Good Vuch Again

West Wing was a good show, art that imitated and gloriously exaggerated life; take this straight from the headlines example. Five years and a month ago - or so - a mention of West Wing here created a big in-blog discussion. I miss my blog community of yesteryear. Check out that golden oldie, Tangents- They're Not Just For Math Class Anymore (co-starring, in order of appearance: Rabbi Neil Fleischmann, Bob, Social Worker/Frustrated Mom, Anonymous, Shoshana, and Maayan).

I have been quite affected by my foot injury. It happened on 17 Tamuz, 11 days ago. One of the lessons I learned is that often we look at one thing as the main event and in fact we're looking at the distraction and missing what really matters. When someone faints the issue can really be what happened when they hit the ground, not why they fainted. If someone says their foot hurts from the collapse it may be a good idea to pursue that fact in your line of questioning.

I misspoke in my previous post. It's not the Ramban who says (on Parshat Matos/Matot) that the half tribe of Menashe were chosen by Moshe as emissaries of Torah, to live in the hinterlands as a good influence on Reuvein and Gad. The Ramban does say (in contrast to Ibn Ezra) that Moshe gave it to them, that they never asked for it (Ibn Ezra says that they asked but aren't mentioned at first since they were only part of a tribe). However, Ramban doesn't suggest any lofty reason why they were chosen, rather he says maybe it was because they had a lot of sheep. It's the Netziv who (as he often does) takes a bold leap and says the creative idea of Moshe planning their residing there as the first kiruv project in history (his comment is on Devarim 3:16).

Rav Hirsch has a cool comment on Masei, about how the phrasing flips around the wording of 33:2 - "And Moshe wrote their goings forth, stage by stage, by the commandment of G-d; and these are their stages at their goings forth - וַיִּכְתֹּב מֹשֶׁה אֶת-מוֹצָאֵיהֶם, לְמַסְעֵיהֶם--עַל-פִּי יְהוָה; וְאֵלֶּה מַסְעֵיהֶם, לְמוֹצָאֵיהֶם. He says that G-d wanted them to go because he knew that the next destination was key, on the other had they only went to the next destination because they were always unhappy where they were. Three years ago a dear friend of mine riffed on these words and Rav Hirsch's thought. My friend reflected about how human it is to always want to get out of one situation and into another, and then once we reach the other place we feel the need to move on to somewhere else. He aptly applied the concept to his own situation, after 9 months of planning for a baby the shift switched almost immediately to caring for the baby, and the bris celebration allowed a moment to pause and appreciate getting to one place for a moment, even while moving forward.

Random Question: A friend of mine recently started a discussion by asking people what they think of the terms sir or ma'am. No-one but me and him thought that there was any thing wrong with these phrases. I feel strongly that these are loaded terms that usually connote a sense of other-ness, often a sense of resentment - most often the resentment is that the person feels that you are over them, you're the customer or boss and they the lowly servant, or you're the old outdated person and they the sprightly one. What do you think?

It's time to say good night and may G-d bless. I hope that everyone had a good Shabbos. I hope everyone is as healthy as can be and is taking care of your health as best as possible. My recent injury was/is humbling. In a second from out of no place, something happened. Could I have prevented it? Not sure. It's not helpful to assume I didn't drink enough the night before - I drank a ton. And don't assume I overdid anything because I don't think I did. I'm hugely sensitive to the heat (and cold and noise and what people say about me and what I eat and and and and and) and need to remember that.

What is important in life? How do/should we rank what we put our energy into? Feel free to rank these privately or publicly but for G-d's sake and ours we need to think about what rates high and what doesn't: G-d, Family, Work, Leisure, Money, Friends, Spouse, Children, Parents, Siblings, Health, Weight, Beauty, Honor, Love, Exercise, Food, Prayer, Torah Study, Kindness.

"Slowly the Sabbath descends and in her hand the flower, and in her hand the sinking sun." (Click for link)

It's almost Shabbos and I'm feeling better than I was earlier today. Any up-and-around-ness is hard on my foot and by extension my whole being. I'm better due to some Tylenol (not too much, I listen to the news) some rest and a special boot I need to wear for two weeks. I asked the Dr. to explain to me exactly what the issue was, mainly so I could answer people who ask. He offered to do better and give me what the radiology place sent him. Here are the parts that made the most sense to me:

Non-displaced fracture of posterior distal tibia with marrow edema, soft tissue edema, tibiotalar joint effusion with synovitis, plantar fasciitis w/5 mm spur, achilles tendinopathy w/6 mm retrocalcaneal spur, posteriortibial tendinopathy w/tenosynovitis, tibiofibular ligaments demonstrate partial tear - anterior, partial tear of anterior talofibular ligament.

Blog-wise, it feels like 2005 because it's been a while since I've written the words, "I just found a blog I really like." It's called 3:17 a.m. and it was this post that got my attention, because the poem it addresses (which I posted here - along with another poem I really like - resonates for me).

The blog 3:17 A.M. remembers Marshal McLuhan, here, in honor of what would have been McLuhan's 100th birthday. McLuhan was known in the sixties for his scholarly yet accessible books. He became known to me and my peers via his appearance in Annie Hall. He was an expert on media and a a strong critic of TV, saying, "Television: A medium - so called because it is neither rare nor well done." Here's another example of McLuhan's wisdom: “Anyone who tries to make a distinction between education and entertainment doesn’t know the first thing about either.”

This being a leap year, I don't think there have been any double parshiot. I like the fact that each parshah gets it's own week. I disagree with those who feel that certain parshiot are not rich in content. Every parshah is pregnant with pearls.

On Shabbos I learned an essay in the wonderful sefer Ahavat Torah by Rabbi Chaim Sabato. He addresses the question of where the half tribe of Menashe come from in the story of getting land along with Reuven and Gad's tribes. When the appeal is made for the land only the two tribes are mentioned. When the wish is granted it has become two and a half tribes. Some are satisfied with the technical answer that because they were just part of a tribe they aren't mentioned at the outset. The answer that Rabbi Sabato likes and that I like too is that of the Ramban: They are not mentioned as having asked Moshe for land because they never asked. It was Moshe's idea to give put part of Shevet Menashe within the settlement of Reuven and Gad. They were separated from the rest of the Jewish People and Moshe was concerned for their spiritual health. He assigned part of Menashe to strengthen Torah in the community of Reuven and G-d. I find that fascinating.

I try to represent myself honestly to the world (and to myself, and to G-d). I think often about one of my earlier posts called Role 'Em, in which I discuss the face we present to the world.

While I was in with the doctor, my friend who drove me there (from one part of Jersey to another) explained that we were late because of traffic on the bridge. I know that's how the world works, and her words came from kindness. When I heard that, while I waited for the doctor who was treating another patient in another room (does anyone fall for that - thinking that you're actually being treated by the dr., just because they moved you to wait in one room instead of another?), I wrote these two haiku:

I don't blame the bridge

and I don't blame the subway

The blame stops here

I breathe in chaos

I breathe out and knock it down -

The wall blocking peace

Shabbos is approaching...

Turn, Turn, Turn

You can read my hot off the press

review of this beautiful book, here.

The Baby Calls You To Its Crib

Pain is pain, it's ageless

And loneliness has no face

We all cry from different cages

And the crying does not stop

Until we are touched

Besides everything

children are markers

something to hold

the years quickly fading

What Does This Picture Say To You?

Sadly, much of the food that we buy and prepare is not so healthy (understatement). And then we push food on others. I think we should never encourage others to eat (unless it's for health reasons, but I'm talking about regular people in a social situation). We often express love through food and food is often not the best gift to bestow upon those we love.

Oh Look, A Nice Tree!

Free association. Is there such a thing? It's the middle of the night - the post time will be the time I started writing this, that's the time that gets put in unless you change it. Pirkei Avot states that if you are sleepless in the night and open your heart to wastefulness then you are "mitchayav benafsho." I think I was doing O.K. with my own translating till that last phrase. Mitchayav benafsho is generally translated along the lines of "you don't deserve to live," literally it comes out something like - you are guilty for your life. The idea is that it's really bad to be awake late at night (the word used is "ha'neior," which I think means not just being awake, but being unable to be otherwise). What I translated as "and open your heart to wastefulness" is "u'mefaneh libo lebatalah ," in the Hebrew, and is generally translated along the lines of turning your heart to "batalah." Batalah is one of those things that is hard to define but you know it, or think you do, when you see it - all this after after a few days in yeshivah.

I had kind of a freak accident last week/weak and am still recuperating. I passed out from dehydration. It was at a burial on 17 Tamuz. They say that the dangerous part about passing out is not the fainting but hitting the dirt. They - for once - are right. Everyone wanted to know what was wrong with me, getting all literal minded on me, trying to diagnose me, making me feel very old. I knew two things; I was dehydrated and needed to drink and then drink more (I was going to write another "and then drink more" - but it felt like overkill, so, aren't you glad I didn't.) And I knew that my ankle hurt in a way it never hurt before and that this was something to which attention had to be paid.

Here I am, Powerade in hand, foot still hurting. It's the middle of the night. I pray that I never open my heart to wastefulness. I pray for us all.

If You Understand the Phrase "Sensing Changes in Your Hair and Nails," Let Me Know

Here's a new poem by a former poet laureate:

On the Nature of Understanding

By Kay Ryan

Say you hoped to
tame something
wild and stayed
calm and inched up
day by day. Or even
not tame it but
meet it halfway.
Things went along.
You made progress,
understanding
it would be a
lengthy process,
sensing changes
in your hair and
nails. So it's
strange when it
attacks: you though
you had a deal

Questions on Poetic and Emotional Elements of Prayer

by Rabbi Neil Fleischmann

Where in our prayers do we -

1 – ask G-d, “Nod your head to my blessing?”
2 - say, “we ended our years like a thought left unspoken?”
3 – ask that our dreams during sleep should not be bad ones (2 places)?
4 – proclaim that G-d’s anger is momentary and that He desires life?
5 - declare, “I am the servant of The Holy One, Blessed Be He?”
6 – beseech G-d to “”look down from Heaven and see how we have become an object of scorn and derision?”
7. mention G-d’s love for us.(list at least 3 prayers)
8. say, “True it is: the G-d of all time is our King?”
9. assert gratefulness to G-d for being there “when the pains of death oppressed me, when the straits of the grave gained hold over me.”
10. ask That G-d not place us in a situation where we need to receive gifts from people.

I just came across this picture I took in Washington Heights in the winter of '07. Seemed like a nice thought for this 100 degree weather we've been having. Is it just me or is it hard to imagine cold weather when it's very hot out and vice versa?

Pre Shabbos Thoughts

In H.S. a Rebbe of mine had a rule for everything (it was a phase). Once we were discussing the classroom prohibition of cursewords. Someone asked, "What about "hell?" The rabbi replies, "If it's said in reference to a place, like Poughkeepsie, then it's fine, otherwise - no." With that in mind I share with you a sign I saw, "Satan Called - He Wants His Weather Back." Indeed.

It's over 100 degrees today. It's so hot that even the most annoying people aren't asking asking anyone if it's hot enough for them. With all due respect to My Father In Heaven, from the POV of this character it seems a bit too hot.

I passed out from dehydration the other day. It was Shiva Asar BeTamuz. It was about 95 degrees and I was participating in burial of an old neighbor of mine, the father of a dear childhood friend. I wasn't thinking about the not eating, or the heat, I was feeling fine - until I wasn't. I walked a few steps from the freshly filled grave to the funeral home limousine and leaned against it. A minute later I saw a cloud of dust and felt everyone look at me as I hit the ground and quickly picked myself up.

There's got to be a respectful way to ascertain if someone is O.K. It feels humiliating to have a stranger talk use your first name and demand answers when all you want is to drink 100 gallons of Gatorade. ("Are you O.K. Neil? What happened Neil? How are you feeling Neil. Where do you live - NEIL?" I was placed in the backseat of the limo and given some liquid, and all I wanted was more and more to drink. I watched the kadish and nichum through the window. The officiating rabbi gave took an ace bandage off his foot and gave it to me. I rode home with my childhood friend and his family (my dad - may G-d bless him - still lives on the block) and drank three large bottles of Aquafina during the hour and a half ride. But enough about me.

It's almost Shabbos. I'm cocooned in the coolest room in my abode. I'm drinking as much as I can. Three days after the fall I saw a doctor about my pained and swollen ankle. He put a soft cast on it and checked it out with x-rays. He's seen worse, and yet it was important that he see it. I need to do R-I-C-E (rest, elevation, compression, elevation). So that's what I'm trying to do.

As Shabbos approaches I'm thinking about shamor and zachor, and how they relate to all of Torah and all of life. There's always the technical side of things, and then there's the spirit. We need to focus on both. And if we tend to one more than the other naturally, we need to push ourselves to properly respect the other side of the scale. This applies to every halachah. As we will soon recite, "Shamor Ve'Zachor Bedibur Echad." Rav Hirsch applies this to every mitzvah, their 2 components were each entrusted to us at once. On Shabbos as we try to do Shabbos and all mitzvot right; it's a good time to work on balance within ourselves. Some of us are Shamors and some of us are Zachors. Some of us want to answer and fix everything. Others want to appreciate the mystery and silence behind all that may appear to need fixing or answering. We all need balance. May we be blessed with balance this Shabbos.

Sun says goodbye every eve, but it's different on Fridays

Here comes Shabbos - it's going to be alright

Another few minutes and the noise will wash away

Both shamor and zachor are providing the soundtrack

Balance is within reach

Open our hearts, dear G-d - please

Shabbos' music is playing closer, soon we'll fly away home

HaMakom Yinachem

This heartfelt statement, filled with goodness, faith, and profound humanity may just make you cry:

The traditional seven intense days of mourning (“shiva”) for our beloved Leiby are complete, but the ache in our hearts will remain forever.

We thank G-d for the nearly nine beautiful years that He entrusted us with Leiby’s pure soul. We are certain that Leiby is now looking down from heaven and blessing us all.

We would like to once again thank all our friends and neighbors; all the selfless volunteers from near and far; local, city, state, and federal agencies; and all our fellow New Yorkers and beyond who assisted us physically, emotionally, and spiritually—as well as all of G-d’s children around the world who held our dear Leiby in their thoughts and prayers.

We pray that none of you should ever have to live through what we did. But if any tragedy is to ever befall any of you, G-d forbid, you should be blessed with a community and public as supportive as ours. We feel that through Leiby we’ve become family with you all.

More Three Week Thoughts

I am always torn when it comes to blogging parts of books. On the one hand there is the idea that people who put out books don't want you giving them away for free. On the other hand, books are about ideas that the writer wants people to hear. Also, if people get snippets for free, it increases the odds of their buying the book.

I highly recommend that you buy Erica Brown's In The Narrow Places. And think about her essays and suggested assignments. I also suggest that all Jewish libraries and schools have this book. It would be very helpful for teachers and students and camps to have this book around and address the soul of the matter, as Brown so strongly implores us to do.

Here is a piece of Brown's recommended "kavanot" for days two and three of The Three Weeks:

2. ‎"Think about a way you oppressed someone with your words. Just one incident. Now search for a way you can find a tikkun, reparation for that hurt. Heal it by using words with that same individual today." - Thought for second day of Three Weeks from In The Narrow Places by Erica Brown

3. Make a list of ten principles through which you try to live your life. Now try to reduce it to five. Having done so, try to get the list down to three. How would you remind yourself of these three principles on a regular basis?

Finding G-d

Erica Brown's In The Narrow Places contains a thought for each day of The Three Weeks. Today, Shiv'ah Asar Be'Tamuz, she turns to Isaiah's entreaty to "seek G-d where he can be found." Brown writes:

Seeking is about discovery. Isaiah tells us to seek G-d where G-d is to be found. Think about where you might find G-d. People have a custom to pray and study in a makom kavua, a fixed location or place, every day. The idea is that we create spaces that are receptive to spiritual activities, where we have all that we need: the right light, the right balance of privacy and companionship, the right amount of noise or silence to induce spiritual behaviors. Think hard. Where does G-d seem most apparent in your life? What times and places seem more open and receptive to spiritual seeking and finding? Recreate those times and spaces and make your own makom kavua.

Beard Poem
by George Carlin

(recalled from my childhood)

Here's my beard.
Ain't it wierd?
Don't be sceered,
Just a beard.

I grew my beard when I was 24. One year, just a few years after I grew it, I shaved it off pre-Pesach and then grew it back during the Omer. Today I shaved my beard. It evokes a lot of feelings and thoughts for me. My mom (OBM) used to ask me to cover my beard with my hands so she could see me as I looked pre-beard. I kind of like my beard, but not when it gets too long. One student once said that he feels that it's appropriate for Rabbis to have beards. I hear what he's saying, and yet it's a slippery slope. There's a long post that will stay in my mind for now - lots of free associations flowing. I need to cut myself off. Tomorrow is a fast day as well as the funeral of the father of a dear friend. I need to sleep.

Assorted Thoughts

The Rambam was six years old when Rabi Yehuda HaLevi died. In his biography on HaLevi, Hillel Halkin imagines an aged Rabi Yehuda HaLevi holding an infant Rambam. HaLevi is one of our Torah giants. Halkin does a great job of discussing this man, his milieu, and his work. Poetry and a poetic sensibility seem to be at the center of a proper of understanding of HaLevi.

The term neo-Platonism came up at my most recent Shabbos dinner. Of course. Someone expressed great displeasure with the popular frum dichotomy between body and soul. She said that it's not found in Torah or Chazal, the the terms ruchniyut and gashmiyut are not originally Hebrew, but are translations of concepts that are not integral to Judaism. This resonated for me and reminded me of a poem I once wrote (before the leaves that were green turned to brown). I'll include it at the end of the post to avoid distraction.

A Shabbos guest of mine was learning and "giving over" Torah of the Mei Shiloach. I've heard of the sefer via Shlomo Carlebach and his students. The present rabbi of the Carlebach Shul likes to teach from this sefer as does the Rav who gave me smicha. His thoughts on the episode of Pinchas' act of zealotry are among his most controversial and difficult to understand. I just wrote the vort and it disappeared, and I'm going to take that as a sign.

What is memory, and what is experiences that remain? I feel like I don't remember much of anything, but that which I experience stays with the the way barnacles stick to a ship. Some like this about me, some really don't - some like it sometimes but not others. Sometimes I like this aspect of myself, sometimes it feels burdensome. Sometimes I think people who don't experience things strongly and then don't remember them are blessed. Sometimes it hurts when someone tells me something deeply personal or experiences a deep moment with me and it doesn't stay with them. Sometime I do a magic trick - I tell people things about themselves that they are shocked that I know. The trick is that I was there when they told me, very there.

For me it's too early - and there may never be a time that - to have anything to express other than sadness and an acceptance of G-d's will regarding the crazy and tragic abduction and murder of a child in Borough Park last week. It seems disrespectful in several directions to be use this tragedy in way way as part of being pedantic or mussar-ey.

Remembering is a form of forgetting. We experience and process things we see, hear, do and feel and then we rinse, repeat and integrate until we're convinced that the story we tell is the one we lived - and we did, but the fact that we lived a memory doesn't mean that it happened the way we went through it. Like a wave, everyone gets hit by events differently, by another part of the splash.

I think I like stories best when they don't have a plot. I can spin a yarn because I know people like that. And I can enjoy twists and turns of narrative. My favorite part though is the capturing of characters and scenes. This is why I love the movie (that many found slow and un-special) Going In Style, which I saw many years ago and just watched for the second time.

Are Those Rubber Sole Shoes?

By Neil Fleischmann

n

One day my body

will fall away

like a peanut shell.

That's what I learned

in my yeshiva days.

n

Those were just words,

and that was long before

the nut started cracking,

filling with dotted lines

to tear upon.

n

Those were just words,

spoken without due respect

to "the irrelevant piece",

"the unessential

the husk."

n

I'm 45 and it's 7:20

treadmill sweat trickles my head.

I self inflict pain because I -

the rider and the horse -

I want to stay alive.

This Date

Six years ago today I wrote from the lobby of the Homowack, "Don't be too sweet or people will eat you."

Five years ago on July 17, I posted about the theme of replacement in Parshat Pinchas.


On July 17, 2007 I shared the following haiku (in a different version) and 9 other thoughts:

Get out or stay in

Either way was hard to win

Time to learn to swim

On this date three years ago I wrote about the newly appointed poet laureate.

Two years ago today it was time to say Good Shabbos, and to vent about weight and Weight Watchers. Kishke weighed in on the issue. I wonder how he's doing in the weight department and in general.

I find it hard to believe but it seems that last year I didn't post in July until the 19th, when I posted some Tisha B'Av time thoughts.

All Quiet on the Blogger Front

Wishing Everyone

a Shabbat Shalom

This post needs no title, but maybe I should call it "After the Poetry Reading" or "This Came to Mind Tonight," or "It's Soo True!"

The Introduction
By Billy Collins

I don't think this next poem
needs any introduction--
it's best to let the work speak for itself.

Maybe I should just mention
that whenever I use the word five,
I'm referring to that group of Russian composers
who came to be known as "The Five,
"Balakirev, Moussorgsky, Borodin--that crowd.

Oh--and Hypsicles was a Greek astronomer.
He did something with the circle.

That's about it, but for the record,
"Grimke" is Angelina Emily Grimke, the abolitionist.
"Imroz" is that little island near the Dardanelles.
"Monad"--well, you all know what a monad is.

There could be a little problem
with mastaba, which is one of those Egyptian
above-ground sepulchres, sort of brick and limestone.

And you're all familiar with helminthology?
It's the science of worms.

Oh, and you will recall that Phoebe Mozee
is the real name of Annie Oakley.

Other than that, everything should be obvious.
Wagga Wagga is in New South Wales.
Rhyolite is that soft volcanic rock.
What else?
Yes, meranti is a type of timber, in tropical Asia I think,
and Rahway is just Rahway, New Jersey.

The rest of the poem should be clear.
I'll just read it and let it speak for itself.

It's about the time I went picking wild strawberries.
It's called "Picking Wild Strawberries."

Before The Reading

Tonight I am reading at The Teaneck General Store on Cedar Lane. The reading starts at 7:30 and I'm on at 9:25, or so I'm told. I've been sorting through poems, trying to decide what to read. I once saw Dara Horn at a reading and she said she didn't get book readings because everyone there - presumably - could read the published books on their own, so she read an unpublished story. I was grateful for and inspired by what Dara did. I plan to do the same for the most part, read from my unpublished (at least not in my book) poems.

I have lots of short poems about my dear friend - of blessed memory - Aaron Bulman. I'm thinking of reading the one below, although I like this one, in his voice, a lot. I don't know. When I read the poem linked to in Aaron's shul soon after he died, Rabbi Ellis Block was shaken, as though he'd seen and heard a ghost because he felt like the poem really was Aaron speaking.

The poem that follows is mostly my voice.

Aaron

Sunday morning
Has become Aaron's time
To visit me
Since he died
"Oh, I've always been overweight" -
Matter of fact, charming, real
The way he did everything
I don't remember what day that was
That he made that comment
About being fat
There were so many comments
There were so many days
I'd say all too few
But he wouldn't like that
“What do I have left to live for
My life has been so complete”
We found it weird to hear that
Aaron could sound a bit weird
This was just a bit more
Suffering from mono
Losing so much weight
Body weight, life weight
Dangerously thin he was
And he knew it, it seems
We didn't
So we grimaced
And mocked
Lovingly
As he spoke
About being kept alive
By late night radio
And cigarettes
It seems like a joke
A joke he would've loved
That no-one else got
His kind of joke
“Don't you get it - see
I'm dead”
Aaron stop it
“Oh come on Shelley
I'm dead, I'm dead
I think that's great”

And my mind floats
Over thirteen years
My friend keeps talking
Like he always did
“Who's choice was it”
He asked me
When he barely knew me
And I lost my first job
And years later I told him
And he said just what I needed
Only “I'm sorry”
“This girl is ready
To spin nickels for you”
He told me, implored me
Citing Rebetzin Jungreis
In her Jewish Press column
Saying singles over 30
Need a push
So he pushed me
But never pushed me away
And never went away
He's come closer for me
On Sundays like this one
While the world oversleeps
Aaron blows through
My air conditioner vent
I smell his smoke
I hear him shout
I feel my pain
And he tells me it's OK
“You don't get it
Being dead is good for me
I didn't expect to like it
Who does?”

On Poetry In The Book "Room" (Spoiler Alert)

The book Room includes three poetry quotes, all delivered by a therapist named Dr. Clay.

The story is told by a five year old boy who was locked and hidden in the sound proof shed he was born in, but doesn't realize how horrible his situation was because his mother (who had been abducted and "kept") protected and loved him so well - and because he never knew anything else.

Jack turns five in the opening lines of the book.

"Today I am five. I was four last night going to sleep in Wardrobe, but when I wake up in Bed in the dark I'm changed to five, abracadabra. Before that I was three, then two, then one, then zero.'Was I minus numbers?'"

The first time Dr Clay uses an apt part of a poem to reflects back what he's hearing he says, "World is suddener than we fancy it," in response to little Jack's explaining that out it the world he doesn't like "sudden things." Jack's reaction to the quote is, "Huh?" (the usual human response to poetry). Dr. Clay says, "Sorry, just a line from a poem" (the usual response when one can't help but cite poetry.")

On another occasion Clay cites, "Human kind cannot bear very much reality," after Jack gets bitten by a bee that he stroked, and complains that the bees he saw on TV when he was in confinement never stung him. This time Jack asks him, "Is that a poem again?" and Clay replies,"How did you guess?" And Jack says, "You do a weird voice."

Late in the story Ma (we are never told another name for her) explains to Dr. Clay that, "All those years, I was craving company, but now I don't seem up to it." The good doctor says, "The Soul selects her own society - Then - shuts the Door - " Jack tells us readers, "That's his poem voice."

I really appreciated this piece of the book, the organic use of memorized and well digested poetry in life.

"The soul selects her own society, then shuts the door"

I looked this up after seeing a line cited in the book Room (page 314). I thought it sounded like Emily Dickinson, and I was right. (SPOILER ALERT) There's a therapist in the book named Dr. Clay whose character is made distinct by his habit of citing apt parts of poems as he reflects back what someone he's working is revealing to him.

The soul selects her own society,

Then shuts the door;

On her divine majority

Obtrude no more.


Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing

At her low gate;

Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling

Upon her mat.


I ’ve known her from an ample nation

Choose one;

Then close the valves of her attention

Like stone.

Commentary of Sparknotes

Whereas “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” takes a playful tone to the idea of reclusiveness and privacy, the tone of “The Soul selects her own Society—” is quieter, grander, and more ominous. The idea that “The Soul selects her own Society” (that people choose a few companions who matter to them and exclude everyone else from their inner consciousness) conjures up images of a solemn ceremony with the ritual closing of the door, the chariots, the emperor, and the ponderous Valves of the Soul’s attention. Essentially, the middle stanza functions to emphasize the Soul’s stonily uncompromising attitude toward anyone trying to enter into her Society once the metaphorical door is shut—even chariots, even an emperor, cannot persuade her. The third stanza then illustrates the severity of the Soul’s exclusiveness—even from “an ample nation” of people, she easily settles on one single person to include, summarily and unhesitatingly locking out everyone else. The concluding stanza, with its emphasis on the “One” who is chosen, gives “The Soul selects her own Society—” the feel of a tragic love poem, although we need not reduce our understanding of the poem to see its theme as merely romantic. The poem is an excellent example of Dickinson’s tightly focused skills with metaphor and imagery; cycling through her regal list of door, divine Majority, chariots, emperor, mat, ample nation, and stony valves of attention, Dickinson continually surprises the reader with her vivid and unexpected series of images, each of which furthers the somber mood of the poem.

H.O.T.D.

this bittersweet life

intoxicates me both ways

so bitter, so sweet

Once again I find myself with many drafts of posts. Someone once told me that I was the most metaphorical person he/she ever met.


I want to write about The Making of a Gadol, started to. Book's lent out - but I live in a glass house filled with long ago borrowed books, just as I have books of mine around the world on other people's shelves. For now this quote should suffice:


"Making of a Gadol separated the mature minded from those who never outgrew their childish thinking - the men from the boys: those who prefer sucking on fairy tales and myths from those who can swallow and digest reality and truth; those who must drug themselves then totter alone and stumble in the complex world of ideas, from those who are sober and unafraid and hold the outstretched hand of the gadol in order to take secure and firm steps in the spiritual domain. The gedolim whose image is raised by men convey their holy and clear message from between the lines of a good and kosher book, while the gedolim whom the boys conjure up never speak to their viewers, but remain in splendid silence while they float off in a mist of fantasy, and disappear." - Making of a Gadol, Improved Edition, pg. XLVI


Two years ago I had an essay on Parshat Balak published in the Jewish Week. I have the hardcopy of the paper, but can't find it anywhere in the computer. I even thought of transcribing it. If anyone can find it for me I'd appreciate that. It starts like this:

מַה-טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ, יַעֲקֹב; מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ, יִשְׂרָאֵל

How good are your tents, Jacob,

your dwellings, Israel

(Bamidbar 24:5)

I started a magnum opus style piece on the tree that is referred to in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I'm convinced that Betty Smith meant it as a positive metaphor, even though some call it "the tree from hell." This what Smith wrote in the introduction:


"There's a tree that grows in Brooklyn. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed falls, it makes a tree which struggles to reach the sky. It grows in boarded up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps. It grows up out of cellar gratings. It is the only tree that grows out of cement. It grows lushly...survives without sun, water, and seemingly earth. It would be considered beautiful except that there are too many of it."


I lived and learned in Jerusalem from the summer of 1983 through the summer of 1988. During that time once for my brother's wedding, once for my strabismus operation (should I have another one?), and maybe once more. All the visits were toward the end of the Israel stint. Today an episode from one of those times came to mind. I met up with a friend of mine and we saw Stand By Me. Then my friend drove me to visit a rabbi of mine from high school who had miraculously recovered from cancer. He meant a lot to me and I was excited to see him. My friend from college was lapsed from observance at the time and opted to wait in the car while I spoke with my rabbi. After a bit my friend changed his mind and buzzed to come upstairs. My rabbi wanted my friend to be comfortable so he said something like, "It sure is hot out isn't it?" - a shift from the Torah we'd been discussing (bekiyus vs. be'iyun - he cited Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer as saying that you should do both and added that great rabbis excelled in both). Then he made compromise conversation, Torah about the weather - and told the following anecdote:

The Gemorah speaks of how close Antoninus and Rebbe were. One time Antoninus asked Rebbe for a blessing and Rebbe said, "I bless you that you should not be affected by the cold." Antoninus said that that was a weak blessing, because not being affected by the cold could easily be accomplished by wearing extra layers. Then Rebbe gave Antoninus a blessing that he should not be affected by the heat. Antoninus deemed this to be a great blessing because even if you remove all layers, you'll still suffer the heat. My rebbe pointed out that this was the case until the amazing invention of air conditioning and how great an iinvention it was!

G-d I know You know

all I write and say and do

is a cry to you

IMHO - It's About Health

F Is for Americans Getting Fatter

By REED ABELSON

A new report issued on Thursday says Americans have become increasingly obese over the last 20 years. The report, by Trust for America’s Health, a nonpartisan advocacy group, and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, tracks the level of obesity in the 50 states since 1990.

Titled “F as in Fat: How Obesity Threatens America’s Future 2011,” the report offers a stark picture of how much more obese Americans are today than they were two decades ago, and it offers numerous policy recommendations to address the problem. The costs of obesity, whether in rising health care coverage for companion diseases like diabetes or for wider seats on buses and airplanes, have been documented throughout the course of the nation’s epidemic.

Obesity rates among adults now exceed 25 percent in more than two-thirds of the states, according to the report, and these rates climbed in 16 states over the last year. None of the states had a decline. The states with the highest rates tended to be in the South, with Colorado boasting the lowest obesity rate, under 20 percent.

Trust for America’s Health and Robert Wood Johnson Foundation Graphic: Obesity Trends (Click to Expand)

The report also features the efforts of different communities to combat obesity, whether by encouraging more physical activity among their residents or by helping them find healthier food choices. In a continuing series, The Big Picture, articles published in The Times have examined, among other things, anti-obesity programs financed with grants issued by the Robert Wood Johnson foundation and federal and local governments.

But it can be difficult to see quick results, particularly for more recent initiatives, cautioned Jeffrey Levi, the executive director for the trust and a professor of health policy at George Washington University. A decline in obesity rates “is going to take time,” he said.

And, as my colleague, Stephanie Strom, observed in a recent article about the efforts to combat obesity that are taking place in Louisville, a place where many residents are severely overweight, progress can be difficult to come by: “Successes on one front are countered by setbacks on another, and signs that the needle has moved overall are slight and mostly anecdotal.”

Mr. Levi also argues that residents may see changes in health outcomes, like lower rates of diabetes, before the states show any declines in obesity rates because losing only 10 percent of an individual’s body weight can dramatically improve someone’s health. The data aren’t sensitive enough to show whether someone who remains obese has lost weight, he said.

There is also some reason to be optimistic about the efforts taking place, according to Mr. Levi, who said the good news was that more states didn’t see an increase in their levels of obesity. A few years ago, about twice as many states experienced an increase in obesity rates than did over the last year, he said.

“You have to level off before you start declining, and we’re starting to see it,” Mr. Levi said.

Related articles on obesity in a continuing series can be found on The Big Picture page.

POTD - Photo Included (Sushine and Clouds)

Sunshine mixed with clouds
The weatherman says
And I think - what a beautiful truth

Comics (h/t Tzali Winder)

Wherever You Go, There You Are

The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. No, not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be. ~ Robert Fulghum

Swedish Proverb

Fear less, hope more

Eat less, chew more

Whine less, breathe more

Talk less, say more

Love more

and all good things will be yours

Picture of the Day

hat tip to Stephen Belsky

"If Man Made It, Don't Eat It" (Click Here For Explanation)

"All of us can be much better than we are." - Jack LaLanne

On Bananagrams

“Life is like a game of cards. The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will.” - Jawaharlal Nehru

I received this response to quote cited above.

My friend says that the Bananagrams Board is a metaphor for life - if the pieces you are dealt don't look right, keep moving them around until they do. Stay flexible but stay true to yourself!

My reply follows:

I love Bananagrams. I like how your friend thinks (and appreciate your remembering and sharing the thought). I never thought of the metaphor of it... Until now. It's tempting when you "split"/start to want to turn the letters over in as quick a way as possible, even all at once - but it may make more sense to take the time to turn each one over alone and take it in for a second. It's the long path that's short (derech aruchah shehi ketazarah) because you get to plan ahead: "Eizehu chacham? Ha'roeh et hanolad." -"Who is wise? He who sees projected consequences."

Sometimes you've built up a whole board and then late in the game you get Z and you can't just tack it on to the way things are, and you can't trade it away, so the only choice is to shuffle things around, undo and re-do... Of course, sometimes there is a chance to just switch the letter for a new one, but when you gain you also lose. One letter you see and deem hard out equals three unknown letters in to deal with.

The later it gets in the game the harder the letters you're going to get will be because a lot of others have dumped their letters and taken choice letters already. Sometimes you have to stretch yourself and change your way of thinking to see words you wouldn't think of/see otherwise. You have to really pay attention to each letter, even the ones that tend not to be your favorite go to ones, and see how you can work with them.

Remember that while you're working on your board others are working on their own boards, everyone has a board - even if they're not overtly interlinking (like in Scrabble). Don't assume someone else's board is better; if you traded boards with another player you'd still have shuffling to do and unknown letters being drawn and frustrating juggling to do. If you did trade you'd probably soon want your own board back.

Sundry Sunday Thoughts

Lulav (לולב) – a ripe, green, closed frond from a date palm tree (Wikipedia). The term frond refers to a large, divided leaf. In both common usage and botanical nomenclature, the leaves of ferns are referred to as fronds and some botanists restrict the term to this group. Other botanists allow the term frond to also apply to the large leaves of cycads and palms (Arecaceae) (Wikipedia). You learn something new every day: I came accross the word frond in a poem about lulavim and decided to be a man, admit that I didn't know what the word meant, and look it up.

How much credence should be given to our given personalities? What is the meaning of irreconcilable differences? Is it a) that sometimes personality types are just too different to get along and maybe shouldn't be together in the first place? or b) it could even be that the two people are similar personality types, there are always differences between people, and the emphasis in this phrase goes on the first word, and irreconcilable may mean won't rather than can't.

Should you trust a doctor who assures you he remembers the patient who recommended you, whom he hasn't seen in twenty years - and then he doesn't remember that he's seen you before when you come for your follow up tests?

Last night I had the recurring dream of having a hard time heading out of Israel. I was heading to security when I realized I didn't have a form I needed. This after bicycling and running to get there on time. I realized time was running out, I woke up in order to get the form I needed on time. I also had a dream about early stages of dating that felt very real.

‎"Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader-not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon." - E.L. Doctorow

The quote above is a riff on the writing teacher's adage: show don't tell. He's saying don't just show, cause the reader to experience. That's what my favorite writers do for me.

Tonight I was reminded of this story about Holland, which is about how in life, as my friend put it, things can turn out to be Okay, but a different kind of Okay than you expected.

What do you think of this picture? I don't know who took it (promise it wasn't anyone I know). I understand the frustration, but I wonder if there wasn't some waiter, waitress, manager, cashier some one to talk to. I don't think this was the way to go.

I just found out about the death of someone I knew years ago. My friends were talking about the loss of a friend... and then I remembered that I knew that deep, life-filled person. Sigh. May her neshamah have an aliyah.

A friend of mine recently told me about a couple in his community that he believes are lamedvavniks. He said that through their actions they redeem his faith in people. Among other things they unconditionally provide a community meal in the shul every Friday night for anyone who wants/needs it. Once my friend was surprised to see this fellow with a baby, as he knew it wasn't his. The man said he and his wife were watching the baby for a while and my friend sensed that it was a quiet good deed and he asked no more.

There's a theory that every performer really has one audience. It could be a mentor or relative or lover or friend. No matter how many people are in the seats the actor is really performing for one person. That fascinates me. I wonder if it applies to the broader stage of life that people have one person - often hidden away from their own self awareness - who is their audience in all that they do. What do you think of that.

It's been years since I read All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten. The seed in the Styrofoam cup didn't have to die. Once we didn't have to either and one day we will see the death of death. Is look still the first word kids learn? I don't think so. My brother taught me the word look before I started first grade. And he told me how Mrs. Russian (sic) would teach it - by making the "O"s into eyes. I remain grateful.