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1) Pope (Vatican) 2) University of KY basketball coach 3) University of Louisville basketball coach. Both Calipari and Pitino deny interest in new post and say they are focusing on basketball for now and not interested in trying to “move up” again after NBA experiences. I am a Democratic, Scotch-Irish and English; Caucasian, Presbyterian from mid-American. I am, in other words, the Bean Soup entree on the Cracker Barrel menu. With unsweetened tea. I don’t get the benefit of my edgy, fun or complimentary stereotypes A Jewish friend and law partner explained to me this weekend how a client pulled him aside and said, “You people are good with numbers, right?” He explained he was confusing Jewish for Asian stereotypes. Asians were good with numbers; Jews good with money.” But what are Presbyterians known for? Presbyterian is cooler to pronounce than Methodist and we have a more sophisticated fashion sense than Baptists. But who talks about such trivial stereotypes for Presbyterians? Caucasians? Who gets excited about ordering one scoop of vanilla ice cream on a sugarcane with no sprinkles ? Has any minority group ever in history tried to emulate the dress style of Caucasians. We pick the most obvious and normal manner to wear every article of clothing. It’s like we follow a set of clothing directions perfectly as we dress each morning. And the directions say in bold letters: “No improvising! You could hurt yourself and embarrass your parents. (For Caucasians only. Others disregard)
Mid-America is a good place to raise a family but isn’t considered an edgy place that inspires new artistic theories. I have yet to hear someone look at a piece of art and say, “That piece has a heavy Mid-American influence.” Or “That guy is the Andy Wharhol of Kansas.” Of course, we do get credit for Mom (and Dad) Jeans. Democrat? We aren’t described by our party to strangers as in “He’s above average height, stocky but not overweight, a big Republican.” I guess it is assumed it wasn’t a choice for us –and hence nothing noteworthy or special–and not to expect us to say anything very provocative politically. Which may explain the whole Republican idea that sexual orientation is a choice too. And why they like to talk so much about gay marriage—it is politically provocative. Democrats assume sexual orientation was inherited and pick less titillating and more mundane political subjects. Like filling potholes. Which is important but has never been a swing vote issue in a presidential campaign. And really, who wants to talk about filling potholes? OK, I do. Which brings me back to my lament that, basically, I know deep down that when Jack Kerouac wrote “The only people for me are the mad ones . The ones who are mad to live. Mad to die. Who never sleep or say a commonplace thing….” Kerouc probably wasn’t thinking of someone like me or my ancestors. On second thought, he probably was. And then thought of the Biblical verse about vomiting out the lukewarm. And then went on to write his famous passage. Paul Simon. A short little ordinary looking white guy. With a one syllable common first name and two syllable common last name. And then I remember not even Paul Simon is as bland as me. He’s Jewish and therefore, so I hear, probably good with numbers. Jerusalem is a loaded word. I could preface that with “these days”, but the reality is that it’s been a place of dispute more than peace. ”It has been destroyed twice, besieged 23 times, attacked 52 times and changed hands 52 times,” according to Wikipedia. If Jerusalem was a sporting event it’d be the must watch game of all-time. We’d be glued to the television wondering how it was going to end, cheering when our side gained the lead and screaming in dismay when control changed hands. The only thing everyone would agree upon is that the officials, those “independent” outside arbiters, were terrible. Sadly the sporting analogy is all too apt, religions are the teams, officials are foreign powers, and Jerusalem is the trophy. Why fight for this trophy? The agnostic doesn’t see a reason.
The golden Dome of the Rock on the right is one of Sunni Muslim’s most sacred sites along with the location of the Holiest of Holies for Jewish people. Just behind this is the Church of the Sepulchre one of Christianity’s holiest sites. Jerusalem and Israel as a whole is a place where assigned value trumps real value. The value of these places isn’t real, there aren’t $2 billion plus gold monuments like Shwedagon Paya in Myanmar. The land isn’t productive like Iowa. The riches don’t lie beneath the ground like in Venezuela. The country isn’t a paradise like Palawan. There is nothing tangible worth fighting for in Jerusalem or Israel. The reality is that if all of Israel were to fall into the ocean the world wouldn’t be affected. The problem is that people believe that it would affect us. Jewish people believe that theFoundation Stone in the Dome of the Rock is the meeting point of Heaven and Earth. Both Sunni Muslims and Christians believe that their prophet ascended to Heaven from Jerusalem. While these places have limited actual value, for the three of the world’s major religions, Jerusalem is priceless. Read the rest of… “Live Fast. Die Young. Don’t take helpful parking advice.” Ah, c’mon. Sure you do. Most of us have a deep down core spark of defiance in us that makes no sense. It’s part of what makes us cherish independence as Americans. We are a nation of immigrants whose ancestors were willing to sail across oceans to to come to America to be free and we take our freedoms seriously. We are a nation of independent minded risk takers and entrepreneurs who want to be allowed to do our own thing and subscribe to Ben Franklin’s motto, “Don’t tread on me.” But sometimes can take them too seriously—and even turn into a silly defiance that is taken to an absurd and pointless extreme. And that is not a helpful or enviable trait to have. What does that look like? I’m afraid I may have inadvertently found out myself yesterday while joking with a friend. Because joking, you know, isn’t always 100% joking. It’s usually at least 10% true, which is what makes the absurd distortion funny. There is a grain of truth to it. And sometimes it’s 15% true. Or even 50%.
To help me not waste more time since I was having trouble finding the location, I got a call when I was two minutes away helpfully explaining to me to “Park in the back. We are in the back so don’t park in the front.” I arrived and, as you can imagine where this is going, I was seized with the same urge in me that causes me to “walk on the grass” and “touch wet paint” when I see signs telling me not to. Part curiosity, I tell myself, but certainly part rebel. And so I parked in the front. I tried going in several doors but none—surprise, surprise!—led to my friend’s firm. I called him and asked again for directions to the office explaining in golf language, “I’m on the green but don’t want to four putt.” I walked all the way around the building, found the office and had a nice meeting. When I left my friend walked me to my car….And I kept walking and walked through the grass and mud as we had to walk around the hill on the side of the building to get back to my car which I parked in the “front” instead of the back as I was helpfully advised. My friend started laughing and asked, “Did you really still park in the front? Even after I told you it was a pain to walk up here to the backside of the building?” It was a rhetorical question but I took the bait and thought I would have some fun trying to explain my inexplicable decision. I went on a faux rant saying, “Look man, yeah, you told me where to park. But I’m 49 years old. Don’t you think I know how to park at my age? What are trying to say to me by talking to me that way? Do you think I’m an idiot or something? And, yeah, I interpreted the advice as you trying to control me. I don’t like being held down like that and controlled. I was sending a message by parking in the front against your advice. C’mon man, I’m not your monkey. I don’t roll that way. I park on my terms where I want to park for my own reasons and you need to get OK with that. Don’t be cramping my style by trying to micromanage everything about my life, like where I park.” We were both laughing at the absurd childish rant I was pretending to have…and said goodbye. And as I drove off, I realized that about 50% of what I said (as a joke)—deep, deep down in my murky inchoate psyche—was had a trace (or more than a trace) of truth to it. Wow! And completely ridiculous. But there it is. And something I need to consciously battle against in areas of my life that are more consequential than deciding where to park. So, my commitment to myself. Next time someone offers me helpful parking instructions, I am going to take them up on it. Maybe not ever detail but as a general matter if I am told to park in the back, I will at least park in the back or on the side of the road and not in the front. And tell myself that it doesn’t make me a “sell out….to ‘the man'” if I do that. It will just make me 5 minutes earlier and keep me from getting mud on my shoes.
As I have grown up, the memory of watching Dr. King echoes through my mind every Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday. For this holiday, the words of “I Have a Dream” became even more poignant for me. This year, the holiday to honor Dr. King coincided with the Presidential Inauguration of an African-American President and I was fortunate enough to bear witness. The crowd in Washington, DC in 2013 must have mirrored the crowd on the National Mall in 1963. The crowd represented individuals of all ages, all races, all religions, all creeds from all states regardless of distance. It did not matter who they were, or if they knew each other before the event, the viewing of the inauguration was like a reunion between old friends. We joked about the trees blocking our view, we cheered with our first peek of Michelle Obama, and we shared stories about what this moment meant to us. The most moving part of the crowd for me was seeing the older African Americans. They had braved the cold, braved the crowd, and braved their health to be witness to history. As I watched the excitement on their faces, I wondered how many of them were able to witness Dr. King’s speech fifty years ago, not as a videotape as I remembered, but as a live event. The emotion of this moment for them was given away by their voices when they cheered, “Amen” during Myrlie-Evers Williams’s invocation. In fifty years, they had come so far from the injustices of segregation to having an African-American President sworn into a second term. The t-shirt vendors off the National Mall and streets of DC got it right. Their shirts had a picture of Dr. King and President Obama, with the caption, “Dream Fulfilled”. What a profound inaugural day. Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream indeed. The decorations are down, the kids are back in school, and the New Year’s resolutions have already been broken – yes, it’s time for the post-holiday blahs. But before you sink into a pit of January despair, feeling like there’s nothing fun coming up for ages, here are a few ‘glass-half-full’ thoughts to help keep your spirits up. – You don’t have to listen to any more Christmas carol muzak until at least next Halloween. – It’s much harder to get a sunburn in cold, foggy, gray weather – You have over 300 shopping days left. – The dreaded ‘fiscal cliff’ turned out to be as anticlimactic as Y2K – The kids are no longer sleeping til noon and then complaining they’re bored. – Your inlaws have all gone home.
Meanwhile, there are tons of minor Jewish holidays coming up which we are happy to share with everyone else. In fact, it feels like we have one every other week, although most of us couldn’t define more than a handful. So with this week’s video, I’ve tried to clarify some common themes among Jewish holidays, as well as providing some upbeat gospel music to start the New Year on a positive note. (And yes, I know Jewish gospel music is an oxymoron, but this is the era of fusion where genres and ethnicities get blended in everything from social groups to cuisine, so think of this as fusion Jewish gospel . . . )
I am honest enough to admit when I’m wrong, and boy was I ever wrong to deny the “War on Christmas.” Thanks to David Frum for helping me see the light and realize my sad, sad role in this international conspiracy. I’ve written extensively at this site and The Huffington Post about the liberal, Zionist case for a two-state solution that provides for a Palestinian homeland on most of the West Bank, and a safe and secure Jewish State next door. Turns out an overwhelming majority of Israelis — 67% in fact — agree with me. From The Times of Israel:
Click here for the full article. Disclosure and children. How much is too much? How little is not enough? As with most things, it’s a delicate balance and specific to the situation. One never should like to ones children. But one should probably never disclose gratuitous details that weren’t specifically requested. For example, a few weeks ago my son and I were on the topic, somehow, of Christmas song and which ones were probably best known.
That was an “appropriate, informative, and measured response” to share with my 18 year old. What I didn’t share with him is that my favorite Christmas song of all time is Christmas in Hollis by Run DMC. I just can’t resist the lyrics, “It’s Christmas time and we got the spirit And “My name’s D.M.C. with the mic in my hand But to have shared that, in my view, would have been a “parental over-share.” |
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I remember every Martin Luther King, Jr holiday, our teachers in elementary school would have us watch Dr. King’s famous speech from 1963. His voice echoing for equality was beyond an young child’s understanding, but his emotion was transcendent.
