The Wall Street Progrom

(Thoughts for a Friday)

I am not sure why anyone is surprised at the huge outburst of anti-Semitic remarks across the world in the wake of the collapse of Wall Street, and its influence on world markets.

After all, anyone with half a brain who lives in the Midwest (or anywhere in Europe) and has married their first cousin knows that the Wall Street crisis has nothing to do with George Bush, or the natural cycle of the economy. Everyone knows that the Jews control the entire supply of money in the world - hell, in the Universe - in addition to controlling the government, Hollywood and the garbage pickup on every day except Thursday.

For sure, 9/11 is the Jews' fault, because we had the gall to work in some buildings in Manhattan, and the Arabs were just doing their job by trying to kill us.

And that Jewish man or woman with whom you had an affair, that person who supposedly ruined your marriage? It must be the Jews' fault, because we are so darned good looking. (Look at what Monica Lewinsky did to the Clinton administration, as an example.)

My final observation, as long as we are talking about the irrational and dangerous; the campaign posters for Meir Porush, in his Mayoral bid, show him as a smiley Santa-like cartoon character, with the tag line, "Jerusalem will love Meir Porush," like we don't have a choice in the matter. Well, Jerusalem voters, we do have a choice, in fact an imperative to end the Ultra-Orthodox stranglehold on our city. Porush is not a cartoon unfortunately, but a real person with extremist ideals and lacking the support of his own people. (It doesn't really mater, because the Chareidi community does the mitzva of allowing the dead to vote.)

Jerusalem has suffered for too long, and I believe that Nir Barakat is the candidate to return the honor of one of the most treasured cities on the planet and throughout history.

New Traditional Holidays

Since the founding of the State of Israel, there has been an effort on part of the "new" Israelis to re-define traditional Jewish holidays, more in keeping with a country trying to emulate the rest of the nations. And so I provide for you a chart of some of the major Biblical holidays, with their modern sensibilities.

Chanukah
Traditional Name: Chanukah
History: Macabees save nation from Toga party and jelly doughnuts
New Improved Name: Chag Urim (Festival of Lights)

(*This holiday sponsored by Toys R Us and all things oil.)

Christmas
Traditional Name: Chag HaMolad (The Festival of the Birth)
History: Jesus, who was in fact Jewish, is born in a manger.
New Improved Name: Chag HaMishloach (Festival of the Take-Out Food, as modern Jews around the world celebrated by going to the movies and getting Chineese take-out)

(*This holiday sponsored by the GNP and Kung Pow Chicken)

Lag B'Omer
Traditional Name: Festival of the Trees
History: Agricultural New Year
New Improved Name: Chag HaYaar
(Festival of the Forest, have to think
Green and Global these days.)

(*This holiday sponsored by Al Gore: inventor of the internet, underrated American Vice President, Oscar winner and Nobel Prize recipient. What a guy! And by Keren Kayemet, the Israeli institution that plants trees, virtual trees in the Shmita year.)

Purim
Traditional Name: Festival of the Lot
History: Kidnapped Jewish Esther and Uncle Mordechai save nation and play dress up
New Improved Name: Chag HaShicorim (Festival of the Drunkards)

(*This holiday sponsored by AA and the junk food industry.)

Rosh HaShana
Traditional: Jewish New Year
History: All creation on their knees, begging for forgiveness, in between lots of festive meals
New Improved Name: Chag HaDieta (As in after the holiday, I will go on my diet)

Yom Kippur
Traditional Name: Day of Judgement
History: Holiest day of year where all creation assumes positive results of Rosh
Hashana, and celebrates by abstaining from all things fun. Except for the streets filled with children riding bikes, and roller blading, because they know they won't get run over by a car.
New Improved Name: Chag HaOfanaim (Festival of the Bike)
Alternative Name: Festival of the Massive Video Rentals because all TV and radio stations shut down for 25 hours.

(*This holiday sponsored by therapists, who are most concerned at the pattern of binge eating and fasting in Jewish culture and tradition.)

Succot
Traditional Name: Feast of the Tabernacle
History: To thank G-d for protecting us in the deser, though not asking directions for 40 years, Jews live in windy huts
New Improved Name: Chag HaDvorim (Festival of the Bees, who swarm looking for
warm Jewish food and honey)

(*This holiday sponsored by Christmas lights, bought on sale and used in the Succah.)

Shavuot
Traditional Name: The Time of the Giving of the Torah
History: Encounter with greatness at Mt. Sinai , celebrated by pulling an all nighter, like in college
New Improved Name: Chag Motzarei Chalav (The Dairy Holiday)

(*This holiday sponsored by the Israeli Dairy farmers, who are out to punish the Lactose Intolerant.)

Pessach
Traditional Name: Festival of the Matzot
History: Starts with a four-cup wine feast, no bread for a week, and trust me, Matza is no substitute
New Improved Name: Chag Baayot HaIcool (Festival of Problematic Digestion)

(*This holiday is (a) Kosher for Passover (b) Kosher for Passover only for those who can eat Legumes (c) Kosher for Passover for those who cannot eat Legumes.)

Getting into the Holiday Spirit

Growing up in America, Chanukah (the Jewish holiday of lights) and Christmas (the cultural holiday of Capitalism) walked hand-in-hand. My non-Jewish friends envied me because I had eight days in which to receive gifts, as opposed to a one-time bonanza under the tree. I envied my non-Jewish friends because I loved the carols, and the spirit of giving, even if it only occurred one day a year.

Especially after living in New York City, the Christmas season has been indelibly imprinted upon my brain. The awe inspiring raising of the tree at Rockefeller Center, and skating beneath its lights on the Rockefeller Center rink. The artistic arrangement of the windows at Macy's, all white and sparkling. The Nutcracker ballet live and sitting in the second row with my grandparents, and the numerous holiday programming on television: Frosty the Snowman, Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the original Grinch cartoon, and who can forget the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life. " (Broadcasted 24 hours a day for several weeks, until you want to kill yourself.)

Usually known for their aggressive behaviour, New Yorkers become more kind and gentle, smiling and wishing each other a "Happy Holiday," while they sprint to work or shop for presents. Of course as soon as the drunken orgy takes place in Times Square on New Year's eve, all that generosity of spirit disappears faster than you can say "Ho ho ho."

I moved to Jerusalem, Israel in 1997, and there are essentially three things that I miss about the United States: one, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, my second home since childhood; two, fall foliage; and three, a true holiday spirit in December. Chanukah, unlike for example other Jewish holidays of Pesach or Succot, passes by without too much notice; most adults I know work at least part of the time if not overtime, rather than taking vacation with their family. Other than the appearance of jelly doughnuts and bad children's musicals, you would be hard pressed to find the true meaning of the Festival of Lights: a feeling of joy, family and salvation from an historical enemy of the Jews.

Several years ago, I saw the Nutcracker Ballet performed in Jerusalem. Cow-towing to the various religions, the stage in the first act lacked both a Christmas tree and a Menorah, and instead had an odd pile of presents in the corner. The music was pre-recorded. Towards the end of the second act, the Sugar Plum Fairy slipped and sprained her ankle during her solo, because the stage hand had not properly swept up the fake snow.

Two years ago, some friends and I went to the Jerusalem Theatre, for Handel's Messiah. My friend's husband slept through the first part, had an allergic attack (to culture?) in the second part and left with his wife, while I stayed until the end. The tonal quality of the voices were just OK, both the men and women had trouble hitting the highest and lowest notes.

Last year I attended a Christmas carol concert at the YMCA - I knew all the words - and many of my Jewish friends attend Midnight Mass, though they don't participate in the pure ritual. One of my Chiropractic patients reported to me that last year, 3/4 of the audience at the church were Jewish, and mostly Anglo-Saxon.

This year, the firebug in me made the conscious decision to end work earlier than usual, so that I could light the Menorah on time, and sit and enjoy the experience of family. The inner child in me will seek out another concert and maybe even buy myself a present or two.

Dear Santa...

Tall People

A song called "Short People" came onto the radio this morning, and I paid attention to the words, and the chorus in particular disturbed me: "Short people got no reason to live." I don't think a folk song should be advocating suicide, just because someone is height challenged.

I also challenge the world to consider the detriment of being tall. Only a tall woman can relate to the following painful memories of childhood:
1. Wanting to shop at the same stores where all the other girls buy their clothing.
2. Wanting to buy your first pair of high heels, and realizing that none of the cool stores carry a size 11 or 12 women's, and having to go to the Ugly Shoe Store for Old Ladies to buy some hideous Orthopaedic pair of "comfortable shoes."
3. Never being "cute."
4. Going to a bowling birthday party and being told in front of all your friends that they don't have your size in a women's shoe, you will have to wear one of the men's bowling shoes. (Like you don't feel awful enough already in a bowling shoe...)
5. Maintaining poor posture and slouching to the height of the group, so that you can feel like you are at eye-level.
5. Having limited dating options, or actually dating someone who is at least a head shorter than you, and seeing your reflection as a couple in the mirror for the first time, and feeling like you are Shrek and he is Princess Fiona, when she is not an ogre.

One of my grandmothers had a size 12 shoe, quite rare for a woman of that generation, and unlike today, there were zero options to walk into a normal store and buy normal fashionable foot ware. My other grandmother bought me a book called The Tallest Girl in the Class, a story about this girl in the fourth grade felt like an outsider and a freak, until she was picked to play the Christmas tree in the pageant, because she was the tallest person in the class. The children's book does not specify if she needed therapy later in life.

In elementary school, because I towered over both the girls and the boys, I was chosen to play Mordechai in the Purim musical, which we performed in front of the whole school. In retrospect, I would like to question the intelligence and sensitivity of putting a shy tall girl in a beard. My best friend at the time, Karen Zomick, got to play Queen Esther, because she was petite and "cute."

Today as an adult, I appreciate the many ways in which I am outside the box, my height being only one factor through which I stand out in the crowd. Tall people have stature and authority; my three brothers each stand over six feet. If I were thin enough, I could be a super-model. Quite content with my body and my build, I have no desire to lose a few inches, I will lose an inch and a half from my spinal discs as I get older anyway (as all humans do over time).

Maybe I ought to sue my elementary school for my not being married, because they caused gender confusion and set back my self-confidence. Anyone want to take on the case?

After the Holidays

In Israel, from approximately the week before Rosh Hashana through the week in which the Jewish holiday of Succot ends, you hear the phrase, "After the holidays..." As in "After the holidays, I will:
- Start my diet
- Call my literary agent
- Deal with my taxes
- Apply for jobs
- Clean out my closets
- Take the car to the garage to fix that dent
- Sit all morning in the random government office and take care of those parking tickets
- Schedule my annual medical exam

Because all citizens know that there is no point in trying to achieve closure on any procedure that demands government bureaucracy and cooperation, or any body issue that demands not eating continuously for three days in celebration of the various events at the beginning of the Jewish calendar.

This week provided a considerable challenge, that of waking up in the morning and knowing that there would be no two-day work weeks, that life resumes its "normal" pace and that the only vacation is one which you schedule yourself, one that is not mandated by religion. And yet, in the United States, consumerism rose to the challenge, by beginning its pre-Holiday (Halloween? Thanksgiving? Christmas?) sales. Wal Mart, Toys R Us and LL Bean stand out in the crowd; Toys R Us, particularly hit by the defective Chinese toy recall, stated that "Everyone can use a little Christmas right now."

Good for them, taking advantage of an economy collapsing because of George Bush's inept policies and once again I find myself saddened that the spirit of the holiday season has been lost for another year. I myself am a huge fan of Christmas carols, and challenge everyone in the holiday marketing business to listen carefully to the words of "The Little Drummer Boy," a song which encapsulates for me the true meaning of giving and receiving: it tells a story of child - the demographic targeted by the hype of the sales - who cannot afford to bring an expensive gift, and instead plays his drums, giving straight from the heart. In other words, it's not about how many presents sit under the tree, little baby Jesus isn't tallying the amount each person spent on his gift, he values love and intention.

The Jewish holiday of Chanukah, which in principle should stress the defense of core values and the receiving of miracles, has adopted the American Western value of the more presents the better, and whoever dies with the most stuff wins. Instead of one giant bonanza under the tree, we spread the spending over eight days. In my house, my parents tried to teach the importance of family and intention over commercial gain; most nights they presented us with an individual small gift, one which they thought about and tailored for each of us children. One night out of the eight, the family as a whole shared one giant expensive addition to the household, I can most vividly recall the Atari game player; who doesn't like Pong?! And for one of the nights our whole extended family got together for a party at my aunt and uncle's house in Westchester, where my grandmother talked about her childhood without family and how much we should cherish the time we spend together.

So get out those credit cards and start applying for your payment plan now, with only 75 shopping days until Christmas, items are going fast!