By Jonathan Miller, on Thu Dec 27, 2012 at 2:00 PM ET
As the Washington Post explains, our newest U.S. Senator, Brian Schatz — recently appointed by Hawaii Governor Neal Ambercrombie to fill the unexpired term of the recently deceased Danial Inouye — is a Member of the Tribe:
Schatz is married to architect Linda Kwok Scahtz, and according to his official biography, the two have a son and a daughter together. He lists his religious view as Jewish on his Facebook page.
By Jonathan Miller, on Thu Dec 27, 2012 at 1:00 PM ET
#TEAMRP:
Just a few minutes ago, I returned to my office from my slightly extended Christmas holiday to find a huge brown UPS box on my desk.
After I dug through the styrofoam baubles, I pulled out the beautiful “Taste of Kentucky” gift basket pictured at left. It’s filled with delicious Kentucky Proud treats: Red Hot Roasters organic coffee, a box of Simply Kentucky Fudge, a gift bag of Bauer’s Modjeskas, a Blue Monday candy bar from Ruth Hunt, and my favorite — a Derby Pie: basically, a pecan pie with chocolate chips and a hint of bourbon.
Probably my monthly allowance of calories in one basket.
While I am in the midst of a fitness challenge against #TeamJYB3, it is always important to take a break from a diet every now and then, especially during the holiday season. Calculating the calories of just a few bites of the Derby Pie, I remembered that I hadn’t found a note identifying the kind, generous soul who would send me such a thoughtful gift.
I rooted through the box and found the card that had been displaced. Check it out after the jump:
Read the rest of… #TeamRP vs. #TeamJYB3 Fitness Challenge: J’ACCUSE!!!!
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Dec 26, 2012 at 8:30 AM ET
Twas the Night after Christmas
Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except a small mouse.
The stockings were strewn across the floor like nobody cared,
In hopes more money would be found insider there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While hip hop on new head phones danced in their heads.
And mamma and I, both feeling like crap,
Had tried for a night’s sleep but got no more than a nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my office chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I stumbled and then crashed,
But pulled myself up by the shutters and threw open the sash.
It wasn’t the moon’s shiny cast on gleaming white snow
But the local garbage truck, grinding it’s gears low and slow
It was a wonder to tired eyes when what should appear
But Santa’s magic clean up crew—instead of elves and reindeer
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be our garbage man, Rick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called the refuse angry names!
Darned boxes, darned paper, darned instructions and spoiled food
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now trash away! Trash away! Trash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a hydraulic waste collector, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the wrapping papers they flew,
With the truck full of excesses from St Nicholas’ crew.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from my perch
The pulling and grunting of the garbage truck’s helpers.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
I thought to myself, what a difference a day makes. In fact it’s profound
I love Santa, his reindeer and am thankful for the gadgets and bling
But this morning, Rick and his helpers seemed like God’s greatest Christmas blessing.
Read the rest of… John Y. Brown, III: The Night After Christmas
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Dec 25, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I wish everyone a Merry Mediocre Christmas.
Why?
Well, about 20 years ago I noticed that few people we truly enjoying the Christmas holiday season because so many were stressed out and anxious trying to achieve some sort of “perfect” or “idealized” or “amazing” Christmas holiday. And I felt bad pouring fuel on the fire by wishing them a merry Christmas on top of all that burdensome pressure. So I started withing people a “Mediocre Christmas.” And I think it takes the pressure off…a little. And we need that more than we probably think.
It’s not about how “fabulous” the presents are this holiday season. But about how fabulously present you can be to those most important. And sometimes a step back and a deep breath and a reminder that mediocre and present is better than fabulous and stressed out.
Now, if you think you can handle an unadulterated Merry Christmas, more power to you. Go for it. But otherwise, just know it’s not necessary and I don’t want my overly optimistic wishes to be an obstacle to you having a nice time with those closest to you this holiday season.
It ain’t about how many loved ones we can impress …but more about how many loved ones we can allow to impress us–without asking them to try all that hard to do so.
====
The benefits on the night before Christmas of having older children.
This is something that I did on the night before Christmas 7-8 years ago. That I will not be doing tonight. Thankfully. ; )
A True Christmas Story.
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Brown house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St Nick….well, you get the idea.
Anyway, it was a few years ago when my children were still Santa age (before Christmas became more of a business transaction) and my job was to work the wee hours of the morning to assemble a mini pool table for our basement and surprise our children Christmas morning.
I started around 1am. By 3am I was almost finished but realized I had assembled one of the short ends of the table upside down. So, I took it all apart and started over.
By 4:30am I was nearly finished again before realizing I had inadvertently assembled one of the long ends of the table upside down. I took a short break to say as many curse words under my breath as I could recall at that time of morning and got back to work a little before 5am.
I took apart the table again and decided to get out the directions this time. I followed them, but like following all directions, it slowed me down (although admittedly I didn’t make any mistakes this last time). No mistakes….but I did run out of time.
It was now nearly 7am and I heard feet pattering upstairs and cries of “Dad, where are you?” The kiddos were ready to see what Santa had left them….and weren’t going to give me another 30-45 minutes to finish up. Fortunately, I quickly thought of a brilliant solution.
A note. From Santa. Here’s how it read.
Dear Johnny and Maggie, Merry Christmas!! I love you both so much and hope you like all the presents I left you, including the miniature pool table. As you know, I have to cover a lot of ground tonight and in my old age don’t move as fast as I used to. I almost got the pool table set up, but had to leave before finishing to get to all the other children in the world. I left the last few pieces for your father to finish for you.Thanks for the cookies and milk.
Merry Christmas!!!S.C.
(My kids were excited but also skeptical and disappointed. My daughter suspected my handwriting. And my son knew if it depended on me putting something together, it might take all night).
By Lauren Mayer, on Tue Dec 18, 2012 at 3:00 PM ET
Just like the swallows returning to Capistrano, or the first lilacs of spring, once a year you can count on a few pundits at Fox to resuscitate their complaints about the “war on Christmas.” Once again, they claim their beloved holiday is under attack because a group of atheists lobby to remove a nativity scene from a city hall, or a school changes its Christmas concert to a Holiday concert. Come on, O’Reilly – for several weeks, starting on Thanksgiving and often before, this entire country is covered in an avalanche of candy canes, Christmas tree decorations, and holiday muzak. You can’t go anywhere without being bombarded by Christmas – if it’s under attack, it’s doing pretty darn well. (As Jon Stewart pointed out, since this year ‘Black Friday’ started on Thanksgiving, Christmas is now eating other holidays!)
Of course there are a few loonies out there, fighting the fact that a vast majority of this country celebrate Christmas. But for most of us non-Christians, we have nothing against the holiday and even accept that there will be tinsel, Christmas lights, and dogs barking Jingle Bells everywhere we go. We simply would prefer not to be bombarded with the more religious aspects of the holiday – sparkling lights and metallic ornaments are a lot more inclusive than crosses or baby Jesuses. And wishing people “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” makes us feel less left out, without taking anything away from Christmas. In fact, we hope you have a lovely holiday (while we eat Chinese food and go to the movies).
This week’s video tries to explain why your non-Christian friends might be getting a little cranky this time of year – so I hope you will please cut them (and me) a little slack!
By Jonathan Miller, on Tue Dec 18, 2012 at 2:30 PM ET
As you may have read, the malevolent jackasses at the Westboro Baptist Church have now chosen to further poison the American polity by picketing a vigil for the victims of the Newtown, Connecticut school shooting.
Here is their latest tweet:
Predictably, and of course most deservingly, the provocation has generated considerable outrage all over the Internet tubes.
Unfortunately, as my friend and social media guru Scott Clark writes , expressing our outrage online only helps this tiny group of extremist perverts further achieve its mission of spreading their anti-Christian gospel of hatred and intolerance:
Every time you share/like/comment on a post about the Westboro Cult, you boost their SEO and Social Media profile (yes, I recognize my role by posting this, but read on). This is precisely what they exist for – they know how to game the engagement algorithms online. Likes, Shares and Comments, Page Views, Click throughs, Good *or* bad publicity…they love it all. So stop.
So here’s my modest proposal. From now on, when you want to write something online about these malignant buffoons, refer to them as “The Recovering Politician.”
Such as posting on Facebook:
I hear The Recovering Politician is at it again — spewing hate and dragging the poor innocent souls of murdered children into its sinister plot.
Or on Twitter:
I think @RecoveringPol is the biggest douchebag in the country.
Give it a try.
Now that I’m out of politics I can handle the abuse. And I’d love to improve my SEO and Social Media profile.
By Lauren Mayer, on Tue Dec 11, 2012 at 3:00 PM ET
Latkes? Schmatkes!
This time of year makes many of us nostalgic for those traditions of our childhood, those Norman Rockwell-esque memories of stringing popcorn, gathering fresh pine boughs, and sharing our plum pudding with the Himmels. (Oh, whoops, that wasn’t my childhood, that was Jo March’s . . . )
Well, anyway, most of the time I’m not exactly the domestic type (I cook adequately, but Martha Stewart’s job is safe), but occasionally I get this uncontrollable urge to create a memorable Hanukkah for my family. Which is pretty silly, when you think of it, since it’s a minor holiday that only gets any attention because it’s close to Christmas, and the traditions associated with it are more appropriate to Las Vegas (gambling and eating fried food). But I still want my boys to have fond memories, so I hang up the dreidl garlands and put out the menorah tea towels and star-of-David potholders, and when I’m really ambitious, I make a batch of latkes. (Which I imagine is akin to my Christian friends deciding to make a Buche de Noel or homemade egg nog, something like that?)
Latkes, for you goyim, are potato pancakes – so just imagine your entire kitchen covered with oil splatters, flour, and bits of burnt hash browns, and you’ll get the general idea. You can find countless articles about how adequate draining or squeezing prevents splatters, tips on utilizing the potato starch left from the draining liquid, and recipes that require using a lab-quality timer, but it still always makes a mess, and I end up resolving never to do it again. But amidst the mess and debris, occasionally one or two come out halfway decently, and there is something almost religious about biting into a crispy patty of fried potato – plus you’ve got to love a holiday where you’re supposed to eat fried food!
Unfortunately, that bliss is short-lived, and the mess takes forever to clean up. (And the worst part is, my kids don’t even like latkes!) But at least this year I captured it on film, which may help remind me next year that the latkes are always crispier in someone else’s kitchen . . . .
PS “Latkes, Shmatkes” is the title track of my album of comedy songs for Hanukkah – available at www.laurenmayer.com, on amazon.com, iTunes, CDBaby, and Picklehead Music.
By Ronald J. Granieri, on Mon Dec 10, 2012 at 1:30 PM ET
He Sees You When You’re Sleeping…
So the RP called me Saturday morning with a question.
This one was about last week’s Office episode where Dwight Shrute relates the story of Belsnickle, the pre-Christmas visitor of German and Pennsylvania Dutch folklore.
Swathed in furs, this surly figure shows up at the door with a switch in hand, to swat bad children, scaring them straight so that they will behave in time for Santa to bring them presents.
Is that for real? He asked.
Oh yes, I responded (and of course checked Wikipedia afterward to be sure).
That of course led to the obvious follow-up question: WTF?
The short answer is, because German folklore is crazy. Read the original Hausmärchen from the Brothers Grimm if you want further proof.
The longer answer is because parents back in the day realized you needed something stronger than “now, now, Santa’s watching!” when they want to get the little one to behave in the run-up to the holidays. And part of me thinks those parents from days of yore had something.
Belsnickle is delightfully direct. No false threats or mind games.
Modern parenting has gone too far away from that in the world of holiday planning, preferring subtlety to an unsettling degree. The most modern surveillance state version of this is the Elf on the Shelf, who appears in a different spot in the house every morning, constantly watching children and reporting back to the North Pole
Somehow people think this idea of Santa’s CIA is cute and not creepy. What’s next, reindeer-driven drones? If so, we can even re-write famous carols, viz.:
He sees you when you’re sleeping… his drones fly overhead
They record every move you make, now does that fill you with dread?
Or
Here comes Santa Claus, Here Comes Santa Claus
From Langley, VA
He’s got a lot of clandestine intel
And could put you away!
Somehow, a fur-clad hobo with a switch doesn’t seem so odd or scary after all.
By Jonathan Miller, on Mon Dec 10, 2012 at 9:15 AM ET
As Jews around the county join with their families to celebrate the Festival of Lights, I wrote an essay for The Times of Israel celebrating the song that made Chanukah cool, and saved American Jewry (sort of…). Here’s an excerpt:
It was easy to understand why so many U.S. Jews – particularly our youngest – took refuge by fading into the multi-colored fabric of secularized Christianity that enveloped American culture. With Gentile discrimination so diffuse and subtle, the only remaining strident enemy in the 3,000-year battle for Jewish survival was, in fact, ourselves.
But then the 1990s brought forth a modern-day Judah Maccabee: Adam Sandler.
OK, I exaggerate just a little.
What the ’90s did bring was an army of modern Maccabees, in the form of prominent, familiar, likable Jews thrust into the pop media spotlight: Jews that were both clearly identifiable and proud of being both American and Jewish.
This helped produce a sea change in Christian Americans’ acceptance of their Jewish neighbors. In the vast center of the country where few Jews lived, ignorance previously had bred distrust and suspicion. Now, through the magic of television – and shows such as Northern Exposure,Beverly Hills 90210, Friends, and most prominently, Seinfeld – Jewish comedians, actors, and characters entered the living rooms of middle America. Rural citizens who’d never met a Jew before now “knew” dozens, and understood that “they were just like us” – maybe a bit wackier.
Just as significant was the impact on Jewish Americans. We could now hold our heads up a bit higher, feel a little more comfortable to publicly pronounce our faith. We were now the tellers of Jewish jokes, alternatively wry and self-deprecating, instead of divisive and mean-spirited.
It was a phenomenon that Jonathan Alter – in his famous 2000Newsweek cover piece heralding Joe Lieberman’s history-making Vice-Presidential candidacy – labeled the “Seinfeldizing of America.”
And at its epicenter in 1994 was a hastily produced, three-and-a-half minute musical segment on Saturday Night Live’s “Weekend Update.”
By Jonathan Miller, on Thu Dec 6, 2012 at 9:15 AM ET
Must read book review by Ashley Fetters at Atlantic.com about what’s bound to be my next Kindle purchase: Alan Light’s The Holy or the Broken: Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and the Unlikely Ascent of “Hallelujah.” Here’s an excerpt:
Click here to review/purchase book
Pop standards don’t really get written anymore. Most of the best-known standards were composed before the arrival of rock and roll; perhaps something about the new brand of mass-marketed, Ed Sullivan-fueled stardom just didn’t quite jive with the generous old-world tradition of passing songs around the circuit, offering to share.
So when an obscure Leonard Cohen song from 1984 was resurrected in the ’90s, then repurposed and reinvented by other artists so many times it became a latter-day secular hymn—well, that was kind of like a pop-music unicorn sighting.
Alan Light’s new book The Holy or the Broken: Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and the Unlikely Ascent of “Hallelujah” traces the bizarre cultural history of that very unicorn: “Hallelujah,” a song that lay dormant in Cohen’s vast repertoire for more than a decade before its popularity surged up again with a posthumous Jeff Buckley single. “Hallelujah” has metamorphosed over the years from a cheesy, reverb-heavy B-side oddity on an album Cohen’s label rejected to a mystical, soul-stirring pop canticle that’s played today at just as many weddings as funerals. Light reverentially details every stage in the evolution—and along the way, he reveals the compelling stories behind some of its most iconic interpretations.
So what’s your favorite version? The original Leonard Cohen? The Jeff Buckley masterpiece that made it famous? The mournful use of the song in Shrek 2 or the third season of The O.C.?
I will go first: As I reluctantly admitted in my column last year, Top 5 Pretty Boys I Begrudgingly Admire, I’m a closet J.T. fan, and his gritty collaboration with Matt Morris at the 2010 “Hope for Haiti Now” benefit concert is my second favorite performance in the Timberlake portfolio. (Behind, of course, his globally significantwork on The Barry Gibb Talk Show.)
Please share your favorite in the comments section. And to guide your selection, we’ve posted some videos below of the most popular renditions:
Read the rest of… What’s Your Favorite “Hallelujah”? Listen & Vote Here
Now, if you think you can handle an unadulterated Merry Christmas, more power to you. Go for it. But otherwise, just know it’s not necessary and I don’t want my overly optimistic wishes to be an obstacle to you having a nice time with those closest to you this holiday season.
Anyway, it was a few years ago when my children were still Santa age (before Christmas became more of a business transaction) and my job was to work the wee hours of the morning to assemble a mini pool table for our basement and surprise our children Christmas morning.
