there to meet one of my girlfriends who I knew to expect at that location, but you gotta admit the impromptu reunion factor is pretty random. Besides, timing played a big role in one particular alum and me hitting it off quite nicely.

I met my best friend from college at orientation and we connected instantly. Freshman year she lived off campus and we didn't see each other again until we both lived in the same 800-student dorm sophomore year. We crossed paths in the lobby while getting our mail and from then on we became incredibly close. Would that ever have happened had either of us gone to another orientation session or chosen to live elsewhere?

More than anything, I want to understand what was the glue that held that bond together and why was it so absent earlier today as I worked on this post, waiting for a delayed flight? Or all the other times in my life as I went through life anonymously. I don't really have the answer. But what I do know is when it happens, you have to jump on board the fate train because the trip is often as fun as the destination.

Haveil Havalim #212: How Many Days til We Can Eat Bread?

2009-04-12T14:49:00.006-04:00

Welcome everyone to my first attempt at hosting that grand institution of the Jewish blogosphere, the Haveil Havalim! Some of my readers (particularly the non-Jewish ones) may be scratching their heads wondering what that all means. Well, luckily the originators of this Semitic smorgasbord have given me a handy little description.

Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a carnival of Jewish blogs -- a weekly collection of Jewish & Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It's hosted by different bloggers each week and coordinated by Jack. The term 'Haveil Havalim,' which means "Vanity of Vanities," is from Kohelet, (Ecclesiastes) which was written by King Solomon. King Solomon built the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and later on got all bogged down in materialism and other 'excesses' and realized that it was nothing but 'hevel,' or in English, 'vanity.'

So there you have it. And while I can't offer pretty graphics and wittily-coordinated photos for you this week, I can promise my fellow writers that I will pimp your selected post to the best of my abilities. And for everyone else, please enjoy the diverse range of articles that only a blog carnival can provide. Oh, and everyone help us help bloggers and publicize this endeavor on your own blog, Twitter, Facebook status, smoke signal business, what have you.

PESACH
Originally, this subheading started as the Humor section. Then I noticed that all the pieces had a Pesach theme running through them, because what could be funnier than enslavement folllowed by 40 years of half-starved wandering in the desert? After all, Mel Brooks said, "Look at Jewish history. Unrelieved lamenting would be intolerable. So, for every ten Jews beating their breasts, God designated one to be crazy and amuse the breast-beaters." Sage wisdom. Now, on with the show!

In one of my favorite posts of the whole carnival, Esser Agaroth teases his Pesach zealot friend with some classic Cleaning for Pesach shtick. As a bean/rice eating Ashkenaz, this was very much up my alley. On a less humorous than slightly pyromaniacal bend, Harry of Israelity tells his own tales of lighting bread products on fire with Burn Baby Burn.

We only get to say birkat hachamah every 28 years, so why not devote a post to it? Direct from Israel comes Batya's ray of light from the united Shiloh group. You're also invited to spend Passover there. And who doesn't love Good News from Israel? Jacob sure does and he's shared pictures from his own sun salutations.

Sometimes we can get bogged down into the mundane details of Pesach preparations. But Manely Montana brings us the Zen and encourages us to look inside for the real meaning of the holiday with Enough Already, Dayeinu. We made it past the sederim, but just to help us get ready for next year, Paul Kipnes writes a little Seder Redux: Deal or No Deal, Where's Your Egypt? Game, What Doesn't Belong on the Seder Table, Progressive Seder posted at Or Am I?.

What's a blog carnival if not a forum for shameless self-promotion. With that, I sneak in my (Shtetl Fabulous's) own seder experiences across the nation with Dispatches from a Wandering Jew.

Muse gives us a few Pesach-themed pieces... first, It Takes More Than Matzah Balls... posted at Shiloh Musings and then she thinks about those Chol HaMoed, In Between Days posted at me-ander. Who doesn't love a little entertainment with his/her typographical errors? Clearly A Time of the Signs finds it all too easy.

CHAMETZ (aka miscellaneous and Jewish-themed)
Haveil Havalim stalwart The Rebbetzin's Husband writes about the Arba Banim (four children) we discuss at the Pesach seder, but it's the only non-humor based Pesach piece, so I stuck it in this category. He also makes the point that the strength and predicted longevity (quality is his term) of the Orthodox community cannot be determined by its quantity. Denomination is a thorny issue for me, so I'll stay out of this discussion in my polite hostess role.

It's more personal than Jewish, but barring a separate personal category, this seemed like just as good a place as any for What War Zone's pre-Romanian holiday getaway opus, giving us his state of the blog address/inaugural mailbag. It comes complete with the pictures and adorable children singing in videos that I am simply not HTML savvy enough to include. Worth a read.

Even though the book came out some time ago, Abigail Pogrebin's ode to celebrity Jews, Stars of David offers some good Pesach lessons according to Yeshivish Harry. In case you had any doubts about his claims on the title, The Real Shliach packs a wallop with On the 11th Day. Paul Kipnes presents Their Top 50 Rabbis List: Not as Statistically Accurate or Methodologically Sound as mine! posted at Or Am I?, saying, "One rabbi's humorous take on letting three people determine the hottest rabbis in America."

A Mother In Israel reflects on how even 60 years later, the issues surrounding Ukrainians and the Holocaust still have an impact on our lives. Batya is a busy girl. First at Shiloh Musings she brings us an alarming article about Jewish stereotypes infecting the Quizzes at Facebook . Then she turns all sweet with a few pictures capturing the season in Naturally Spring. On Israelity, Harry turns a little artistic with a certain collection of Images of Israel that are traveling across China right now.

Should there be "space" within Modern Orthodoxy for women to create meaningful prayer groups of their own? I adamantly say yes, but Shira of On the Fringe grapples with the issue much more eloquently and offers a survey for Orthodox Jews.

ISRAEL/POLITICS
Just in time for this season of redemption, Beneath the Wings relates this touching story about The Arab Bus Driver in her town. Smart growth isn't just for American cities, says Tel-Chai Nation with his report on a UK Times article about "new towns in Israel." Mrs. S. presents Thoughts on one day of yom tov posted at Our Shiputzim: A Work In Progress, saying, "Mo'adim l'simchah, and thanks for doing this!"

Maya posted the latest Israeli ad campaign to merge Pesach and the gym at The Four Sons (and the Four Questions) Make Great Ads! And Benji Lovitt presents How Many Things are Wrong With This Picture? (Or Just Disturbing Actually) posted at What War Zone???.

Yisrael Medad of the Jerusalem Post sent along a mini-carnival of his own. He's following the money beyond the Green Zone with Green-Line Greenbacks, watching it all unravel with Indian Textiles and reflecting sun-gazing in April 1981 at Where Were You 28 Years Ago. Joel Katz gives us a review of media coverage on issues of religion and state in Israel with the caveat that his blog is not affiliated with any organization or movement: Religion and State in Israel - April 6, 2009 (Section 1) and Religion and State in Israel - April 6, 2009 (Section 2).

Finally, Maya made aliyah a year ago and she posts her reflections on her first 365 days as an Israeli at Not so "chadasha" anymore...

JTA FALLOUT
In case you missed it last week, the Jewish Telegraphic Agency (JTA), sent out an email to all its subscribers asking for donations and denigrating the entire universe of bloggers as "non-journalists" who are at the source of traditional newspapers' recent failures. Now, while the increasingly diverse realm of news sources hasn't helped news organizations find a more successful business model, I find it incredibly hard to believe it's all the fault of bloggers. Naturally, many of our fellow bloggers took a crack at responding to the JTA's inane and fearmongering assertions. And thanks to Ima on the Bima, I'm able to offer you a mini roundup of what went down.

Leah Jones at Accidentally Jewish reprints the article, so I figured it was a good place to start. My girl who always seems to be on the opposite side of the country from me, Esther K, works her formidable wordsmithing magic with a great Urban Kvetch response. Dan Brown with EJewish Philanthropy also offers a good overview on the issue and puts it into great context with the whole Nefesh B'Nefesh Jewish Bloggers Conference. CK at Jewlicious throws in its two cents and asks you to contribute to our collective "nonprofessional" work. Steven I. Weiss with The Jewish Channel, points out the utter hypocrisy of the whole episode, what with JTA producing (minimally-read) blogs of its own. As an aside, The Jewish Channel is an incredibly comprehensive blog that's new to me and pretty darn cool. I'd spend more time checking it out if this post didn't have a deadline. The New Jew, aka Maya Norton, puts this whole balagan into focus with a really thoughtful and well-researched piece about, conveniently enough, crisis-mode functionality. She also includes a directory of other posts on the topic. And finally, the JTA offers its mea culpa ... albeit from one of their writers and not from board president Elisa Spungen Bildner who authored the original email.

Personally, I think what we do as bloggers IS important and valid and offers tremendous value. At the same time, it breaks my heart to hear about newspapers folding and close friends losing their reporting jobs. Journalism is integral to a free society and we should do what we can to advance the cause of truth-seeking and information-disseminating. Has the field lost its way in the past years as the bottom line has canceled out integrity and hard work? In parts. Has the mainstream newspaper world failed to develop a viable and profitable business model? Sadly, yes. Is that a reason for all-out civil war? Absolutely not.

I have my own ideas about how we can save journalism and inexpensive subscription services may not be an entirely bad idea. But in the end, the best course of action is to keep on blogging quality material and let history judge.

FIN
Phew! Thanks for reading all the way through or at least skimming until this point where you saw the end.

Chag Sameakh and Happy Easter to everyone. Don't forget to buy some half-price Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs tomorrow to save for Thursday. And if you're in NYC on Thursday and want to celebrate with me over a beer - post a comment!

Official HH Closing: That concludes this edition. Submit your blog article to the next edition of Haveil Havalim using our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page. Technorati tags: haveil havalim, blog carnival.

Dispatches from a Wandering Jew

2009-04-07T20:58:00.009-04:00

My dear friend Maris has a tattoo (spelled correctly in Gaelic, I hope) that reads, "Not all who wander are lost." While she's not Jewish, her ink certainly resonates with many Jews who live a little retro and decided not to leave that 40 years in the desert to the annals of history.

I've lived away from my immediate family for the past seven years and though I've spent a few of those Pesach seders in my hometown, many more have been enjoyed in the homes of families and friends who opened their doors to a wanderer like me. It's only fitting as the seders of my childhood routinely included newcomers, single parents and people I'm convinced my father picked up off the street. Aside from truly excellent matzah ball soup and the special Lenox china, our festive meals had few diehard customs.

However, in these years of being a Pesach guest, I've had the opportunity to experience a wide array of other families' traditions. There was the ex-boyfriend whose seder I missed, not least because he and his brother insisted their grandmother's matzah ball soup recipe included regular noodles. I even bought a box of ridiculously expensive kosher for Passover noodles to use instead but the shit hit the fan on that seder regardless.

What about the Israeli-dominated seder where half the guests were expected to read their parts in perfectly-accented Hebrew? Or the times I was the only non-family member sitting around the table, looking puzzled when reminiscing overcame the conversation? My more favorite seder was the one that began with me picking up a really cute guy at the Whole Foods checkout when we were both buying seder flowers.

Of course, nothing takes the Mrs. Manischewitz cake like the year I went to my ultra-Orthodox cousins' house for my first seder in Baltimore. First off, it didn't start until 9 p.m. which was completely foreign to me who had heretofore only been to seders that ended by around 9:30-10. Then there was the revelation that the entire family would conduct the seder and speak only in modern Hebrew or English rather than their regular custom of Yiddish. Nice break for me.

Incredibly hungry and shocked that we still hadn't eaten around 11:45, I relished the moment we got the OK to eat the handmade shmura matzah. [For the non-Jews, shmura matzah is "watched" throughout the manufacturing process to ensure it comes into contact with no liquid until absolutely necessary and for no more than 18 minutes when it is necessary. It's handmade and has an even more cardboard like taste than the square matzah you usually encounter. Oh, and it costs 4-5 times as much.] Then I realized that no one is permitted to speak or ingest liquids until they choke down his/her entire portion. Awkward.

This seder was also my first encounter with the "non-gebrokts," which is an Ashkenazi Hasidic custom that forbids the combination of any matzah or matzah derivative with any liquid substance. Meaning, no matzah ball soup, one of my favorite Pesach foods.

The fun continued literally until 3:30 a.m. when I discretely stepped away from the table in the middle of Hallel (yes, it comes toward the end). It was yet another part of the seder my family conveniently skipped back home. We usually just went from talking to eating to singing an off-key rendition of Chad Gad-Ya. Looking back, I chalk up the whole evening to a cultural experience, not unlike the time I attended a Kwanzaa celebration or went to a Vietnamese/Chinese wedding.

Much as I have loved all this guest-ing, I do miss my college days where I hosted an annual seder for all my friends. Whether I had all the space of my off-campus home kitchen or had to borrow an illegal dorm refrigerator, I welcomed at least 10-12 people to enjoy my spiced charoset or my dense-on-the-inside-but-fluffy-on-the-outside matzah balls.

Hopefully the coming years will bring me an opportunity to cook and host more seders of my own. As for this year, I will be the guest one night at an Iranian family's home and the second night I will be one of 60 celebrating at a synagogue seder complete with assigned discussion questions and organized food shlepping. If nothing else, it will all make a great post for Pesach next year.

Happy Passover - Chag Kasher V'Sameakh to all!

Spring Has Sprung Weekend Roundup

2009-04-05T15:40:00.006-04:00

There isn't much in my life I do half-assed... except maybe this blog sometimes. So it should come as no great surprise that with my new found single status, I have thrown myself into the social fray of late. From a 350-person mixer to NCAA watch parties, I have kept remarkably busy and I debated whether to focus today's post on any one activity or just to throw it all against the wall and see what sticks. Luckily for most of us (I hope), I've chosen the latter.

In the zeal of trying new things that often comes with a suddenly open weekend schedule, I signed up for a hot power vinyasa yoga class on Friday night that featured Motown music and promises of a post-class bar outing. My mat, towel, change of clothes and friend Mike in tow, we ventured to Garden State Yoga in Bloomfield. According to the studio's site, by heating the room to 90 degrees, "the integration of sweat, strength and spirit detoxifies and rejuvenates the body."

I'm not sure what spirit I brought to the class, but I do know I brought the sweat. Did you ever know your shins can sweat quite a bit when working out in a 90-degree room for 75 minutes? Somehow, in 16 years of living in Arizona, this never came up. Did you also know that it's really hard to rock out to Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours," when you're in extended side angle pose?

After class and an awkward post-shower run-in with my friend, we ventured out to the aforementioned bar to schmooze with our fellow yogis. The supposed coordinators stood us up, but a few others ventured out and we enjoyed a lovely dinner with total strangers. Plus, we scored coupons to a deli in Denville. Gotta check that out sometime.

Saturday was one of those days where certain friends of mine would both marvel at and pity the amount of work I did. I woke up around 8:45, made a huge batch of pancakes (gotta eat up the mix before Passover starts), cleaned the kitchen and even scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees. After hitting up the library and bank, I bought groceries and came home to do laundry and clean the bathroom. I whipped up a huge pot of soup, cleaned the bathroom and got myself together in enough time to meet friends for drinks. Oh, and somewhere in there I discovered that I now get the Style Network and I watched a whole lot of that reality show about wedding planners. Argh, such a geek!

Today, I got a little deeper into the Passover mood by volunteering to deliver food packages to indigent or homebound elderly. It wasn't quite the opportunity for socialization with fellow volunteers I'd expected, but it was really affirming to know I can do a little good for the world and brighten someone's day in just a few hours.

Also, much to the delight of everyone in the Northeast, it seems Spring has arrived! It always seems to take forever, especially for people like me who didn't grow up with seasons. Yet it is always worth the wait when you take that first walk around town (like I did for an hour today) and see all the trees with new leaves and the tulips starting to emerge with pretty colors. Until you start sneezing uncontrollably. Curmudgeonly as that last statement sounds, I really do relish the idea of spring and I appreciate the entire seasonal concept so much more now that I live in a place that has them.

Before I sign out, just a few news items.
1. I am going to attempt a Pesach-related post sometime in the coming days. Be on the lookout if you're into that sort of thing.

2. Next week, I'm hosting the Haveil Havalim Jewish Blogger Carnival. If you want to be a part of it, please submit your posts to me via email. Also, if you can offer technical assistance, I will love you forever... or at least a few extra unpaid weeks.

3. One of my favorite bands, Gogol Bordello, is playing this summer at the All Points West festival in Liberty State Park, NJ. If anyone is interesting in seeing them or the other vast assortment of bands, let me know. I'd even be down for sharing an all-weekend pass. Check out the line up.

Tatu Tattoo

2009-03-30T20:14:00.003-04:00

I happened to be killing time in New York City yesterday (aforementioned flight delays), so I decided to get a manicure. Whilst soaking my digits, I noticed the girl sitting next to me had a small tattoo written in Hebrew letters on her foot. My Hebrew reading skills are pretty decent, but I was having a little trouble making it out.

It seemed like perhaps a letter was missing from the end. For all you Hebrew readers out there, the tattoo read "Chaf, Lamed, Het, Yud Yud." In my mind, she was either trying to say "every life" and forgot a Mem Sofit OR she randomly added a Yud. Either way, I figured it merited a question.

Casually, I asked her what her tattoo meant and she confirmed her intention was for it to read "all life," or "every life." No clue what profound intention was bundled up in her foible, but I decided not to press the matter further. Instead, I decided to turn her incredibly stupid decision and apparent failure in Hebrew school into a blog post because that is more fun for everybody! (Except her and a buddy from college who also had a botched Hebrew verb on his neck a la Britney Spears.)

My Google search on "misspelled tattoos" revealed that this is hardly uncharted blogger territory. One guy had a whole photo gallery of evidence that it doesn't take a PhD in English to become a tattoo artist. And though Snopes.com confirmed that the urban legend of Andy Sakai who emblazoned wannabe college students with Japanese symbols for "small penis" instead of "warrior," was truly a myth, my mani-pedi-mate can hardly be the only idiot.

UCLA's Language Department devoted an article to the items that get lost in translation on someone's body. From Kanji symbols for "English" instead of tranquility and Chinese characters spelling "supermarket" instead of a loved one's name, the possibilities for fuck ups are endless.

And the frustration/humiliation over misspelled tattoos is foreign languages is apparently not limited to the eye of the beholder. Artists also despise them as demonstrated in this pretty hilarous post, and they figure the human canvas is responsible for the research and verification of authenticity. Determining poseur status remains on a case-by-case basis.

To all my readers with foreign words and characters permanently inked onto their bodies, I would really love your feedback on the whole issue. How did you verify your tattoo? Do you speak the language? If not, how did you know it was "kosher?" Why a foreign language and not English?

To everyone else, please feel free to share your needle-and-ink-driven tales!

Hooray for Blog Carnivals

2009-03-29T12:25:00.002-04:00

Check out the latest Haveil Havalim here - thanks Jack for putting it together!

Sincere apologies for the lack of scintillating posts of late. Luckily, I still have a job and it's keeping me rather busy. I had planned for a good post tonight after some family time, but due to aggravation from severe flight delays that are keeping my brother in DC for an extra 4 hours, my creativity has waned.

Hopefully, tomorrow will bring some fabulous ideas that I can finagle for your reading pleasure.

The Importance of Being Endearing

2009-03-23T20:40:00.008-04:00

One of my earliest memories is of going with my parents to the Alisan Chinese Restaurant in Anaheim, California. I exclusively ordered the cashew chicken (or moon nuts in my three-year-old vocabulary) and it's where I learned to eat with chopsticks.

My family left Southern California in the mid-1980s along with so many others in the aerospace industry and we moved to McDonnell Douglas's new headquarters in Mesa, Arizona. I recall my mother's horror at the local grocery store's posters proclaiming the Grand Canyon State's liberal gun carrying policies and her frustration at the culinary wasteland, which was seemingly devoid of good Chinese food.

After futile attempts at Sampan and Autumn Moon, my father happened upon China Palace. Tucked into a strip mall like so many dining establishments in the Valley of the Sun, China Palace was located close to his office and not too far from our house. It wasn't long before we became regulars and Sunday dinners could only mean one stereotypical option - Chinese take out.

As frequent patrons, we began to befriend the owners, Dick and Katie, and soon found ourselves invited to private celebrations on Chinese New Year and Christmas (natch). They'd serve authentic Chinese food to their families and special invitees, including my family. It was the first time I'd seen head-on prawns and I recall my brother gaining significant entertainment from the eyes. We'd scored fans and fancy calendars decorated with scenic vistas and birds and somewhere along the way I learned the importance of being endearing to proprietors.

Here in my new suburban New Jersey town, I've made the acquaintance of a few bartenders, shopkeepers and business owners, but I'm really only at full endearment status with one. Raul of Raul's Empanada Town and I were instant amigos. I bring legions of new or soon to be loyalists to his place and he helps me with my Spanish. The zenith of my quest to be utterly considered a "regular" came when Raul willinging gave me a free t-shirt. Now I strut the streets proudly advertising like so many Armani Exchange shoppers.

But it's not limited to me. One friend has a long-standing relationship with his local Indian restaurant that's included gifts of tapestries featuring an amorous Indian couple. My co-worker can work miracles at the local deli, though I've never seen her score any swag.

I wonder, what is it about some people that particularly endears them to a certain restaurant owner? Is it mere frequence of appearances or does enthusiasm in recruiting others play a role? Can one "double dip" and be adored by two establishments? At the same time? In the same city?

Personally, I think creating a wide network of proprietors who brighten at the sight of my face (or my AmEx card) is a worthwhile endeavor in this age of big box stores and impersonal business interactions. Maybe if we all reach out and cultivate relationships with one or two mom and pop stores then the world could be a better place. Or maybe we'd all just eat better.

Keep on Trying Til I Reach the Higher Ground

2009-03-18T21:54:00.004-04:00

Admittedly, it's been 28 hours and I'm still in deep recovery mode from my trip to New Orleans. I won't even attempt to recount all my adventures, insights and Abita-fueled escapades in this forum. If you want juicy details about the bouncer who willingly plied me with shots of Patron or tales of extreme bar hopping, you know where to find me. For the purposes of Shtetl Fabulous-ness, I wanted to focus on some of my perceptions and impressions of the Crescent City.

If you have never been to New Orleans, go. Go now. Just as the media reported, the French Quarter and Central Business Districts escaped the storm's major wrath and you will see very little evidence of Katrina in the downtown areas. I highly recommend the Doubletree Hotel on Canal Street between Peters and Tchopitoulas (hope I spelled it right!). Great location, reasonable price and close to both the streetcar and Harrah's Casino.

What sets New Orleans apart from any other American city and what makes it so incredibly compelling is the culture. Nowhere else in the US can you experience a fully-developed local cuisine. While most of the Creole and Cajun specialities fell outside the bounds of kashrut, the essential flavors and spices carry through even without the pork sausage or shrimp. And if you do eat those things, then NOLA is a foodie's paradise on par with New York and other cities five times its size. And those beignets from Cafe duMonde do live up to the hype. Just skip the always long sit-down line and jump into the shorter queue in the back. You may even be able to flag down a tip-hungry waiter who will bring you your order to go.

Luckily music has fewer boundaries and the traditions of jazz and zydeco flow out of nearly every club and permeate your eardrums with their soulfulness. On one afternoon, my cousin and I strolled down Bourbon Street and heard the fascinating sound of a guy playing a washboard. The instrument covered his entire torso like a shield and he put his entire body into playing. A few days later, I heard classical jazz from an astoundingly fast trumpeter and a perfect rendition of the blues come from an wizened man on the harmonica. And where else in America can you walk down the street and randomly bump into an eight college-age guys in a jazz band?

Of course, all of these wonderful sounds, smells and tastes exist against the backdrop of the costliest natural disaster in our nation's history. After Hurricane Katrina hit, 80 percent of the city was under water and 120,000 residents still have not returned. On our tour of the Lower Ninth Ward and St. Bernards Parish, we saw abandoned shopping centers, dilapidated houses still tattooed with spray painted Xs and water lines.

Our guides told us that every green patch dotted with slabs of cement was once a home. I couldn't help but think of what would happen if the areas around the levees were allowed to revert to marshy swampland. How would the environment change? Would it be for the better? Would these newly rebuilt levees and houses be protected from the next storm?

As we drove through the Holy Cross section of the Lower Ninth, we saw kids playing on the porches of rebuilt homes. Again, I wondered what it must be like for them to grow up as tourist attractions? We clearly were not the first bus to roll through their streets and I hope we are not the last because I think it's really important for all of us to understand what happened in NOLA and to work to keep it from happening again.

Time and time again during my trip, people asked what we could do to help. Our entire group of 550 young adults spent a day volunteering at a former high school that spent two months under 12 feet of water after the storm. It was such a big deal we made it on the local news.

I don't want my experience to exist in a vacuum, so I hope hearing my stories will inspire you to take action. Here are some sites you can check out to learn more, give of your time or money and to make a difference.

United Way of St Bernard's Parish - a forgotten area deeply impacted by the storm
Make it Right Foundation - the closest any of us will likely get to Brad Pitt
Common Ground - great local group, plus my friend works there
Musicians Village - provides affordable housing for musicians to keep the music in NOLA

This is a really small sampling of all the amazing groups working hard (for very little money) to make New Orleans great again. If you know of other organizations, please post them in the comments section. Now, get packing!

Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler

2009-03-13T18:07:00.003-04:00

Literally, "let the good times roll," this phrase has become the de facto battle cry for the City of New Orleans. Sure, people use it more often around Mardi Gras, which is already three weeks ago. But I'm gonna let Jewish Standard Time rule in this case.

Yes folks, it's time once again to turn Shtetl Fabulous into a road show or travelougue of sorts. Tomorrow I'm heading down to NOLA for the first time and the timing could not be better. The national young leadership contingent of the organization where I work is sponsoring a 4-day conference in the Crescent City. Just imagine 550 Jews, age 25-45, descending on a city with a reputation for unabashed partying and armed with liberal (and consumerist guilt). The blog post fodder is incredible!

Aside from sampling the best Abita Brewery, Cafe duMonde and Creole cuisine has to offer (within the confines of kashrut), I am also looking forward to exploring this mythologized city. From the mansions of the Garden District to the devastation of the Ninth Ward, I fully expect this trip will change me in some way.

To make the process a little easier, the organizers are taking us on a bus tour to some of the areas hit hardest by Hurricane Katrina. In grad school, I took a semester-long course about the myriad failures at every level of government and the environmental miasma that went into creating the costliest natural disaster in American history. From a policy perspective (that's what my master's was in), it's easy to sit on the sidelines and make recommendations and distribute blame. I think my opinions could be a little different after I see things first-hand and have a tangible, human face to the tragedy.

We are also taking out some time from the conference to volunteer at a former school. Since I don't have too many vacation days from work, I've never really had a chance to do "ecotourism" so this should be a great opportunity from that perspective as well.

And finally, there's more than 500 people going through the whole experience with me. For an relentless social butterfly like me, what could be a better way to spend a long weekend?

Time of Our Joy

2009-03-09T22:28:00.002-04:00

Really, I had wanted to do a very funny, witty post in honor of Purim. After all, it's the time of our collective joy and we celebrate the godless holiday with costumes, cookies and public drunkenness. It's a lot of fun.

Local synagogues go to bizarre but great lengths to stage plays, enact pranks and engender merriment. It's also the perfect time for bloggers like me to go whole hog on some parody (no pun intended).

Alas, I've had a lot on my mind (figuring out the radio presets on my new car) and going on in my life (seeing friends and an upcoming trip to New Orleans) that have kept me from investing a whole afternoon in creating a great Purim spoof. Something to the general effect of ghetto mundane which I imagine would include how to make reservations at your local TGI Friday's and my adventures as a completely graceful personal shopper.

Instead, I'm just going to offer a Purim blessing. May this truly be a time of joy for all of us. Whether it's the simple joy of getting a primo parking spot or the nostalgic joy of hearing from an old friend or the collective joy of your alma mater winning March Madness - may we all experience happiness in the coming days and weeks (and years too damnit!).

Where Have All the Models Gone?

2009-03-05T20:04:00.000-05:00

Happened to be perusing the "women's interest" magazine section at my local Barnes and Noble recently and noticed something strange. None of the covers feature models. Rather, they are graced by highly airbrushed and impeccably coiffed celebrities, hocking everything from makeup to fitness routines to sex tips.

Wherefore art thou Cindy, Naomi, Linda and Kate? Remember the 90s when supermodels dominated the national psyche and the covers of Cosmo, Allure and Glamour? Nowadays, you're far more likely to see Reese Witherspoon, Lindsay Lohan or Katie Holmes.

And in the magazines that toe the edge between women's interest and that widely-shared obsession with politics, Michelle Obama's finely-toned arms have become the stuff of blog speculation and gym ambition.

Even the women of comedy are expected to have cover-worthy bodies and faces. As Tina Fey's star has shot into the stratosphere, her modeling gig has shifted from indie rags like Bust to the ultimate in chic, Vanity Fair. And what is up with this month's cover of Shape, featuring Julia Louis Dreyfus? This is the same woman whose character fought over chocolate babka, debated the merits of H&H Bagels, got kicked out by the Soup Nazi and ate Mr. Peterman's antique wedding cake!

Truly, it would be nicer to see more realistic women gracing the covers of magazines than being force fed images of unattainable ideals. Contrary to what advertisers might think, I am far more motivated to buy a magazine that features a woman whose body I could realistically attain or whose clothing I could afford without selling a kidney. But maybe that's just me.

Number 26

2009-02-28T16:58:00.008-05:00

Today I crossed off a pretty big item off my 30 by 30 list. I bought my very first brand-new car. No financial help from my family and I did a ridiculous amount of research all on my own. Luckily, I had some good moral support and a great shopping companion. After three hours and very little haggling, I left with my new wheels.

What I did not get to take with me was my old car. I bought my 1998 Mazda Protege in 2002, just a few months after I moved to Baltimore. My roommate at the time spotted the ad in the City Paper and I paid for it with $4000 cash (my grandparents helped significantly). It wasn't perfect and it had a little cosmetic damage, but it was all mine. Clean title, no payments, passed inspection.

That car saw me through some of the biggest transitions of my life. Adjusting to the East Coast, starting and completing graduate school, making new sets of friends both in Maryland and New Jersey, going through several relationships, health drama for my grandmother, various jobs and internships. For the past 6 1/2 years, often the only constant has been my car. It never had an official nickname, but sometimes I called the car Lambert after my MD plates which started with the letters LAM.

Anthropomorphism aside, you can understand the tinge of sadness I felt in harvesting all the detritus from my old car. The Google Maps printouts to destinations foreign and familiar, the receipts from umpteen repairs and oil changes, the ice scraper I thought I'd lost, the EZ Pass and so much more were neatly tucked into a Ziploc bag for easy transport into my new car. Yesterday before work, I took pictures of all the bumper stickers I've collected and used to decorate the Mazda and to help it stand out in a crowded parking lot. Some, like the University of Arizona sticker will be easy to replace, while others, like my Hungarian EU sticker might be a bit harder to source.

My friend blames my separation anxiety on all those cartoons we watched as kids. The Brave Little Toaster effect she called it. Snicker if you want, but you know you've felt badly at times when you throw away your old coffee grinder or post your ancient digital camera on Craigslist or toss a once-loved sweater in the Goodwill pile.

And who gets that attached to a coffee mill?! This was a car and that poignant sense of loss and guilt at destroying an inanimate object really got to me today. But as tough as it was to say goodbye, I know that every time I turn on my new car and the check engine light doesn't glow, I'll feel a little better. And every time I take it in for a free oil change, a bit of the guilt will dissolve. And every time I can open the trunk without having to turn the car off, I'll feel pretty damn good.

Kosher Cooking Carnival

2009-02-26T09:21:00.002-05:00

This week marks the first time I've submitted to the Kosher Cooking Carnival. And by some awesome bit of luck, I got top billing.

Whether you keep kosher or not, check out all the great articles here!

All in the Family

2009-02-22T19:23:00.010-05:00

While the rest of the blogosphere is all atwitter with musings on Oscar nominations, dress choices and speculations about Ryan Seacrest's sexual orientation, I've decided to write about something completely different this evening. Honestly, I have only seen 2-3 of the nominated films and the rest are waiting release on my Netflix queue (or a free Saturday night). Also, I have a wonderful friend living in Tempe, Ariz. who dishes with me about the terrible outfits across the time zones. Coincidentally, Sean Penn is the shit in Milk and Robert Downey Jr. is the most underrated actor in the universe.

Earlier this week, I got an email via my professional Facebook account from someone whose name sounded vaguely familiar. The man, in his early 60s, introduced himself as my father's cousin Barry, the son of my great aunt, who I have no recollection of ever meeting. After my zayde (dad's father) died in 1989, our family stopped visiting Massachusetts on our regular summer vacations to the East Coast. Aside from seeing my bubbie (dad's mother), aunt and uncle at our bar/bat mitzvahs and at Bubbie's funeral, I've had virtually no contact with that side of my family, lo these 20 years.

Certainly, I've heard nothing of Cousin Barry, his brother and their daughters who were about the same age as me. It always felt a little unfortunate, but luckily I have a great family on my mom's side and I was always content with that. Besides, people on my dad's side had weird nicknames and were diehard Boston sports fans - and I'm a Giants (and Cardinals) fan.

Now, this whole new family dimension has opened and it's left me wondering why. Why now? Why me? And it's not just Cousin Barry. During the past few months and years, I have connected with myriad cousins, from David, the Oregon rancher to Pesha Rachel, the Orthodox mother of seven. Some of them like Cathi in Toronto, I knew about but had no way of contacting and others, like Hadassah Blima, I never knew existed. For someone who grew up with a small family and no Jewish first cousins, it came as quite a shock to find out I'm related to half of Lakewood, New Jersey (a well-known Orthodox Jewish enclave).

Still, why connect through me? Why not my brother or sister? They are outgoing and personable and have the same uncommon last name. The best explanation I've rationalized is that as the oldest child in my family, I'm predisposed to be the connector and filial beacon. And various researchers can back me up. Eldest children are known to be more conscientious and socially dominant than their younger siblings, so maybe it's in the genes. My Cousin Philip (aka our U.S. Ambassador to Macedonia), similarly keeps track of all the family relations and can explain what a second cousin, once removed, actually means. He's also an oldest child.

Whatever the reason, I'm thankful for all the new and rediscovered family connections that have come my way since I moved to the Northeast. Even if it means embracing a few Patriots fans.

And I Knew Him When...

2009-02-18T09:06:00.000-05:00

File this in the "I Knew Him When" category wherein I rarely get to stash items, except for the guy from ninth grade algebra/senior year English who now plays in the NFL. What makes this instance even better is that unlike Todd Heap, George Polk Award-winning journalist Ryan Gabrielson will actually take my calls (plus, I have mildly embarrassing photos of him from college).

For those who don't know him, Ryan is a reporter for The East Valley Tribune (my hometown paper), who wrote an expose of Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio, titled "Reasonable Doubt." You can read the story in its entirety here and you can learn all about the Polk Awards from an article in Monday's New York Times.

Ryan shares the award with 13 other reporters (or teams) from around the country, and he won in the category of justice reporting. I remember talking to Ryan nearly a year ago about the article and his passion, devotion and determination was clearly evident.

Who knew the nervous blond guy wandering the Arizona Daily Wildcat newsroom circa 2000, with a notebook permanently lodged in his back pocket would go on to become the award-winning journalist (and fantastic husband and father) he is today? I'm sure it helps that his wife Rachel is incredibly supportive and that his daughter Olivia is super cool (plus she freakin loves me).

We've had a lot of adventures together, and over all the years, I've never been more proud of Ryan and his enviable dedication to bringing people the truth. Congratulations Toughguy!!!

Waste Not...

2009-02-15T15:12:00.005-05:00

I generally don't post about events that happen to me, in order to preserve some modicum of anonymity and privacy. But every once in a while, something happens to me that is so ridiculous, I feel there is a benefit to the rest of world in sharing the story.

Recently, I started making coffee at home. Raised on instant decaf, I had little coffee making experience from which to draw, but I also knew that it was a skill I should probably master. So strong was my belief in the importance of coffee dexterity, that I included it on my 3o By 30 list. I had a French press taking up kitchen counter space, so I bought some beans, wantonly ground them in the grocery store, and took them home.

Anyone who has used a French press will know that while it's an incredibly easy method for brewing, not using a filter means you have all these coffee grounds just sitting there in the bottom of the pot. You can never adequately get them all into the trash can without the use of a spatula and they tend to shoot out all over the place when you go to rinse them out.

Every time I wanted coffee, I had to deal with the unpleasant task of trashing the grounds. And in these troubled economic times, I hesitated to thoughtlessly throw anything away (here are 10 much better ideas). So I decided that the best thing to do with yesterday's used coffee grounds would be to cool them off in a Tupperware, mix them with some baking soda and use them to exfoliate in the shower.

Once dripping wet and naked, I squirted a liberal amount of shower gel into the container and proceeded to spread the concoction onto my body.

Now, a logical person like yourself may have thought of the potential mess such an idea would engender much earlier in the execution process. But then you wouldn't be me. It took me about one thigh and most of my stomach before I realized that the grounds might be too coarse to fit down the drain... and that it might stain my tub... and that it kinda smelled weird to combine coffee and sea minerals shower gel.

Never one to let a little mess get in my way of what I thought was a good idea at the time, I finished exfoliating before embarking on the imperative task of cleaning the shower. Whatever environmentally-pious intentions I had were completely obliterated by the amount of water I needed to clean the curtain, the soap dish, the tile and the space between my toes.

Maybe not everything should be recycled.

Baby Baby Baby

2009-02-08T16:44:00.004-05:00

Just a few weeks ago, the world marveled at the live birth (via Cesarean section) of eight babies to a woman in California. Matt Lauer and gang trotted out sets of sextuplets and septuplets previously featured on the show to postulate about the health of the babies and mother, the possible names and just what diapers might cost such a family.

Then it came to light this week that the mother, Nadya Soleman, is a single 33-year-old with six other children, all under the age of seven. When interviewed by Ann Curry about why she would want to raise 14 children on her own, Soleman answered “All I wanted was children. I wanted to be a mom. That's all I ever wanted in my life. I love my children.” And how does she plan to support these children? Well she's finishing up her master's degree in counseling and her disability checks (from when she was injured in a riot at the state mental hospital where she worked) provide a little cash. By the way, counselors in Southern California can expect to make about $45,000.

So forget for a minute about the incredible selfishness of this woman hording children, forget about the idiot doctors who have continually impregnated her with some guy's sperm (the children all have the same father), forget about the fact that Ms. Suleman has a publicist, forget the ethical implications, forget about the health risks and even forget about the stretch marks. Let's talk about how these babies affect us.

With multiple birth babies facing high potential for jaundice, seizures, heart problems, blindness and various developmental delays, the taxpayer burden for the Suleman brood could quickly soar into the millions of dollars; all at a time when most people don't have the spare funds for others' delusions of maternity. Early estimates of the hospital bills range from $1.5 to 3 million, and that doesn't even begin to cover the costs of special education, continued asthma treatments, scholarships to summer programs and college and food.

As I mentioned before, Ms. Suleman has had sufficient funds to retain the services of a public relations firm, who are surely hard at work coming up with ways for the family to make some money. In the spirit of helpfulness and volunteering our President has recently advocated, I'd like to offer the Killeen Furtney Group of Los Angeles a few suggestions.

#1 Pimp My Baby
No, not a makeover for the sure to be destitute Suleman children, this would instead be an opportunity for childless couples to rent the children for a weekly fee while the whole world watches. Lifetime or TLC should have no problem getting sponsors... though with 8 kids born at once, it's tempting to suggest Animal Planet.

#2 Cautionary Tale/aka Book Deal
Let's just assume this family will be massively dysfunctional. Ambitious publishers may be smart to secure rights to the kids' stories now so that we can read the tell-all books that much sooner. Bonus - this supports literacy among the children.

#3 Cottage Industry
Why don't more people buy American goods? They're often more expensive than similar items from China or Vietnam. Why? Because those guys use child labor! Now we all can support local industries AND get cheap shit, thanks to the Suleman family. From t-shirts to household goods and sneakers, this could be the perfect marriage of domestic labor and affordability, just what we need in these cost-conscious but idealistic times. Watch out Dov Charney and American Apparel, Suleman Industries is coming to your home turf in LA!

The Day the Music Died

2009-02-03T22:21:00.006-05:00

Of all the topics I routinely feature on this blog, music doesn't figure too prominently. It's not that I don't like listening to music or commenting on the music I enjoy the most. It's just that there is so damn much music floating around out there and I know I listen to the stuff that's already been processed by the radio stations. Plus, I only listen to music on the radio after 6:30 p.m. and on the weekends (NPR the rest of the time).

Besides, music fandom requires a level of devotion I can rarely muster up for total strangers. A friend of mine has been a dedicated Cure fan since the age of 12 and has seen them in concert more times than I've probably visited my own parents in the last 5 years. Other people feel so strongly about the poisonous commercialization of pop music that they only listen to the purest unsigned artists that you'll never hear on the radio. I simply lack that kind of patience and am way too busy with other projects - like this blog.

So why write today about music? Because 50 years ago today, the Big Bopper, Richie Valens and Buddy Holly died in a horrific plane crash while on tour. Don McLean memorialized the event in the infamous ballad American Pie, as a mournful elegy for a time long since passed.

Though I spent many a campfire belting out the song, I'd have to argue that music may have changed profoundly since the 1950s, but it's hardly dead. Sure, we have to battle the evil forces of American Idol winners and Jonas Brothers fans, but we have much to be happy about too.

Music listeners today have the most incredible consumer choice when it comes to their individual preferences. From iTunes to XM to MySpace to independent radio stations (like the excellent RXP in the TriState area), we no longer need big record companies to tell us what to listen to. We can advertise, produce and distribute our own tunes, and often for free.

Sure the onus is on each of us to decide what determines quality music and what is simply manufactured crap, but it makes for some fantastically random playlists. Plus with the economy failing and people having less money to spend on things like CDs or concerts, artists and listeners will get even more creative (or desperate) about promotion and dissemination.

Life and times in the music world may not be as simple as they were in 1959 when the plane went down, but they certainly are interesting. And for the record and proof of some great tunes, my favorite band right now is Gogol Bordello and my favorite song is "You are the Best Thing" by Ray LaMontagne.

Ode to Misanthropy

2009-01-30T18:00:00.002-05:00

If Sartre is to be trusted and hell really is other people, then I must have been a real bitch in a past life. For someone whose work is intended to help humanity (not through this blog, but in my paying job as a fundraiser/Jewish communal drone), I sure do hate a lot of people.

#1 People obsessed with their pets
A Facebook friend of mine who will remain anonymous, actually had this status a few weeks ago, "... is missing Twinkles. Can't believe she went to kitty heaven over a month ago. I miss you baby girl."

Whoa. It's a cat. I'm sure you loved her, but I'm also pretty sure that kitty heaven is a red herring. Plus, if she was stuck with a name like Twinkles, maybe she's better off. Add to this category people who put clothing on their pets (they have fur, duh!) and people who incorporate their pets into their wedding ceremonies.

I loved my dogs growing up and it is still weird sometimes that Sassy isn't there when I come home, or even my friend's dog Sweetie (of course, she was so ill-suited for her name that we nicknamed her Crack Whore). But I digress.

#2 People who speak to everyone as if they are children
Or mentally retarded. I work with a woman whose son is autistic and I'm sure even he hates that she talks to him as if he's stupid. No one really digs condescension, especially when it's coming from someone you're smarter than. Maybe your spouse can tolerate being spoken to like a short-bus rider, but the rest of us really hate it.

#3 People who base all their reading selections on Oprah's Book Club
No disrespect to Oprah. That woman has shaped popular culture, buying habits and the national dialogue in ways I can only dream of. And she did it all on her own terms and from scratch. However, I abhor those people who ask me if I've read a book solely because of its appearance in Oprah's Book Club.

Be a little creative damnit! Go the library or bookstore and read books that YOU like, not just the ones that some rich lady in Chicago liked (or her assistant). Besides, it's generally been my experience that if the American populace loves something, then I should probably run. Don't believe me? See The DaVinci Code, the Dallas Cowboys, adjustable-rate mortgages.

#4 People unable to use proper grammar
Hey asshole, "your" and "you're" cannot be used interchangeably! Go back to second grade and learn the difference.

What's most ironic about my loathing of so many human archetypes is that my relationships with several friends are based on a healthy dose of misanthropy (long live the remaining members of the Sarcasm Trio!!!). There's something comforting about finding someone who hates the same folks you do. Your rage is justified because it isn't your weirdness exclusively and little more is true than the notion that misery loves company.

I could go on forever listing types of people I despise (and synonyms thereof) in a bizarre antithesis of the Stuff White People Like blog. But I'm much more interested in hearing about who my readers hate - please comment with your most odious offenders and happy hating!

Cook What You Know

2009-01-26T20:46:00.003-05:00

With the Arizona Cardinals making their inaugural Super Bowl appearance, various friends have asked me about cooking some Grand Canyon State specialties for their parties on Sunday. OK, so it was only one friend (thanks Roy), but it did get me thinking about how where we come from affects how and what we cook.

Since my parents are East Coasters and my mom is plagued with Crohn's disease and a distaste for spiciness, we didn't have too many traditional Arizonan foods at home. But that didn't stop me from developing a taste for enchilada-style burritos (now I eat vegetarian/kosher versions), nopales (prickly pear cactus pads), chiles and prickly pear-flavored concoctions. Never quite got into fry bread - the Pima/Navajo answer to funnel cake - but there's something about it that always makes me think of the state fair.

Sadly, finding decent sopapillas and Southwestern-influenced food is not too easy here in the Tristate area. I've mastered a darn-tasty meatless chili and if I'm looking to go truly authentic, I could substitute native Nimbus beer, and I rarely make anything containing chocolate without throwing in a little cayenne. Not bad considering most of my Arizona food encounters were limited to restaurants before the age of 22.

Meanwhile back at the late 1970s-built rancher, the flavors in my mother's kitchen took on a decidedly eastern flair... Eastern European, that is. My grandparents came from Hungary after World War II and holidays around our house included at least a few traditional dishes. Homemade apple cake, stuffed cabbage (without tomato sauce), potato/sour cream/beef casserole (from my pre-kosher days), cream of wheat dusted with cocoa, chestnut puree, stuffed peppers and other delicacies filled our table on a regular basis.

When my siblings and I had our bar and bat mitzvahs, the big guns came out and my mom ordered from Schwartz's, the big Hungarian bakery in LA (with locations on Pico AND Fairfax!). Awesome ruggelach, kugeloaf and beigli streamed in and filled the bellies of family and guests alike. And it's one of these treats, chocolate-flavored beigli, that I've decided to tackle for #12 on my 30 By 30 list.

It's on the docket to be checked off in mid-February and I will be sure to let you all know how it turns out.

Apparently, like writing and so many other creative endeavors, cooking is all about drawing on what you know and making it your own. The Southwestern and Hungarian flavors and sensibilities that shaped my cooking style are not as divergent as one might think. Lots of peppers, tomatoes, stewed meats, sour cream and paprika permeate both cuisines. Maybe I'm on to some new fusion concept and Bobby Flay or Rick Bayless will be knocking down my door for menu advice. Just remember this post when you read a New York Times review for that new Magyar-Mex craze that's sweeping the nation.

Jews by Choice

2009-01-22T21:12:00.000-05:00

I was born Jewish but had interactions with those going through conversion or Jews-by-choice literally since I was five years old. I've been roommates with a girl who after 12 years in Catholic school in the heart of Cajun Country decided her soul was Jewish. I've had close family friends who converted as a family when their kids were young. I've known Black Jews by choice, the list goes on.

What I've learned from all these encounters over the past 25 years is that EVERY Jew is a Jew-by-choice. From Boro Park to Bombay, being Jewish isn't easy and we all make daily decisions about what we eat, what we say, when we pray, etc.

Hearing about people choosing conversion who encounter barriers or discrimination really bothers me because we as Jews should do all we can to encourage those who would willingly join our ranks. Even in the relative safety of 21st Century America, it still isn't easy to be a Jew. Lots of holidays to take off, whole new sets of rules and regulations to consider (whether we observe all the commandments or not) and umpteen questions about weird topics like circumcision and matzah.

Now, I think we should keep up the tradition of turning would-be Jews away three times to make sure they are sincere in their quest. But once a person has made the commitment and immersed in the mikvah, he or she is a Jew and deserves all the rights and privileges as anyone who was born Jewish.

So maybe my own attitudes have de-facto attracted Jews by choice into my life. Maybe it's because of those Passover seders my parents would host when I was a kid where every stray person found a spot at our table. Or maybe it's just my insatiable social butterfly instinct.

Whatever it is, I hope it is a position that more people in the organized (and not-so-organized) Jewish community adopt. Might be a good solution to the economic crisis!

Hat Trick Week

2009-01-19T10:09:00.002-05:00

Three unbelievable events in one week - two of which I never thought I'd live to see.

First, as I mentioned in my last post, I truly believe the safe landing of US Airways Flight 1549 in the Hudson was a miracle of science, skill and luck. While it's out of the major media, this is still big news in the New York area as they pull the plane out of the water.

Second, the inauguration of Barack Obama. Yesterday I was driving back from Baltimore and listening to snippets of the We Are One concert on the radio. Every time Obama began to speak I got goosebumps. I'm having a tough time deciding whether I'm more excited about the inauguration of our first black president or about the inauguration of a president I voted for and truly believed in. It's probably both.

Of course, this moment in history is all the more momentous because it coincides so closely with MLK Day. I will admit that I am shirking my civic duty to make this a National Day of Volunteering, but in my defense I haven't really heard about any volunteer opportunities around here. I searched the USA Service website (an offshoot of Obama's campaign site) and found zero activities in my county. The site offers options to filter by activity - food bank, blood drive, clean-up, shelters, health, etc. - and so I'm going to rationalize that giving blood last week covers me in some way. Maybe I'll pick up a spare can of food when I go grocery shopping today to donate.

More than guilt in failing to volunteer and radical amazement (thanks civil rights pioneer A.J. Heschel) at the imminent prospect of a black president, I just feel tremendous pride in my country. For the first time in my adult life, I feel represented by the people at the forefront. My values, my priorities, my aesthetic, my worldview - they are all embodied when President (elect) Obama, Mrs. Obama or his deputies speak.

Though I won't be at the inauguration festivities, many of my friends will (and they'll be freezing their asses off!). I will be celebrating while safely and warmly ensconsed in my cubicle and I will likely shed a tear of joy at what we've built together.

Third and finally, an event I truly could not have imagined I would live to see. The Arizona Cardinals are going to the Super Bowl!!! You have to understand, most people who live in the Phoenix area are not Cards fans because they often come from another city with a vastly superior football team and because those red birds generally suck.

Those days are over! The sports commentators remarked that the record 70,000+ crowd was dressed predominantly in Cardinals red and friends in Phoenix told me people were setting off fireworks in their neighborhoods. Arizona is such a nebulous place - we're not the West and we're not the South; we are a state of migrants and many of us have divided loyalties in politics, sports and other arenas.

But now for a brief, shining two week period, we have a chance to go absolutely crazy at the prospect of winning the Super Bowl. And it's all the more exciting since we could take the Steelers down in the process. I have not bought my Larry Fitzgerald jersey yet, but who knows if next fall I could be cheering for Big Red as much as Big Blue?

Just as Barack Obama has made me proud to be an American, the Cardinals having a shot at a Super Bowl victory makes me a little prouder to be an Arizonan. Not only do I know what I'm doing on January 20 at noon, but now I know where I'll be on Sunday, February 1. GO CARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Miracle on the Hudson

2009-01-16T12:14:00.002-05:00

Heroic, miraculous, downright amazing. Those are the words that instantly leap to mind when I think about the fate of US Airways Flight 1549 and its crash into the Hudson River yesterday. As I first listened to the report on NPR, I flinched, figuring how could anyone survive a plane crash into chilly waters. Then an incredible sense of relief as the news broke that there were no fatalities and that the pilot beat extraordinary odds to land in a shallow part of the river and the luck in having many ferries immediately available.

A few hours later, extreme media fatigue set in as it seemed every person who ever flew in a plane or worked along the Hudson chimed in with their take on the event. CNN had surgeon general nominee/chief medical correspondent Sanjay Gupta talking about hypothermia (guess what, cold water is bad!). NTSB officials flowed onto the screen like lemmings off a cliff. They even had Dr. Phil spouting off because he's a pilot.

While I don't mean in any way to diminish the unbelievable alignment of events that had to take place to keep this from becoming an utter disaster, aren't there other news stories to cover? Are we so desperate for any good news that we will devote an entire news cycle or two to this story?

In my opinion, yes. With wars in three Middle Eastern locations, failed economy, despicable greed, job losses and the Obamas still not commited to a new dog, we are more than ecstatic to get it up for the smallest shred of goodness and cheer. And who said all the heartwarming shit only happens in time for the holidays?

Fear and Ambivalence in the Strip

2009-01-12T22:09:00.003-05:00

Somewhere in the haze of the depressing news about the economy and the exhilarating news about the inauguration, there has been ample time for the media to cover the incredibly depressing news of the war in the Middle East. Which came first - the incursion into Gaza or the Hamas bombardment of civilian targets in Israel - depends on who you ask. What everyone can seem to agree on is that the situation is ripe with potential for pundits, commentators and of course, bloggers.

My colleague, Jack over at Random Thoughts and curator of the Haveil Havalim, has compiled no fewer than 14 editions of blog carnivals devoted to the current violence in the Gaza Strip/Southern Israel. (In the interest of brevity and political correctness, heretofore referred to as the GS/SI Shitstorm.) Many of my Facebook friends have yielded their status reports to daily-updated tabulations of rocket counts. Others have attended rallies from Baltimore to New York to Los Angeles.

Yet in 17 days of formalized battle, I have remained uncharacteristically silent. No submissions railing against Hamas violations of three-hour humanitarian ceasefires. No money paid to help Palestinians held hostage by threat of airstrikes. No posters carried to convince world opinion of Israel's rightness in waging this fight. Why?

More than fatigue or absorption with pressing problems closer to home (and literally within my own family), I feel an incredible sense of ambivalence about the GS/SI Shitstorm, which by the way is known as Operation Cast Lead in Israel.

On one hand, I firmly believe that Israel and all Israelis have the right to live in peace and security without fear of constant rocket fire. Just as America would strike with furious vengance if a projectile launched from Sonoita detonated in Tucson; Israel has to defend herself.

But on the other hand, I don't see how the deaths of more than 900 Palestinians accomplishes anything more than making more suicide bombers, more Hamas militants, more extremists. Because I gotta tell you, if I didn't already hate Mexicans (which I totally don't), having them lob murderous weapons at me would make me freaking hate them.

Some people instantly throw down the anti-Semite card at the first sign of media leaning to any side that is not 100% pro-Israeli. Protests have sprung up throughout Europe condemning Israel's actions as disproportionate, aggressive and (dare I say) terrorizing and as expected, the organized Jewish community has labeled Jew-haters anew.

Sure, the Israeli Defense Forces are held up to a different standard than that of any other country. When 40 civilians died near a United Nations school in Gaza, it wasn't an unfortunate and tragic mistake. It was further evidence of the barbaric Tzahal airstrikes. Nevermind evidnce that Hamas booby-traps schools and uses children as human shields.

My best advice on this issue is to simply get used to it. Mass media will always expect more from the IDF - they made the same mistake I did and were entirely too good at the beginning. Maybe if we'd let the Six-Day War go on for a whole week, they would cut us a little slack now.

Today the New York Times published a story about how the worldwide criticism has forged solidarity among often-fractured Israelis, and their Jewish brethern in the Diaspora. So why is it still so hard for me to outwardly express my Zionism?

As a child, I was sold the notion that Israel was this mystical, magical place where milk and honey flowed from every crack in the sidewalk and where every Jew experienced some sort of spiritual awakening. In my two entirely too brief trips, I have fallen in love with the sights and been inspired by its people, but I've never been able to give myself over to Israel whole hog (pun intended).

Just as I love America, despite her faults, I love Israel in the same way. Enthusiastically and unconditionally, but still with a few questions. And maybe that's why when times are tough in Israel, I will defend her to our enemies but will shrink from the front lines of rhetorical battle. Besides, healthy criticism is much easier when the rockets aren't raining down on you.

30 By 30

2009-01-08T00:01:00.035-05:00

Over at Day Zero they encourage people to come up with 101 in 1001 (that's 101 things to do in 1001 days), but that seems really ambitious. Instead, I'm launching 30 By 30, my list of 30 things I want to accomplish in the 365 days before my 30th birthday.

I'm going to do my best to follow the advice of the Day Zero folks and create specific tasks with measurable or definable results. You can track my results through this link (provided the Blogger Help Group people are right). Tasks in progress will appear in blue. Finished tasks will appear in green with the date of completion. Of course, there will be frequent Facebook status updates related to the list.

ACTIVITIES/TRAVEL
1. Travel to a new place below the Mason Dixon Line (March 14, 2009)
2. Visit three tourist spots in New Jersey (went to the Museum of Early Trades and Crafts in Madison, the American Hungarian Foundation in New Brunswick and the Morris Museum November 2009.)
3. Get another stamp in my passport before it expires (I left the country on July 3, 2009 but didn't get a stamp because Canada doesn't roll like that. Then I got a stamp from Costa Rica on Aug. 4, 2009.)
4. Watch four foreign language films (May 16, 2009)
5. Do a yoga class focused on meditation versus exercise (April 23, 2009)
6. Spend a little time exploring an outer borough (Aug. 15, 2009)

SPIRITUALITY
7. Say blessings over my food
8. Volunteer meaningfully. Hey, I even started a group for young Jews to volunteer: www.facebook.com/JerseyTribe. (December 8, 2009)
9. Give Divine thanks for the blessings in my life and the lives of others
10. Learn about another religious faith or tradition (April 2, 2009)
11. Find a synagogue I enjoy for the high holidays (not fully enjoyable, but it was good enough. September 19, 2009)

FOOD
12.Master a complicated Hungarian dessert (Feb. 14, 2009)
13. Cook with two new vegetables or fruits per season (3/4)
14. Make coffee tasty enough for others to drink/enjoy (Feb. 15, 2009)
15. Eat in one of the umpteen New York City restaurants I'm always reading about & lusting over - I'm planning to hit the Second Avenue Deli for my birthday lunch!
16. Cook Indian food (September 3, 2009)
17. Roast a turkey and serve it at a dinner party (or Shabbos dinner)

WRITING
18. Comment on five new blogs each month (4/12)
19. Earn $100 from Google AdSense ($35 as of mid-July!)
20. Increase my readership by 20% from where it was last year
21. Submit posts to a blog carnival each month (Been doing for at least half the year so I think we're good. July 17, 2009)
22. Launch three new blog-related (or writing) endeavors (April 12, 2009)

LIFE
23. Get over my fear of driving on bridges
24. Read 25 books in one year (15/25)
25. Have an emergency kit in my car
26. Get a new car (Feb. 28, 2009)
27. Get a new job (Aug. 19, 2009)
28. Get a new place to live (Since my new job is only 4 miles from my current apartment, I'm not moving. Sorry to disappoint.)
29. Practice speaking/reading Spanish (Aug. 12, 2009 in Costa Rica)
30. Master the art of doing nothing. I'm pretty sure this will be the hardest item on the list. Didn't fully do it, but I think I'm getting better. (January 1, 2010)

Birthday Presents for Everybody!

2009-01-06T08:40:00.002-05:00

Remember when you were a kid and your birthday rocked, not just because you got presents but because you knew you'd be invited to all those other kids' birthday parties where you'd get those favors? It was like getting another round of presents!

This year, I've decided to kick it old school and offer some of my readers a chance at a little birthday favor that is Shtetl Fabulous. My birthday is on Thursday and I just got some cute postcards that I really want to send out.

The first 20 people who respond to this post (either via comment or email) will get an original limerick or haiku sent to the address of their choosing. If you don't want anything dirty, please be sure to include that in your message as my poetry skills flourish most when I can be a little blue.

Hoping to have a more thorough post in time for the big day and thanks for being a part of the first official Shtetl Fabulous birthday giveaway!

Haveil Havalim Shout Out

2009-01-04T17:22:00.003-05:00

Check out my post and a whole ton of other fantastic stuff at this week's Haveil Havalim! Ima on (and off) the Bimah did a fantastic job compiling all the submissions and making it readable.

If you've been following the latest tragedies in Israel, there's also a collection of posts there about the conflict in Gaza.

If you've just got a lazy Sunday night ahead of you and you're dreading the inevitable alarm tomorrow morning, this is a great way to spend a few minutes (or hours). Feel free to peruse and enjoy!

The Passion of the Everyday

2009-01-01T21:18:00.002-05:00

It's New Year's Day. A day both reviled and praised for its insipid power to make people introspective and to arouse a need for revision in one's life. Those bloated with an excess of holiday goodies crowd the gym (though luckily for the avid exerciser, most of them quit a few weeks later), I'm sure sales of Nicorette increase and especially this year, people open up their outdated Quickbooks software in a futile attempt to balance bank accounts.

For whatever reason, January first is our cultural cue to hit the reset button and attempt (often vainly) to draw new inspiration into our lives. I have generally eschewed the entire concept of New Year's resolutions on account of the fact that they have minimal staying power.

My innate and pathological need to get things done means I feel more let down than normal folks when I don't achieve a goal. Believe me, spending most of New Year's Day on the couch was as much an accomplishment for me as losing ten pounds and cleaning up the basement might be for you.

Two of the activities I indulged in today have converged in my head as rather striking and serve as the real inspiration for this post. First, I read a bit more of this fantastic book, Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen. It's a nonfiction piece about a disgruntled secretary who embarks on a quest to cook all the recipes in Julia Child's classic Mastering the Art of French Cooking in her Long Island City, Queens kitchen. Dogged by hard-to-find ingredients, a lifestyle that does not allow for hours of cooking and a rebellious plumbing system, Julie charts her experiences on a blog and fuels her efforts with many vodka gimlets.

You have to get past some histrionics, but ultimately both Julie Powell's story and the framing biography of Julia Child are a testimony to following one's passion, even when found in an unlikely place. They faced more existential obstacles than the average amputee war hero or blind race car driver, but their zeal nonetheless comes across ebulliently. Neither Julie nor Julia truly uncovered their talents until their late 20s/early 30s and as a gal with a birthday coming up next week, I find that particularly comforting.

Second in my New Year's Day agenda came watching Man on Wire, a new documentary that tells the story of Philippe Petit's tightrope walk between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in 1974, a few other daring walks. NPR's David Edelstein offers a pretty good review here, that you can read on your own. What fascinated me about Philippe's feat was the sheer audacity of it all. While preparing for the "coup," he repeatedly flew back and forth from Paris to New York, had to purchase expensive equipment, procure false documents and convince friends to participate in the effort.

For the life of me, I could not get over how this all happened; even more so because he did it for the art of it. The only explanation the film offers and the only conclusion I could come to was - passion.

Just like Julie Powell threw all logic and quite a bit of money out the window in order to whip up more than 500 baroque French recipes in the span of a year, Philippe risked his life and his freedom for the beautiful thrill of accomplishment.

In no way do I mean to assert that getting through my lengthy to do list of grocery shopping, trips to the gym and blogging is on par with walking on a thin wire, 110 stories up for 200 feet; but it's a start. The notion of discovering my passion occupies probably too much of my brain time these days with a monumental birthday just 395 days away. Maybe I believe in resolutions after all.

A Blessing on Your Head

2008-12-28T19:11:00.003-05:00

Despite a New York Giants Super Bowl victory, the election of Barack Obama and some nice personal victories, 2008 seems to be hobbling toward a less-than ecstatic ending. The economy officially sucks, some guy coincidentally named "Made-off" pulled the greatest disappearing act since Houdini, pirates are terrorizing East Africa, Proposition 8 passed in California and violence has once again consumed Israel and Palestine.

Around this time last year, I did a pretty good retrospective post on 2007. If you're so inclined, you can reread it here and then shame me for failing to live up to my own resolutions and expectations for 2008. If you're in the mood for something completely different, read on.

Have you ever noticed that many Jewish women are preternaturally disposed to give out advice, solicited or not? In the newspaper, Dear Abby (aka Pauline Esther Friedman Phillips) and Ann Landers (aka Esther Pauline Friedman Lederer) dominated the advice columns. These identical twin sisters who had a joint Jewish wedding in 1939, had no problem telling the people of America exactly how to solve all their personal problems.

Meanwhile on television, Judge Judy Sheindlin has been delivering no-nonsense verdicts for more than 12 years... but I'm sure she still humbles herself on Yom Kippur each year.

Jewish women taking the liberty of dispensing advice has certainly not been restricted to the breakfast table and the living room. In the bedroom, few have given more advice than the diminutive Dr. Ruth Westheimer. A German Holocaust survivor who was injured while serving as a sharpshooter in the Israeli War of Independence, Dr. Ruth's radio and television shows have dramatically changed the sexual awareness and attitudes of the American public.

Then there's the whole subgenre of Jewish advice-givers with a romantic agenda - the shadchan (matchmaker). These gals have so permeated popular culture that Shoshanna's Matches advertises everywhere and Patti Stanger, the Millionaire Matchmaker, is about to start her second season on Bravo.

As another Jewish woman frequently called upon to offer advice to friends, I wonder what it is that makes some people predisposed to counsel others. In the past several months I've dished out sex tips to Orthodox Jewish girlfriends, helped a few folks network and chatted through many relationship dramas. More often than not, these discussions help me work out my own challenges as much as they (hopefully) enlighten my friends.

Still, that doesn't quite touch of whatever je nais se quois exists in the yenta gene. That breezy conversation about a taboo topic or off-hand remark about a better way to get the job done is not easy for everyone.

I would assert (appropriately enough), that Jewish women are more often raised to be direct and outspoken. We often have strong mothers and grandmothers who would much prefer honest confrontation to demure submission. Plus, how would we have survived 40 years in the desert, myriad pogroms, subtler persecution and the Barney's sample sale if we didn't have a strong bitch telling us what to do?!

Maybe it's my birthright to be bossy. After all, I'm an oldest child born to a mother who's also an oldest. Plotting out plans of action for others gives me good practice for future world domination and there is something about breaking down barriers that I find intensely exhilirating. Besides, what is a blog but a gigantic advice column? Who knows, 2009 could even bring a new feature here on Shtetl Fabulous (I'll take your suggestions for a title).

Happy New Year to everyone!

Holiday Haitus

2008-12-22T21:21:00.000-05:00

Here's one reason why television writers have it easier than bloggers... OK, two reasons. One, they actually get paid. And two, when the holidays come around and they don't feel like coming up with anything terribly witty, they just throw together a clip show.

I suppose I could have culled my past posts and relinked them for a Shtetl Shtick segment, but that's generally what I reserve for new year's and birthday retrospectives. Besides, with all the blogger carnivals I'm trying to worm my way into, it just seems repetitive.

Instead of giving you the best (or worst) of my own writing, I've decided to highlight a few holiday-themed stories that I've deemed truly fabulous.

First - you can always count on the folks at NPR to take a different angle on the holiday story. Today's All Things Considered featured a piece on the Major League Dreidel throw down, where else? The Lower East Side.

Also from NPR is this story about pimping Christmas and Fresh Air's Terry Gross interviews Erran Baron Cohen (Sacha's brother) about his new CD of reworked Hanukkah tunes featuring Y-Love rapping in Yiddish and a version of the Dreidel Song that Gogol Bordello would have approved.

Next, what's a New Year's celebration without a little bubbly? Thanks to the New York Times you can sip in style without breaking the bank with a selection of sparkling wines under $20.

Since Kwanzaa doesn't start until December 26, the media and blog outlets still are chewing on the fat of latkes and sufganiyot and probably won't get around to this oft-maligned holiday until after the Christmas insanity. If someone has a great Kwanzaa post - please share!

Finally, in a case of Big Brother working for the Big Guy, the Austin American Statesman ran this Associated Press piece about local police departments and community groups planting GPS devices and hidden cameras on public holiday displays to protect from theft and vandalism. Imagine the Baby Jesus at your local nativity scene or the shamash candle in the Chabad-sponsored menorah having a hidden camera implanted inside? Sorta makes me think of Stephen King's It.

So there you have it, a holiday round-up of a different sort. Not sure if I will take a full holiday hiatus this year. Depends on my weekend plans and what sort of hilarity comes my way. Until next time - have a great Chrismakwanzakah (and a merry New Year)!

May Salvation Arise

2008-12-18T22:15:00.000-05:00

"Yekum Purkan," literally, "May Salvation Arise." It's the start of two ancient Aramaic prayers recited every Sabbath in traditional Ashkenazi congregations, that ask the Divine to protect sages, rabbis, students and community leaders. The second prayer requests grace, kindness, physical health, sustenence, healthy children and more for all the members of the congregation. Some synagogues add in prayers for those who work on behalf of the community, for the soldiers who defends us and the secular leaders who make significant decisions.

In this time of economic uncertainty and fear, it strikes me that perhaps we've left out a very important group of people who make a profound impact on all our lives. Those who make financial decisions on our behalf. Sadly, the need for such an appeal came ferociously to the fore this week with the arrest of investment giant Bernard Madoff who reportedly bilked his clients for at least $50 billion.

What's made Madoff's downfall especially lethal in my own microcosm has been its disproportionate blow for the Jewish community. At least two private foundations devoted to the Jewish community have folded and another is in jeopardy. Famous Jews including Elie Wiesel, Steven Spielberg and NJ Senator Frank Lautenberg (who made a $350,000 gift to my own place of employment), were hit especially hard by the Madoff scandal.

Numerous Jewish institutions including Yeshiva University and Hadassah have been hit hard, as have communities from New York to Palm Beach. Likewise, real estate companies owned by Jews like Newmark Knight Frank, Rexcorp and Sterling Equities (all of whom have employees and executives involved with my particular nonprofit) fell victim to Madoff's seductive promises of returns. Read it and try not to weep here (The Forward) and here (The New York Times).

Ronald A. Cass from the Wall Street Journal does a much better job of portraying Madoff's ability to exploit intergroup trust with his recent op-ed piece and I won't try to top him. But I will try to put my years of Jewish education to some good use with the following meditation.

"A Prayer for those Who Make Important & Impactful Financial Decisions"
May salvation arise from heaven and bring blessing, long life, health, faith and happy children to those whose daily actions and judgments affect us all. Grant them wisdom, guide their hands and endow them with intelligence. Remove from them enmity, egoism, greed and the shameless pursuit of self-interest. May the Divine be for you a source of help and may your respect for humanity keep you from all evil-doing. And let us say Amen.

Wanted: Nice Jewish Boys

2008-12-14T20:56:00.002-05:00

Not for me, I'm spoken for. But plenty of highly-regarded Jewish institutions might as well make this their motto as non-Orthodox American Jewish men abandon organized outposts of their faith in droves.

Earlier this year, the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies at Brandeis released a study that demonstrated Jewish women outstrip Jewish men in many measures of identity including number of Jewish friends, solidarity with Israel and synagogue affiliation. A Boston Globe article published to coincide with the study revealed that 60 percent of rabbinical students and 84 percent of cantorial students at HUC-JIR, the Reform movement's seminary, are women.

The study also asserts that the halakhic observance of recognizing only matrilineal descent for children of interreligious couples further distances men from Judaism. Since their kids won't be recognized as Jews in any but the most liberal congregations, most intermarried men choose not to raise their children as Jews.

Overall, it seems that as women have been encouraged to assume leadership positions in Jewish communal institutions and ritual observance, then men have been pushed to the sidelines. Strangely, it reminds me of a Sex and the City episode when the characters wonder that as their gender roles have evolved and left them more empowered, where it leaves the men in their lives.

Is the feminization of liberal American Judaism simply the pendulum swinging to the other extreme in response to thousands of years of patriarchy? Do Jewish men now have to relinquish another bastion of masculinity?

As a prototypical third-waver, subscribing to the whole "Feminism is the radical notion that women are people," thing, I might be cheered by my Jewish sisters doin it for themselves. But I think that misses the mark.

Which is why I was pretty cheered and entertained to see this offered on a Hanukkah gift guide. Ranging in age from 23-33, the Nice Jewish Guys 2009 Calendar, begs the question, "What's not to like?" Here, we get a range of all the Jewish male stereotypes with a few curveballs for fun.

Daniel, 30 and a close ringer for Seth Rogen, loves Shark Week on Discovery and "never met a sandwich he didn't get along with." There's an investment banker dude for the Long Island JAP, an Upper West Side foodie for the balebusta and a wannabe Ari Gold perfect for the LA starlet.

Ultimately, like so many other Jewish creations of the last 10 years (Heeb, The Tribe, Kehilat Hadar and JDub Records come to mind), the Nice Jewish Guys calendar shows that both Jewish men and women are not so much turning their backs on traditional institutions as they are making new ones. Today's young Jews have a completely different set of life experiences and a wholly different way of connecting to their Judaism and to other Jews.

I don't mean to be glib about the future of the Jewish people. I care deeply about having exciting, inspiring Jewish life available for my not-yet-existent Jewish children (male or female). Maybe the organized Jewish community would do better conducting fewer studies and spending more time and money on tearing down boundaries and making themselves relevant in today's world. Then the men and the women will come back.

The Thrill is Gone

2008-12-11T22:13:00.004-05:00

I was watching The Office tonight when I realized that something happens to television shows that is (shocking) nothing like it is in real life. While this episode was pretty good and juicy, I loved the show so much more before Jim and Pam together. Why is it that tv shows wherein the best dialogue and plot draw from sexual tension between the main characters suck once said characters get it on?

Don't believe me? Think about Northern Exposure. Great show before Maggie and Fleishman hooked up. But fast forward a half a season and the show is so awful, Rob Morrow leaves the show only to be replaced by Paul Provenza. No more jokes about trying to get a decent bialy in Juneau and definitely no more furtive glances between our two stars.

Of course, the patron saint of "will-they-or-won't-they" plot lines was Cheers, which featured not one, but two examples of the plot devise. Cheers avoided some of the doldrums of other shows because Sam Malone was such a pimp. First, we had the brawn versus brain chemistry between Sam and Diane. When that tension fizzled the producers and Shelley Long were smart enough to trade the less charismatic character and brought in Rebecca. Though after they got hot between the sheets, Cheers grew cold in its Thursday night time slot.

I'm undoubtedly neglecting other examples of this unfortunate side effect of sitcom character nooky that I'm hereby dubbing "The Third Season Slump." If you know of a show that proves my theory or can offer a corollary, please leave a comment!

Is Bitter Better?

2008-12-08T20:15:00.002-05:00

The economy has officially entered recession (though I guess the pencil pushers say it started a year ago), today's temperature failed to top freezing and my comrades in the newspaper business took another devastating hit today as the Tribune Company filed for bankruptcy. There are ample reasons to be utterly bitter these days and from this writer's perspective that might not be awful news.

Over the years, I've found that a general snark in my tone works for me. After all, my high school class voted me Most Sarcastic and I like my writing best when it's acerbic, biting, maybe even a touch angry.

Rage is an excellent motivator. So too its close cousin angst, which has an impotent connotation that often leaks into artistic outputs. Just look at the Smiths, the Cure, the entire Punk, Grunge and Emo movements. Huge proof for why bitter is the better worldview when you're trying to put out a record, poetry, a movie or even a blog.

So what to do when by some twist of fate you find yourself downright happy with at least part of your life? When all those cheery holiday wishes happen to fall on receptive ears and for once you don't want to throttle a Salvation Army bell-ringer, how can you write a Grinchy rant about another agonizing Christmas season as the lonely Jew?

Believe me, in this winter of our collective discontent, I am eternally grateful for a little sunshine, a few bright spots. The Heineken-inspired hijinks at a Chinese-Vietnamese wedding I attended this past weekend, complete with new friends and great pictures, make it damn hard to bitch and moan today.

But it all begs the question; in the face of overwhelming gloom when our nation needs a zaftig, fressing supersnark, has Shtetl Fabulous turned optimist? Or worse, a dreamy-eyed hack? Could a little happiness be my creative cryptonite? Probably not, but if you've got some good post ideas brewing or an item of general outrage festering in your pretty little head, please please send it along.

They Feel the Heat, The Heat Between Me and You

2008-12-03T23:05:00.000-05:00

Last night I had the opportunity to cook for someone, which was great because generally I cook only for myself and chow down in front of the TV (like I did tonight). My dining companion is a fellow fan of spicy food and so I liberally included Mexican flavors and various forms of heat-inducers into the meal. Cayenne and cumin on the roasted sweet potatoes; red pepper flakes with the sauteed spinach; and a healthy dose of enchilada sauce on the broiled tilapia.

As we sat feasting, I wondered what it is about spice and heat that entices so many people while it repulses many others. Derived from the chemical compound capsaicin, the heat of chile peppers is measured in Scoville units and ranges from the innocuous bell pepper to the raging habanero and naga jolokia. Known to alleviate pain, regulate blood sugar and stimulate weight loss, an over-consumption of hot peppers can lead to stomach cancer and some people can lose taste buds, but that hardly deters the devoted.

So besides a few medical benefits and risks, what is it about a temporary numbness in our mouths that leads some people to become "chile-heads" and others to run in fear?

According to those geniuses at Wikipedia, "When consumed, capsaicinoids bind with pain receptors in the mouth and throat that are normally responsible for sensing heat. Once activated by the capsaicinoids, these receptors send a message to the brain that the person has consumed something hot. The brain responds to the burning sensation by raising the heart rate, increasing perspiration and release of endorphins."

Hmmm... sweating, heart racing, endorphins? Sounds like a fun night to me.

Like those enamored of rare cheese, wine, scotch, die-hard fans of spice will go to great lengths to enjoy the thrill of the heat as it hits their mouths. What's different and rather wonderful about the pursuit of chiles is their democracy. A nice bottle of scotch can be damn expensive. But even at $3.99/pound at Whole Foods, most of us can afford a 2-ounce habanero. Various types of hot sauces routinely retail for less than $10 and if you plan it right, a little can go a long way.

The rush is also readily accessible and more socially acceptable than heroin or bungee jumping. Why bother with a sketchy dealer when you can just visit your local grocery store or farmer's market? Why risk death from sky diving when the worst you'll get from peppers is an ulcer? Besides, the chocolate companies have now figured out what the Mayans knew a few hundred years ago - chocolate plus chile equals awesome.

With its promise of cheap thrills, widely available fixes and a physical reaction reminiscent of an orgasm, it's almost harder to understand why anyone would NOT love a little spice in their life. Besides, with winter and an official recession upon us, we all could use some warming up.

Hate to Write This

2008-11-28T09:19:00.000-05:00

It breaks my heart to have to write a piece like this again, especially in the context of a fun holiday weekend at home with family and friends. However, hate and fear has once again shattered the act of hope and love, this time in India.

Terrorists launched multi-site attacks throughout Mumbai on Wednesday and now more than 150 people are dead. All these lives matter, but what has been particularly shocking and disturbing is the revelation that the Chabad House was targeted for violence and destruction. These are ultra-Orthodox Jewish emissaries whose task is to provide an oasis of Jewish observance around the world, and their locations are staffed by young couples eager to engage unaffiliated Jews, to offer basic Jewish amenities and to spread the word of the Rebbe (Menachem Mendel Schneerson).

Whether or not you agree with their politics, practices or observances is irrelevant at this juncture. The simple fact now is that at least 5 people - including the local rabbi and his wife - may be dead and their souls deserve the utmost respect. You can read about the whole story here.

One Chabad concept I find particularly powerful is the notion that the fulfillment of any mitzvah, or commandment, brings the whole world that much closer to spiritual redemption. That can be as extreme as adopting a strictly Orthodox lifestyle or as basic as being nice to those around you. Don't let these amazing people die in vain. Spend a few minutes today doing good. Help the elderly. Feed the hungry. Care for the sick. Hell, even stimulating the economy can be considered a noble deed in these times. Do anything you can to help prevent this from ever happening again.

May the memories of those who passed be for a blessing.

Let's Eat Turkey in My Big Brown Shoe

2008-11-25T23:09:00.003-05:00

No doubt tomorrow afternoon's excursion to Newark Airport will inspire numerous blog topics for me, but for now I figured I'd rattle off a few items/people for which I am thankful at this moment in time.

Four hundred plus friends and counting on Facebook. Sure, it's a little trite and entirely too many people over 45 are joining, but there's something to be said for this cultural phenomenon. Since we all left our small villages and towns hundreds of years ago, we have lacked the ephemeral connections that near-daily contact provides. Now the mini-feed is our town crier and you can easily re-establish forsaken and lost friendships with just a few mouse clicks.

The Wii. It's been around for a few holiday seasons and it just keeps getting cooler. Now they have music, and as I learned tonight, guns! I still love the trampoline game and the balance exercises on the Wii Fit best but am willing to make some room in my Mii's life for more aggressive endeavors. Of course, owning a Wii might make that slightly more possible.

Chocolate. Indian food. Ethopian food. Chocolate-covered strawberries. Really good brisket. Turkey with stuffing and all the fixings. And honestly being thankful enough that I am in good enough financial shape to enjoy all these things. If you're looking for a great holiday gift PLEASE consider making a donation to your local food bank.
Garden Staters - click here for the Community Food Bank of New Jersey.
You don't have to be Jewish to give to Mazon, but it helps.
Or try the great folks at America's Second Harvest.

And finally I am thankful for the classic Adam Sandler Thanksgiving song. In case it's been a few years, relive the magic here.

Hola! Shalom! What?

2008-11-20T20:47:00.000-05:00

In addition to my goal of completing the New York Times crossword puzzle without cheating or giving up and moving over to the Style Section, one of my life's ambitions is to be trilingual in Hebrew, English and Spanish.

Apparently, I'm not alone in making this resolution to shed my shameful American monolingualism - the good folks over at Stuff White People Like listed "Promising to Learn a New Language," at #115. While SWPL asserts this compulsion stems from some white man's burden or cultural imperialism, I think it's much more simple than that. Eavesdropping (OK, and maybe a little guilt).

Who hasn't been at Disneyland or the mall or a subway car and wished he/she could understand whatever the people across the way were saying? Or wanted to talk mad shit about those same people without being understood? It would be MUCH easier if you and a friend or two could mutually speak a non-English language.

So why the need to speak two additional languages? Again, very simple. Spanish is perfect for the first application. Many other people speak it and being fluent would give me greater entree in many of life's venues - restaurants, the entire South and Central American continents and literally my own backyard. Besides, it's pretty simple to learn and I'm from Arizona where Spanish is a first language for a growing number of people.

On the other hand, Hebrew is perfect for my second eavesdropping raison-d'etre. Outside of Israel, certain sections of Los Angeles and the Upper West Side, not too many people speak it. Compared to the millions fluent in Mandarin, Hindi or Spanish for that matter, Hebrew speakers are pretty sparse. Plus, it's way easier to learn than my ancestral language of Hungarian and it makes those Sunday school classes seem less wasteful.

Unfortunately, these dual aspirations don't come with an instruction manual, community college courses are time-consuming and despite Michael Phelps's endorsement, my fluency might have evolved beyond Rosetta Stone. So what's an aspiring woman of the world to do?

One option is to watch copious television or movies in said language. But telenovelas and depressing Israeli movies don't really help with verb conjugation and the past participle. Mostly, I try to talk to strangers or the near-strangers in my office who speak either Hebrew or Spanish (or in one case, both). Native speakers are the best teachers and I'm generally able to coerce them to forgive my mistakes using my natural charm. It's a great way to make friends, though I recommend a little caution.

It might take me a while to achieve my goal, but I subscribe to the belief that the longer the to-do list, the longer God lets you live. Actually, I'm counting on that axiom, in any language.

Borscht or Bloomingdales

2008-11-16T20:25:00.005-05:00

Mary-Ann and Ginger. Betty and Veronica. Mary and Mary Magdelene. Popular culture and Christianity are rife with examples of the virgin-whore dichotomy. Women are relegated into two camps. One is pure and innocent, placed on a pedestal without the taint of human touch. The other embodies pulchritudinous temptation (or in plain English is the village bicycle). There isn't much gray area in between and frankly, it's a lousy choice.

Lucky for me, I'm a Jewish girl and we tend to shy away from the whole Original Sin thing and we view sex as a healthy aspect of human relationships. That said, I have noticed that representations and conceptualizations of Jewish women tend to fall into two categories, eerily similar to the good old fashioned virgin-whore construct. Look around in movies, books and even many of your friends. They'll fall into one of two categories - the JAP and the Balebusta.

We're all familiar with the Jewish American Princess. You'll most frequently find them in their natural habitat, the mall, using daddy's credit card and whining. Herman Wouk coined the rather pejorative term and back in the day, 2 Live Jews even made a song about these entitled ladies. Generally portrayed as being uninterested in anything domestic, JAPs also get a reputation for being sexually withholding. Of course, New Jersey and Long Island host and breed the largest concentrations of JAPs and Fran Drescher is pretty much the poster-woman.

Then there's her polar opposite, the Balebusta. Perhaps less easy to lampoon, she is the Jewish equivalent of Martha Stewart, and her name literally means "homemaker" in the best sense of the word. She is earthy and voluptous, and how could she not be with those killer latkes she makes?! Unlike the goyishe Donna Reeds, the Balebusta rules her home, rather than submitting to her husband, and her moniker implies loving care and pride in her roost.

Confused? Here's a little comparison to help you out. The Balebusta makes kugel and brisket. The JAP makes reservations.

Sure, it's a bit nicer than being called a virgin or a whore, but it's still pretty limited as choices go. But in thinking about my friends and my own daily behavior, I think the reality is that there is a little bit of both archetypes in all women. Some of us master home decor projects but also sing the praises of ready rice. Others soldier through strife with astounding dignity and wouldn't know how to frost a cake if their lives depended on it. My own mother diligently sewed every Halloween and Purim costume but I have never seen her use a mop.

As someone who takes great delight in scoring a bargain and who just bought her first kosher, all-natural, 9.5-pound turkey and prides herself on delicious matzah ball soup from scratch, I mostly fall into the Balebusta crew. Of course, when it comes time to wearing that bargain, I will gladly throw on the heels and pearls and strut with the best of 'em. Maybe I'm just a very down-to-earth princess.

A Ringing Endorsement of Festivus

2008-11-10T19:29:00.002-05:00

Now that Halloween and the momentous elections have passed, American society has sprung into full-force holiday mode. A bevy of celebratory invites, toy sales and an extra helping of guilt have no doubt inundated many of you, dear readers. And if they haven't yet, just give it another week or two.

Sure, there are only 43 days to go before the big C, but that is still no explanation for the three dozen emails that jammed my inbox today and proved that no matter what you celebrate, people take the holidays personally. A friend's suggestion to give a large public party a reindeer theme, sent the non-Christian faction off on a bit of a tirade how even seemingly secular symbols like Rudolph, stockings, mistle toe and trees still have a Christmas connotation for those outside the nativity scene fence.

Had this discussion surrounded a private party, at someone's house, it probably would not have bothered me at all. If my friend wants to invite me to a Christmas-themed holiday bash, that's cool with me. Pass the egg nog and but don't expect me to carol. Likewise, when I hosted a Shtetl Fabulous Hannukah soiree last year, the whole gang played dreidel and ate latkes, but only the Jews lit candles.

One friend in the group asserted that religiously-based holidays should remain religious, the whole keep the Christ in Christmas thing. And while I'm no fan of Hanukkah Harry myself, I believe that if you're going to make a place for one faith in a party that is open to the public, then there should be a place for all faiths.

This is why I advocate for broader observance of the grand holiday of Festivus in the public square (no disrepect to Chabad's menorah displays, those entertain me profusely). Somehow a holiday where the ritual observances include adoration of an unadorned metal pole, airing grievances against loved ones and wrestling in feats of strength speaks to me. Maybe it's because many family gatherings often devolve into shouting matches anyway and by sanctioning these from the start, there would be no hard feelings. Or maybe it's because covering a paper towel roll in aluminum foil would be so much cheaper than a menorah (or a kinara or a tree for that matter).

I had always thought checking out everyone's individual family or ethnocultural holiday traditions were pretty much the biggest perks of the holiday season. Even though I've never really celebrated Christmas, I always dug those Swedish girls with burning candles on their heads. And observing Kwanzaa has been one of the coolest experiences of my life. I can't wait to find out what Danish gluck is from my friend and maybe I will bust out some cheese to celebrate Judith's beheading of the evil Assyrian general Holofernes.

Until then, deck the halls for some peace on earth over eight days because a great miracle happened there. Then reflect on the principles of Nguzo Saba and pour a libation and do whatever it is people do for Diwali, Tet, Carnival and more until it's time to do it all again next year.

President for the iPod Generation Indeed

2008-11-06T21:43:00.004-05:00

What appears below is a guest post from my sister, the Magyar McGuyver, who was similarly inspired by the election, albeit in a musical way. Because who doesn't love a trilogy?

For those who don't know me well enough, I am not only a hardcore Democrat but also a fan of specialized and event specific playlists.
Inspired by this historical election season I have compiled my Election 2008/Obama Playlist.
Several selections were chosen purely by title but all relate to Tuesday night's event.
Please to enjoy...

1. Movin' On Up - theme to The Jeffersons (the initial inspiration for the list and what I think Obama should have made his acceptance speech entrance to)
2. This is How We Do It - Montell Jordan
3. Whose House? Run's House - Run DMC
4.Don't Stop Believing - Journey
5. Ain't No Mountain High Enough - Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell
6. We Art the Champions - Queen - to the Democrats
7. The Art of Losing - American Hi Fi (a dedication to John McCain and Sarah Palin)
8. Sex Machine - James Brown - because Barack is a little foxxy
9. Bust A Move - Young MC
10. Invincible - Ok Go
11. California Love - even though Prop 8 passed they still made it happen
12. Changes - David Bowie or Deftones depending on your preference
13. Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta - Geto Boys
14. Dirt Off Your Shoulder - Jay Z - because Obama is a little of a pimp now
15. Don't Stop Me Now - Queen
16. Faith - George Michael
17. The Fix Is In - OK Go
18. Forces of Victory - Gogol Bordello
19. Sweet Home Chicago - The Blues Brothers
20. Get Up And Boogie - Freddie James
21. Hallelujah - the badass EMF version
22. The House Wins - Ok Go - because the Dems dominate the House
23. I'm Not Crying - The Flight of The Conchords
24. It's a Long Way to the Top - AC/DC - because it was a long way there
25. Joy to the World - Three Dog Night
26. Let's Get Stoned - Joe Cocker - for the people of Massachusetts
27. Dance to the Music - Sly and the Family Stone
28. My Generation - The Who - because we Baracked the vote!
29. Politician - Cream
30. Play that Funky Music - KC and the Sunshine Band (he could have also made an entrance to this)
31. Ready or Not - The Fugees
32. So Sorry - Feist (my condolences to the Republicans)
33. Star Spangled Banner - Jimi Hendrix
34. Tuesdays Gone - Lynyrd Skynyrd - and isn't it a lovely Thursday
35. Volunteers - Jefferson Airplane - I feel for the poll workers
36. Shook Me All Night Long - AC/DC - I seriously thought I was going to have a heart attack Tuesday night
37. Heat of the Moment - Asia - the ultimate celebration song in my opinion
38. Cold Hard Bitch - JET - Sarah Palin anyone?
39. Don't Look Back In Anger - Oasis - get over it Republicans
And last but certainly not least...
40. Solid (Solid As Barack) - Maya Rudolf and Fred Armistes on Saturday Night Live

If you have any suggestions or additions for the Magyar McGuyer, just leave a comment and I'll make sure she gets it.

Speechless

2008-11-05T17:43:00.003-05:00

The last two years have crystallized in an incredibly powerful way for me in the last 24 hours. The news of the country's decision to elect Barack Obama as our 44th President of the United States still sends shivers down my spine. It's hard to distill all my thoughts, feelings and ideas into a really coherent post and I know bloggers the world over have a tremendous amount to digest over the next few days. Here's my attempt at getting my head around this amazing time in our history.

1. For many of my peers born after 1979, this is the first election we have voted in where the candidate we voted for actually won!

2. Michelle Obama is not the new Jackie Kennedy. The woman has a Harvard Law Degree. I think she will be more of a Eleanor Roosevelt/Hillary Rodham Clinton hybrid with a much better wardrobe and haircut. To have a woman with a formidable mind, who raises two young children and is an equal partner to her husband, all while sporting a fabulous look - I'm inspired!

3. How dare people boo at the McCain rally! John McCain fought a really tough battle and while I recognize their sense of loss, they have no right to then push their candidate into a corner defending Obama (again). I have to say that McCain's speech was very touching and brought a tear to my eye. He sounded like he did back in 2000 - when he may have been a really fantastic president.

4. I recognize that Barack Obama is going to make a few mistakes and I hope the country as a whole will be able to say that too. But none of those mistakes merit calls for impeachment, censure or assassination.

5. I would be remiss if I didn't talk about race in this post. As a white woman who encountered minimal racism until her adult years, I feel inept in discussing the ramifications of this election for the African-American community. So rather than fumble through it, I'll leave that piece to Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and his essay this afternoon on NPR.
Here's an excerpt... "But there is one thing we can proclaim today without question: that the election of Sen. Barack Obama as president of the United States of America means that The Ultimate Color Line has, at long last, been crossed. It has been crossed by our very first postmodern Race Man, a man who embraces his African cultural and genetic heritage so securely that he can transcend it, becoming the candidate of choice to tens of millions of Americans who look nothing at all like him."

6. As we celebrate today the obstacles overcome in the frontier of race, I cannot ignore the disturbing, frustrating and saddening results of many state ballot measures regarding gay marriage, including the nefarious Prop 8. Outside California, Florida, Arkansas and my home state of Arizona shamefully passed dehumanizing legislation either amending their state constitutions to ban gay marriage or limiting the rights of homosexuals.

In 40 years from now, though maybe sooner, as our country elects its first openly-gay president, don't we want to be there - crying tears of joy at the battles we fought? We have had an MLK to a lesser degree in Harvey Milk (biopic due soon), and our Oprah in Ellen. But where will our Jesse Jackson come from? Our Shirley Chisholm? Are we going to march on Selma? On Washington? This is our civil rights battle and I hope that 40 years from now, I can talk to a young person and tell him/her what I did when the call came.
Will you answer the call?

Friending with the Enemy: An Election Day Meditation

2008-11-02T22:06:00.000-05:00

As we prepare for one the most-anticipated elections of the modern era in America, I wanted to invoke a political conversation that goes a little beyond Obama vs. McCain. Besides, I figured everyone reading this blog already knows my political proclivities.

In the real world, friendships are built on shared interests, time spent together and mutual admiration or respect. Meanwhile, in the Facebook world, something as simple as a five-minutes chat at an acquaintance's party is enough to establish a "friendship." Having sat across from one another in a crowded lecture hall or being ninth grade lab partners also is enough for two otherwise estranged people to establish a solid friendship based on frequent status updates and mini-feed stories.

So what happens when you learn a Facebook friend has political opinions so diametrically opposed to your own that you cannot fathom maintaining a friendship with them in the real world? Delete him was my all-too simple solution this week when a guy I went to high school with expressed his stauch support of California's Prop 8 via his status and profile picture.

For those unfamiliar with this despicable piece of proposed legislation, Prop 8's proper title is "Eliminates Right of Same-Sex Couples to Marry" and states that only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California. Charming, huh? This after the California Supreme Court ruled in May 2008 that such statues violate the California Constitution under the equal protection clause.

The debate over allowing two loving people of the same gender to legally enter the bonds and to enjoy the rights of marriage has raged in California for decades. Governor Schwarzenegger has twice vetoed acts to allow same-sex marriage but in the five months since the Supreme Court ruling went into effect 16,000 couples have celebrated their human right to marry.

Activists on both sides have come out in full force and according to US News and World Report, "The campaigns for and against Proposition 8 raised over $60 million with campaign contributions from over 64,000 people in all fifty states and more than twenty foreign countries, setting a new record nationally for a social policy initiative and trumping every other race in the country in spending except the presidential contest." John McCain has publicly supported Prop 8, joining the Mormon and Roman Catholic Churches, the Orthodox Union, Newt Gingrich, a San Diego school district and an Asian-American group.

On the side of human dignity and liberty is the group Equality Now, whose supporters include Bill Clinton, Dianne Feinstein, America Ferrera, Samuel L. Jackson, the LA Times, California Teachers Association, Google, ACLU, NAACP, ADL and numerous faith groups.

What has made the fight over Prop 8 so disturbing has been the advertisements on behalf of its proponents. They have alleged that teachers will be allowed to educate about same-sex marriage if it is not expressly illegal. Hmmm... my AP History teacher made us read about murder in the Civil War. I don't think that made me think it was suddenly legal to kill people. Further, the Supreme Court decision protects religious policies and practices so no officiant would be "required to solemnize a marriage in contravention of his or her religious beliefs.”

We won't know until Tuesday (or Wednesday if we go to sleep early), the results of the Prop 8 decision. If you're reading this from the great State of California (the land of my illustrious birth), I implore you to vote with equality instead of bigotry, justice instead of hate, compassion instead of fear. And tell your friends.

Who Wants to be a Sexy Doughnut?

2008-10-30T21:14:00.002-04:00

The slutty Halloween costume has become so de rigueur that girls as young as 8 parade around, begging strangers for candy in outfits reminiscent of princesses, cheerleaders and devils with bare midriffs and nascent cleavage on display. But to those of us in our 20s and 30s, the concept of using Halloween as an opportunity to dress as scandalously as possible is as trite as the cultural archetypes the costumes represent.

Plenty of pundits and morning talk show hosts have opined on the oversexualization of school and teen age girls in the past decade and I'm not going to try to top them here. What I will bring to this ghoulish party are my laments about being a more zaftig girl on this holiday that celebrates excessive candy consumption but only after squeezing into a revealing get-up.

Though I am sure both Tony Bourdain and Duff Goldman would find a doughnut costume incredibly erotic, it might pale in comparison next to my 115-pound friend dressed as a sexy nun. At a Halloween party last weekend, a similarly voluptuous friend complained that she had to put a layer on underneath her store-bought costume because she just doesn't go out in spaghetti-straped mini dresses that stop several inches above the knee.

To Party City's credit, the curvaceous among us can select from more than 20 costumes that are cute but significantly more modest than the standard adult female offerings. Gals with great gams can cover up more on top and the well-endowed can sport the girls while covering up elsewhere. But being a chubby, slutty witch still leaves something to be desired in the creativity department.

Maybe I was spoiled by my family's extensive costume trunk, but I pride myself on never wearing a store-bought costume. I much prefer to piece together everyday clothes with thrift store finds, hand-me-down accessories and maybe a purchased prop. Somehow, I believe that trying on a new identity for a night means I should have to put in a little effort.

Sporting outfits like last year's eponymous Shtetl Fabulous costume (that look inspired my blog's banner) or this year's undead 50s housewife generally guarantees I will never end up as one of several pirates or fairies at a party and I get to use a little imagination. It also means I might not get laid after one of these parties... unless he really likes Krispy Kreme.

A Zamboni By Any Other Name

2008-10-26T20:37:00.006-04:00

Having a common last name certainly has its advantages. People rarely mispronounce Jones or Young. And how many ways can you spell Brown or Jackson? There must be a type of serenity imbued in those who stride through life as Smiths, Rogerses or Hamiltons (or even Levys). Their teachers likely never stumbled on their names when calling roll and they probably got made fun of a lot less.

Of course, the downside of a well-worn last name comes when it's paired with an equally popular first name. I've heard stories of Brian Johnson's within the same university getting someone else's transcripts and such people are incredibly hard to Google. So it should come as no surprise that plenty of parents decide to give their kids rather unusual first names to balance things out.

Perhaps the best example of this phenomenon can be seen in Vice Presidental candidate Sarah Palin's own brood of bizarrely moniked kids. According to the Washington Post, the mother of Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper and Trig always wanted another son named Zamboni. Maybe if Obama wins, the governor can go back to Alaska and conceive at the Wasilla ice rink.

But it's not just politicians or celebrities (they're a whole other category). I've seen startling evidence of what I hereby dub the "Kooky McDonald Syndrome" among my spawning peers. The last few months I have encountered an Ender, Jaxon, Finley, Lake, Stratton and Broc (and these are just the boys!).

What is it about human nature that leads to the Kooky McDonald Syndrome? Is it our deep desire to forge a unique idenity - schoolyard taunts be damned? With a one-of-a-kind name perhaps a person has a greater likelihood of making something of him/herself simply because he/she has had to overcome obstacles stemming from the name itself. Or is it because we just love to be the first ones to do something, i.e. the Christopher Columbus Corollary.

Though I have no idea what last name my own kids will have to endure (I'm not cruel enough to force hyphenation on them), I know my mother would disown me if I gave them any vocabulary words as appellations. Besides, with me as a parent I doubt they will need a name like Zamboni to be unique.

Unexpected Break

2008-10-24T15:27:00.002-04:00

Looks like I might take an unexpected break from the blogosphere for a few days. I was mid-post last night when my computer crashed. Despite the best efforts of my friend who doubles as an IT troubleshooting guru, my poor Dell decided it was done working for the time being.

Hopefully, another techie friend of mine can make more headway in person and I will triumphantly return to blogging next week about any of the following topics: bizarre first names of non-celebrities, ethics: the next frontier in keeping Kosher, or the mysterious story of human feet washing up on the Vancouver shore.

In the meantime, maybe this is God's way of telling me to take a break or to sit at Barnes and Noble and write long hand all weekend.

Random Observations

2008-10-20T10:15:00.001-04:00

I'm headed to the City this evening to spend a few days with my grandparents and to see some friends while I enjoy time off for the Jewish holidays. Since I won't have computer access and since my life is bound to be uber-crazy upon my return, I figured I would just offer a few random observations for your reading pleasure.

1. If I haven't said it already - The Great Schlep is the single funniest and most clever thing to come out of this interminable election cycle. See, I needed to add on that "clever" lest you try to say that Sarah Palin's incessant winking and general cougarism is funnier. Anyway, The Great Schlep recruits young Jewish adults to Florida to visit their grandparents (and other people's grandparents) and talk with them about voting for Obama. It includes a hilarious video from Sarah Silverman and proves the incredible power of the Internet to galvanize people around a cause.

2. I watched the new Rolling Stones documentary, "Shine a Light" the other night and was incredibly bored. The movie is essentially a Rolling Stones concert featuring an entirely-too-old Mick and Keith belting out their tunes one more time for the sheer profit it provides. Guest appearances from Jack White and Christina Aguilera were the highlights, the rest just seemed a little sad. The movie did demonstrate however, that Scorsese is the most nebbishy Italian ever.

3. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I have noticed lately that my single friends are an endangered species. Every week, at least 5 friends of mine celebrate some milestone and I have evidence on Facebook. Two friends had babies on Thursday, a college buddy got married on Friday and Sunday featured no less than one set of engagement photos, one set of wedding photos and one set of pregnant photos.
To my remaining single friends - please keep mentioning bad dates in your status updates and posting pictures of drunken cavorting. It balances everything out.

Hope these little vignettes satisfy your Shtetl Fabulous jones (if you had one in the first place) for the next few days. In the meantime, chag sameakh and enjoy Simchat Torah - the other Jewish St. Patrick's Day!

Proof of My College Minor

2008-10-17T20:47:00.001-04:00

Whoever said getting a minor in film would be totally useless? Here's my second movie-related posts in a row; my U of A Media Arts professors would be so proud.

Earlier this week, I saw the newest teen dramedy that’s OK for Gen X adults to like too, “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist.” Based on a novel written by a guy from Short Hills, New Jersey and his gal-pal, N&N is about two jilted teens who find each other and a shared love of music over the course of one very long night in New York City. My company for the film was great and I enjoyed the witty sarcasm that has become the acting trademark of both Michael Cera and Kat Dennings. If you haven't seen it yet, read the NY Times review here.

Ostensibly, “Nick and Norah” aims to capture what it means to be a teenager at this precise moment in time. Like so many teen movies of the past, “American Graffiti” and “Can’t Hardly Wait” instantly come to mind, music plays an integral role in the lives of the characters as they ramble from one adventure to another, forging nascent sexual identities and testing the limits of their alcohol tolerance.

Where N&N takes a major departure from its genre is in its unabashed portrayal of one character’s Jewish identity. (Coincidentally played by Dennings who is Jewish and whose real name is Katherine Litwack. Sorry girls, Cera, who played Jewish characters in both Juno and Superbad, is of Quebecois/Sicilian extraction.) Back in the 1980s, Brat Packers were categorically WASPy and devoid of overt religious or ethnic markers. In the 90s, teen movies acquiesced to the burgeoning diversity of American high schools by adding the token black or Asian character who generally remained in the background and certainly never got the guy/girl.

Now as the first decade of the 21st Century is winding down, we increasingly see explicit representations of minority cultures in our films and television shows... at least for the Jews. Orthodox rabbi cum author cum radio personality Shmuley Boteach had a brief program on TLC called "Shalom in the Home" wherein he counseled families on overcoming problems. He also calls himself America's Rabbi, this when Jews are only 2 percent of the population. VH1 featured a documentary called "So Jewtastic" back in 2005, an entire episode of "Entourage" centered on Yom Kippur observance and a new book called, Cool Jew is billed as the Preppy Handbook for the Semitic set.

So it should have come as no surprise when Norah of Nick and Norah began expounding on her interpretation of tikkun olam (Hebrew for repairing the world) to her non-Jewish paramour. Who knew an 18th Century mystic and the cornerstone of every Jewish youth group would come together in film so post-modern that the hetero male lead is a member of a queercore band and everyone is in love with a band that borders on Howard Hughesian reclusiveness?

In the movie, people replace the pieces in the broken vessels central to the notion of tikkun olam. Therefore, romantic encounters in effect help to repair the world by bringing more love into it (even if that love is for a band named Where's Fluffy). Double mitzvah indeed!

"Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist" may do little more for the Heebs than the Wailing Wall as blanket scene in "Garden State," but it's still a sweet film. And if it makes one Jewish kid in the audience feel a bit better about being a member of the Tribe, all the schmaltz seems worthwhile.

When Climbing Out the Window Just Won't Do

2008-10-11T15:06:00.002-04:00

You know her and you've seen her in action. From Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's to Kate Hudson's ethereal groupie Penny Lane in Almost Famous and Natalie Portman's character in Garden State, she is there with her zany outfits, upbeat personality and irresistible cuteness. She's the Manic Pixie Dream Girl and film critic Nathan Rabin recently coined the term to describe this particular subgenre of cinematic female who is adorable, giggly and apparently loved by brooding men. In an interview on NPR he said of the MPDG, "they don't live lives, they don't have careers. They just frolick and have fun."

Rabin goes on further to assert that these young women (yes, they are always young and always women) primarily exist to enliven the protagonist, inspire him to action and help him along with a wink and smile rather than persuing her own interests. She is the classic muse, free of complication or depth. Generally, the viewer either falls head-over-heels in love with the girl or spends the remainder of the film plotting her demise.

My first reaction to hearing the NPR story was relief - finally there was a name for my extreme dislike of every character Kirsten Dunst has played. Then, I began to think about if and how the Manic Pixie Dream Girls might really function in the world. Sooner or later, cuteness fades and government cheese is simply lousy for your complexion. Eventually even the white knight wants someone to take care of him and my guess is that MPDGs can't cook.

There are some variations on the theme. There's the MPDG with deep flaws like Parker Posey's alcoholic in Party Girl or Drew Barrymore's entire career (on screen and off). We have the reluctant MPDG such as Winona Ryder in Reality Bites who inspires two men and doesn't know what to do with herself. There may be a Manic Pixie Dream Guy like Duckie from Pretty in Pink or Jason Schwartzman's Max Fischer in Rushmore.

As someone who would rarely be described as flighty, bubbly or fragile, I scoured my DVD collection and my Netflix queue for evidence of a counterpoint to the MPDG and I think I found her. She's Annie Savoy in Bull Durham. She's Barbara Bel Geddes as Midge in Vertigo. She's Frances McDormand or Janeane Garofalo in just about anything. She may not always get the guy or inspire a sonnet, but she frequently gets the last line. She is disarmingly real, multifaceted, unafraid of her own intelligence and confidence in her sexuality as a woman not a girl. At the end of the day, she doesn't even need an epithet to describe her. It's just not her style.

Though they sometimes irritate us, they inherently exist to endear us, which makes the MPDG incredibly hard to resist. Maybe it's because I relate more to the film's lead male who is a fellow writer, but I really enjoy watching Kate Hudson in Almost Famous. Not necessarily my all-time fave, but also never annoying. So who gets your vote for favorite Manic Pixie Dream Girl?

Just Say Ohm

2008-10-05T21:01:00.000-04:00

Forced by economics and scheduling to skip my beloved West African dance class for a few months, I grappled with how to fill the void in my fitness regime. I'd already been dabbling with yoga in the comforts of my living room and after a little research I settled on a yoga special - 10 classes in five weeks - at a nearby studio.

Images of a svelter, super toned me swirled in my head as I drove to my first class. Having really only done "power" or vinyasa yoga, I figured this stint would replace a few cardio sessions, including the dance class. Much to my surprise, this studio specialized in Iyengar yoga, a style differentiated by its copious use of props in poses, meticulous attention to pose detail and its non-flow style. I instantly experienced buyers' remorse and mentally ran through my calendar as I tried to figure out if I could fit in cardio at my regular gym and hour-long yoga classes. Sure, it was the absolute antithesis to yogic principles like mind-body harmony, but what can I say, I'm a little Type A and I wouldn't mind losing a few pounds.

Throughout that first class, I felt awkward folding Mexican blankets to a new degree of precision, threading my body around a folding chair, holding a foam block between my thighs and stretching out over ropes. I yearned for the intense sweat sessions my dance class provided and I agonized as to how I would burn the remaining calories.

As the weeks went by, I Outlooked my yoga classes and made them work with time at the gym or hitting the pavement. I also let go of my apprehensions and threw myself into a totally different way of exercising my body. Did you know twists improve digestion and have the same effect as ab work? Did you know inversions improve circulation and get your heart beating fast, just like cardio?

Besides these factoids and a bit of Hindi, I learned all kinds of new tricks (like putting my palms together behind my back with the pinky fingers on my spine and the backs of my hands cupped by my shoulder blades). I improved my flexibility, balance and posture and even saw a bit more muscle tone in my calves, stomach and upper arms.

While I don't know if I will ever be able to sit and meditate for hours on end, I did acheive sufficient inner peace to write this post without deviating into satire and I found the unending depth of yoga to be incredibly comforting. Everyone has his/her place in every pose and every pose has the infinite capacity to challenge you. Just as I reveled in mastering shoulder stand, my teacher introduced a new variation that rocked my world. Namaste indeed.