Caren and Lee

My favorite picture of Caren and Lee

Cousin Caren is getting married next Sunday (incidentally my parent's anniversary) in Chicago.  The third of my cousin Marlene's three daughters, she is the youngest and the last to be married.  A simcha!

When Caren was born her father Larry was in the hospital in the next bed.  He had been fighting cancer since his twenties and about ten years later he was gone way too soon at only 43.  I remember how kind and generous he was and how much he loved my cousin.

Marlene continued to raise the girls and did a terrific job.  They are very close to each other - no surprise - and each girl has found her bashert in the most wonderful of young men.

So it is bittersweet and beautiful to see Marlene walk her girls to the chuppah.  Her brother Howie takes Larry's place.  I cry.

Tevye sang in Fiddler on the Roof "It takes a wedding to make us say let's live another day".
Yes indeed, life goes on. 

Congratulations Caren and Lee!  I can't wait!

Haircut

MY LOOK
 

Today is haircut day.  I have an appointment with Florencia who can work wonders with my not-so-robust locks and give me that tousled messy look that tells the world I am a fun loving and carefree kind of gal.  In truth, I love the messy look because, of course, it's super easy to maintain.  Just wash, run my fingers through it with maybe a touch of "product" and straighten the bangs with my flat iron. 

Florencia is not her real name but it's somewhat close to the true Romanian version.  She was a true "find" and I've followed her from one shop to another.  I get the "senior" cut and without a wash and blow dry it's only $13.  I tip big though.

After all, miracle workers are hard to find...

:-)

Shmaltz

Shmaltz is chicken fat, plain but not-so-simple. Jews today eschew this time-honored ingredient which our Mamelehs and Bubbes incorporated into almost every meal set on their kitchen tables.  Shmaltz has gone the way of other hydrogenated animal fats and has fallen to the same sad status as (gasp!) bacon drippings or Crisco. 

Shmaltz of course is in a class by itself.  My Yiddisha mama would save pieces of chicken skin and fat and when we had enough, she would render the fat by simmering it for hours with a bit of onion and then setting it to cool.  She would then fry the leftover skin into "grivenas", crispy treats that are closest to fried pork rinds if you really insist on finding something similar.

My father would put a shmear of shmaltz on a matzo and sprinkle on a little salt.  Soo yummy!

OK here's my confession.  I still render shmaltz to make grivenas.  I buy a package of chicken necks (lots of skin included) and cut up the neck skin into small pieces.  They go into a Corning wear dish for 15 minutes in the microwave until super-crispy (incredibly easier than hours on the stove top).  Periodically I will stir them to keep them from sticking together.  I drain them well and feed them to hubby along with a prayer that his good heart health holds up.  He smiles and tells me I am a great cook.

The necks themselves, sans fat, make delicious soup. Sadly though, the resulting shmaltz goes down the disposal.  But maybe, just maybe, next time I will sneak a bit on a matzo...

;-)

Deli

I kinda of knew this was happening but when I actually read an article about it I felt a jolt right to my solar plexus.  Jewish Delis are closing all over. 

In the last decade the famous Rascal House in North Miami and the equally storied Wolfies in Miami Beach have closed their doors after decades of being revered and practically historic South Florida landmarks.  And the worst came a year or two ago when Hollywood lost our beloved Deli Den, a true Deli with the best homemade cheese pastries ever.

What a rare and wonderful treat it was when my Dad would take me to Roosevelt and Halstead Streets and treat me to a corned beef or pastrami at Manny's!! 

On the bright side, I still have Mo's in Aventura and Ben's in Boca and Poppie's in Delray Beach.  Deli On Forever!

;-)

 

Help Wanted

I love anything that helps me do my chores faster or better.  The best of these are those that actually do the chores FOR me! So in my quest to find the perfect cleaning companion - outside of an actual live cleaning person - I have tried all sorts of robotic gizmos.

I was an early adopter of the Roomba and the Scooba.  Both were OK but had shortcomings, the worst of which was that they seemed to always run out of battery power while situated under a bed.  There were also "walls" to be maintained with fresh D cell batteries to prevent Roomba and Scooba from sucking up my long draperies. I finally gave up on these and went back to doing it the old-fashioned way.

Now there is a fresh new crop of robotic gizmos: the "Neat" and the "O-Duster" and a few others I think.  The O-Duster is currently circulating around my house as I type.  Its the simplest of the robots - you just charge up its internal battery every night and attach a swiffer type cloth (pricey custom size of course) and it runs around the house seeking dust mites.  So far it's not bad and I figure whatever it does, I don't have to do.  It's also light weight so if it does get stuck under the bed I can easily poke it out with a broom handle.

When I was a little girl, Mr. Wizard promised me that by the time I was a housewife I would have a faucet that ran boiling water, a machine to wash and dry my dishes, and a robot to do my cleaning.  I guess he was right on all counts!

;-)

Blanky

With the recent slight chill sweeping into South Florida I've taken to curling up under my blanky.  Do we ever outgrow the nice warm comforting feeling of being ensconced in our blanky?

I must admit I did not always have a blanky.  In Chicago there was a high power electric blanket set to Max Blast.  But a few years ago they came out with these cuddly new blankies made out of some kind of super soft fleece with a velvety smooth covering. I found mine at Walgreens and after one touch I couldn't resist. 

Cousin Barbara gifted me at Chanukah with soft fleece polka-dot PJs made out of the same wonderful synthetic material that feels terrific against my skin.  Normally they are much too warm for South Florida but I do so love the occasional times I'm able to wear them. 

Not only does my blanky keep me toasty, it's a great elixir for mild depression and unexplainable mood swings and it's a wonderful companion for afternoon naps. It's also an antidote if I wake up with an uncontrollable desire to be overproductive or am contemplating such overambitious undertakings like cleaning out the refrigerator.

Cuddle On!

;-)

Gone Too Far

I must be getting old when something has really gone-too-far for me.  I pride myself on thinking nothing can surprise me anymore but this one almost crossed the invisible line in my head to yucky-icky.  I'm glad this is "just" a spoof and not really a full length movie. 

The only Tarantino movies I really liked were the "Kill Bill" series.  Come to think of it, DJESUS UNCROSSED  (if they really did make it) would be a similar Revenge/Get-Even movie, usually my very favoritest theme for books or the small or large screen.

OK Saturday Night Live, you topped yourself this time!   You got me! 

;-)

40 Bags

I heard of a new "challenge" - 40 bags in 40 days.  A friend has started the challenge with her pantry and I've read that others have embraced it as a meaningful activity for Lent. 

Now I am not a hoarder and I kinda practice this "challenge" all through the year. I hate clutter and love when everything I see around me has some kind of meaning, purpose or memory.  Serious bagging would have to involve hubby, whose man-cave (the garage) is filled with stuff we've had for decades. Incredibly, he seems to be able to put his hands on whatever is needed at the moment. 

Yesterday he replaced flickering fluorescent bulbs in the garage.  No trip to Home Depot required, oh no, he miraculously produced two super-long fluorescent bulbs wrapped in newspaper dated November 25, 1995.  They had to have travelled with us from Illinois! 

Perhaps I should forgo this challenge.  Besides, I can't seem to find 40 bags anywhere, hahaha.

;-)

Cantor Rosen

It was New Year's Eve, Friday, December 31, 2010.  I had decided that 2011 would best be welcomed by starting off with Friday night services. I had a lot to be thankful for in 2010 and this seemed a small way to express my gratitude.

We had never before been to Temple Solel. But when I heard Cantor Israel Rosen sing and play his guitar, I knew this would be my new spiritual home.  His "Mi Shebeirach" moved me to tears.

Last night at Friday night services the Rabbi talked about how young Israeli soldier Israel Rosen, only 20 years old, had slept at the foot of the Western Wall on June 7, 1967, the day he helped to return the Wall to Israeli hands and to Jews everywhere.  Wow! Who Knew? 

I chatted with the Cantor's wife after the service at the Oneg and learned that the Cantor's parents had come to Israel on the ship that was first turned away by the British. Two decades later their son, whom they named for the new state, would help liberate the Kotel.  It would be the "Wailing Wall" no longer, as our tears of sadness became tears of joy.

Karma has continued to follow me this week.  This is the second post this week that embraces the Wall...

Fallen Angel

Big surprise, another day, another fallen angel.  Yesterday it was accused murderer Oscar Pistorius; today Jesse Jackson Junior will probably face five years in the slammer, thus joining the sad cadre which includes Lance Armstrong, Tiger Woods and too many politicians to list.

I am beyond sad, I'm actually MAD!  These folks have duped us with their charitable foundations and phony do-good activities.  Oh you say, cut them some slack, they DID do some good along with their other nefarious activities.  And aren't we all just humans??

We are indeed but no I won't cut them some slack.  Most of us mere mortals freely admit we are not perfect.  We do not try to pretend that just because we are driven to excel in sports or in our careers (or whatever) that we are worthy role models for the rest of the world.

I'll give you an example of how we have been hood-winked big time.  See this book: It's About the Money!: How You Can Get Out of Debt, Build Wealth, and Achieve Your Financial Dreams ?  It was written by young Jackson in 1999 for very poor minority audiences who may never have had any training or experience in simple household budgeting, saving a little, living within your means and bettering your prospects through career education. What a farce!  Young Jackson "built" his own wealth (like a $63,000. Rolex) and "achieved his financial dreams" not by living within his means but by embezzling $750,000. from supporters who trusted him enough to contribute to his campaign fund. 

Goodbye Fallen Angel.  You were right about one thing - it was all about the money for you.

NIU 2/14/2008

Workplace violence AKA nutcases with guns has been in the news almost constantly lately.

Five years ago today god-daughter Victoria had just finished taking a test for her Nursing degree at Northern Illinois University and went to pick up Kyra, then only 1, at the daycare center.  Little did she dream that she would spend the next hour and a half locked in a bathroom with ten toddlers and six adults as a gunman went on a shooting spree that killed five bright and innocent souls and injured many others (her words).

So many other senseless acts of violence have supplanted this incident in the public eye yet it will forever be remembered by the terrified survivors and the friends and families of the victims.  Victoria said she was anxious about going back on the campus - many others never returned - but she was determined to not let a maniac control her future. 

Enough already.  Enough.

South Pacific

The news that John Kerr passed away a few days ago sent me reminiscing about South Pacific the movie.  It is by far my favorite musical and I've seen the play and all movie versions many times.  And I can sing most of the songs by heart. 

I loved Mitzi Gaynor singing "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" and the late great Ray Walston singing "There Ain't Nothing Like A Dame".  But of course John Kerr did not have to sing or dance or anything, just take his shirt off  ;-)

South Pacific is a story of bravery in World War II and also two love stories - one between a nurse and French recluse and the other between a handsome young lieutenant (Kerr) and a native Bali girl. 

RIP John Kerr.  Bali Ha'i is calling you...

Yitzhak Yifat

I always had a slight crush on that good looking paratrooper (the one in the middle) since I saw his picture at the liberation of the Western Wall in 1967.  All of those young men were my heroes and no action was more thrilling to me than the return of the Kotel to Israeli hands.  He also reminded me of someone vaguely familiar, perhaps another young soldier or airman that I knew from school, hahaha? 

Today, thanks to a Facebook post by my Rabbi, I find out that the man in the picture is Dr. Yitzhak Yifat.  In an article about the recent death of Rabbi David Hartman and the arrest of two women who dared to wear tallit at the Western Wall, Dr. Yifat is quoted as saying:
 “It breaks my heart that the ultra-Orthodox have decided the Kotel belongs to them.  In honor of Rabbi Hartman-Dayeinu, enough! In the Rabbi’s words 'I don’t want religion to be the private property of certain people. I don’t want the length of the sidelocks to be the determining factor.'"

I liked that young airman then but I like him even more now! 

;-)

28

God-daughter Victoria was playing a Facebook game - she told a bit about what was going on in her life at a certain age and if you "liked" her post she would send you an age to tell about yourself.

I guess it was Karma 'cause of course the age Victoria sent me was 28, the worst year of my life.  I will spare you all the details Dear Diary but that was the year we lived in Pittsburgh. Stu had got a "great" job as a Marketing Manager for an office furniture manufacturer and I worked in the Busy Beaver window replacement office. I hated my boring job and Stu's job was gone in a year. We lost a third of the money we had painstakingly accumulated in our eight years of marriage and were stuck in a miserable city we hated with a house we couldn't afford. Pittsburgh set us back financially and played a horrible head game that affected us for years. But like any other life experience, it paved the way for all the good things that followed. 

It must have also been Karma that just yesterday I wrote that this last year has been the best year of my life.  I need to remember the bad times to appreciate the good!

;-)

One Year

This month marks one full year of retirement for me.  The time has certainly flown by and if I tell you this has been the best year of my life I don't think I would be exaggerating by much (or any).

I was perusing a compendium of articles extracted from various sources by my Zite app tonight, each more depressing than the one before.  It seems that us Boomers are woefully unprepared for retirement having saved practically bubkus.  Our homes are worth less, our health is not as good as the previous generation's, we will need to work in retirement (an oxymoron if I ever heard one) and health costs will cripple us. Pensions are non-existent, we have too much debt and we are heading for sad, lonely ends.

I was about to exit out of this depressing mess when this article caught my eye: You Can Retire Now, Lead a Sacred Life and Find True Joy by Bruce Davis, PhD.  Yes!  At last a true ray of hope for us Boomers and a spot-on description of exactly how I feel about my own retirement. 

Here's his opening paragraph and his article goes on to include other comforting insights:

You can retire now, and you don't need a list of things to do or a new hobby. You don't have to wait for grandchildren, need a golf course nearby, or make a map full of places to visit. You can retire without meetings to attend, workshops to take, and dates to fill Friday and Saturday night. You can retire and not spend your retirement on the Internet, glued to your desk, or trying to be forever 40 years old. You can retire without a full calendar. You can have no calendar and be perfectly satisfied. You can retire and not spend your life being entertained. You can turn off the television and be free. You can retire, and you don't have to be productive. You don't have to be doing anything. There are other priorities than working and trying to conquer this feeling that there will never be enough. There are satisfactions other than a pay check, being important in your company, or being always the provider. There is another identity. You can retire and simply be happy, inspired, and full of the joy of life.

I can indeed. I am!  Life is very very good...

Ajax For Dishes

In case you had any doubts about what a sentimental shmuck I am, this should put all those doubts to rest. After all, how many people can expound upon their love of a dishwashing detergent?

Our first apartment did not have a dishwasher but no matter. The Colgate company had just put Ajax For Dishes on the market and their commercials featured a big burly guy purporting to be a professional dishwasher who happily sang "they answered my wishes with Ajax for dishes, it makes the work faster for me". Let's face it, if you are a big burly guy who loves being a professional dishwasher chances are you are a recent parolee.

That catchy tune stayed with me as I washed dishes for the next several decades. I never strayed from Ajax For Dishes, even though Marj promised I could soak my hands in Palmolive and Dove came out with creamy white stuff that smelled like my favorite soap.

It's 2013 and now I have the top-of-the-line state-of-the-art Kitchen Aid dishwasher but I still buy Ajax For Dishes in the handy large economy 1.62 quart size. Why? I squirt a healthy dose into my bathtub every night to make the bubbles I am so fond of. I assume it gets me a little cleaner as well.

And yes, I still hum "they answered my wishes..."

Meat

Meat has been in the news lately.  It seems that Poland has been sending "beef" to Ireland that is  75% horse meat.  Yuck!  In the UK a popular brand of lasagna was found to be made with 100% horse meat.  Yuck Yuck!  The consumption of dog meat in South Korea still thrives and who knows what they eat in North Korea. And here in America there's the pink slime which I blogged about a few months ago. 

Now intellectually there is not much difference between a cow or a pig or a horse or a dog is there?  I think they are all mammals and they all have pretty much the same parts.  Do we wrinkle up our noses at horse meat and dog meat because horses and dogs are smarter and can be domesticated?  Do they remind us of Flicka and Lassie?

Speaking non-intellectually and from my own frame of reference as a well-fed American who loves her chicken and rib steaks, eating horse and dog meat is disgusting.  What's just as bad is being deceived with mis-information. The perpetrators of this fraud need long terms in the hoosegow and a diet of Alpo.

Those poor Micks!  I hope their St. Paddy's Day corned beef and cabbage is indeed beef.

;-)

Commission Meeting

I plan to speak at the next City Commission meeting on February 20th.  There will be the second reading of a proposed ordinance on towing unauthorized vehicles, after which, if voted upon, it will become a done deal.

Our well meaning Commissioners, upon hearing of an incident in Sunrise where an ambitious towing company pulled 300 vehicles from a mall parking lot on Black Friday 2011, vowed to prevent such a horrendous act from ever happening in Hollywood. How?  A new ordinance of course!  One which makes it more difficult for a towing company to pull vehicles and is an inconvenience to the owner or property manager. And while they're at it, why not throw in a bunch of new provisions about signage, illumination and placement?

Like many other things that start with good intentions but end with unforeseen consequences, the Commissioners quickly latched onto this proposed legislation as a "no brainer".  Luckily I am here to point out to them that towing from a huge commercial parking lot is in no way the same as towing from a small private beach condo building where every spot is deeded to an owner and if an unauthorized vehicle is in that spot the owner has no where else to park.  We NEED our towing company to continue the unimpaired ability to tow the scofflaws who dare to think we are providing free beach parking.

At least I can try to convince them to modify the ordinance. Such is the beauty of our system of local government.  Just like a Norman Rockwell painting no? 

Those Were The Days

They say wrinkles and sagging skin and the need for reading glasses, Ben Gay and better support bras can make one feel old.  Maybe so but nothing makes me feel more old than having sick friends.  Any diagnosis from the sniffles to the Big C scares the bejesus out of me.

I don't have a lot of friends or family and I want and need every one.  I've lost a few and that hammered home that yes, we Baby Boomers are indeed mortal and cannot run against the winds of time forever. 

But the folks I knew when we were all young remain young forever in my mind.  I see them laughing and joking and planning great adventures and wild escapades.  As the song goes "those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end". 

And I hope they don't, not yet, and not for a long, long time.

Watching

I am watching an item on e-bay, something I've done before only this time I'm actually tempted to put in a bid.  I only have a few hours left but my understanding is the price will be driven up in the last few minutes before the auction ends.  I must be vigilant if I want to snare the True Religion New With Tags General Lee Stella Skinny Jeans Size 28.

Don't get me wrong, I've purchased lots of stuff on e-bay, 26 items to be exact (they keep count).  But they have all been Buy-It-Now things.  Mostly I've had good luck with the products.  The 30 pieces of Magic Erasers for $9.50 were a little smaller than I expected and the 99 cent eyeliner from South Korea was thrown out upon arrival because it dawned on me it might have lead as an ingredient.  But my two pairs of Miss Me jeans are spot on and great buys to boot.

I feel bad I let that Jessica Simpson Havana tote slip through my fingers last week because I was too timid (cheap) to bid on it.  It was a rare find and priced nicely and I loved it.  I have set my maximum bid allowance to $60. for the General Lee's.  

Wish me luck!

American Sniper

Chris  Kyle, author of American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History, was shot to death yesterday. 

This book is not the kind that is in my usual selection of reading material so I cannot tell you why I reserved it a few months ago from the library.  To tell the truth, when it arrived I could not read more than a chapter or two.  My impression was that although this man was a hero, and certainly endowed with unique skills, he was a bit of an egoist and really, why write a book with such a self aggrandizing title?   But I caught him a few times on "Stars Earn Stripes" and he seemed to be more of a man and less of a superhero with a special power.

 

So I will remember this Navy Seal for his service to our country, for his two Silver Stars and five Bronze Stars for Valor, for the foundation he started to help other Vets with post-traumatic stress, and for the lives he saved and not the number of his kills.

RIP Chris Kyle

Snaggletooth

In the category of "now I've heard everything" comes the story of how Japanese women are actually paying to have their teeth made crooked.  It's cute they say.

Luckily for all of humankind, there are some folks who find other folks attractive no matter how unconventional their "beauty" is.  There are people who prefer others who have "some meat on their bones" and those who admire every variation of facial and body type.

Luckily for me and my parents I never needed braces.  But my lower two front teeth are slightly crooked.  Incidentally, they were the only two of my baby teeth that were pulled by a dentist.  I always blamed him, hahaha.

This slight defect never bothered me a bit but now I realize that these two teeth are as beautiful as the rest of my many other imperfections.  Just part of my overall gorgeousness hahaha.  And I got them for free - no paying for my 'tseuke-yaeba' look!

;-)

Our Words

My friend and former staff member Denis gave the eulogy for his little son Mateo this week.  With his wife standing by his side, he was magnificent, gently describing the hardships that came with the 15 months of Mateo's life and also the joy and love and lessons learned.  I was so proud of him!  He is such a grounded, focused, articulate and loving man, a mensch as we like to say in Yiddish. He has come quite a way from the young man I hired several years ago.

Denis' eulogy also contained a nugget that made my day, my week, and maybe the rest of my life.  He said "there was one person that gave me support throughout  this hard time, my boss, Evelyn".  I had told him he was strong enough to handle it all, and I was right, he was.  It is obvious he will come out of this ordeal with renewed faith in God and his own strength. 

Wow!  I was flabbergasted!  Denis didn't mention anyone else except me by name.  I was blown away.

A former co-worker who was there said this to me afterwards: "We never know how our words will affect people".  So very, very true.  A kind word or an expression of love that comes just at the right time can turn our whole world around or at least make the day a heck of a lot better. 

:-)

The Doctors

Dr. Ronald Gilbert

I learned today that Dr. Ronald Gilbert was murdered by a disgruntled patient three days ago.  Of course I was reminded of Dr. Bradley Silverman who was murdered in Aventura, also by a disgruntled and mentally unbalanced patient.  The similarities are striking, not the least of which is that they were both Jewish surgeons in the prime of their lives and careers.

I met Dr. Silverman when I was a hospital patient in January 1998, almost exactly 15 years ago, when I had abdominal surgery for an intestinal blockage.  Dr. Bradley Silverman was my surgeon's partner and one day he substituted for my surgeon during the daily rounds.  I remember him as kind and funny - I was well enough by that time to joke around. Exactly one year later, in January 1999, he was dead at only 41.  

When we joined Temple Solel, I looked at the memorial wall which is lighted by 40 years of the Temple's deceased members.  There was Dr. Silverman's light.  

His light not only burns there, but also in the scholarships, the medical helicopter, the mobile mammogram unit and the other tributes that bear his name. 

It also burns  in the memories of his patients and those he helped in his too-short career.  

Like me.