Alaskan Bush People

I'm hooked on this show. It has no sex, no murders, no aliens and definitely no culinary masterpieces. What it does have is a ton of heart.

A large, self reliant family that actually like each other and want to live together away from the rest of the world. Folks who need little, take little from the world, keep their promises, help each other succeed and work harder than I have ever worked at any 9 to 5 job. 

The most interesting thing about the Browns - other than how they manage without cell phones, electricity, TV, computers, appliances, the public school system and WalMart - is the family dynamic. Each member of the family seems to have an amazing individual skill that completes a whole, functioning unit. Noah is the family engineer and tinkerer who can make a meat smoker, hot tub, generator, shower and clothes dryer out of scrap parts from the junkyard. Gabe is the go-to guy for brute strength. Snowbird is the best shot and best chance for bagging a deer. Bam is the stable, steady voice of reason. Matt is the funster. Bear is the one best in tune with nature and is able to smell out water sources. Ami is the mother, the nurturer and home schooler. Billy is the father and Alpha Male, the leader of the pack and the Chief Decider.

I love the Browns and I love joining their 'Wolf Pack" for each new episode.

Howl On!

Roatan

We are just back from a wonderful cruise around the Caribbean. This trip included a new-to-us Port of Call, Roatan, Honduras. The shopping area outside the port was beautiful, inviting - and cheap! - so we decided to hire a taxi and an English speaking driver to give us a three hour tour of the island.

We saw incredible beaches, the funky-fun West End hippie/tourist area, multi-multi-million dollar homes, one room shacks where whole families live, the mall (suited for American tastes - there are 15,000 Americans and Canadians living on Roatan), the "downtown" commercial districts, and plenty of local attractions. The best part? The driver's story...

Our driver's English was good because he lived in the USA for nine years. From the Honduras mainland he tried three times between the ages of 14 and 18 to enter America illegally from Mexico. His third attempt was successful because he spent seven months in Mexico learning how. He rode the underside of a train, covered in oil and finally entered from Nuevo Laredo. From there he made it to San Antonio, then to Georgia where he had friends. He eventually met an American girl (she spoke no Spanish and he spoke no English at first), married, had two children - a boy and a girl - and worked as a house painter. One day ICE came and he was deported back to Honduras. The money he had sent his mother and sister over the years was gone (on bad things). That was five years ago.

In spite of having an attorney and American citizens for a wife and children, having been an illegal in the country has prevented him from returning legally. He is still hopeful he will be able to return legally soon. He sees his wife on her rare visits to Roatan and when he can, Skypes with his children. He said his wife and her family have been very supportive. Meanwhile, back on the Honduras mainland (I'm never going there!), his sister and two nieces were murdered (they were up to no good I think) and his mother passed away.

There is a lot of talk about illegal immigration these days. Hearing a real story from a real person made me stop and think a little more about it. 

I will not forget Roatan any time soon...

I'm A Frog

Here in The Villages we have Snowbirds - folks who come here for a few months every year to escape the harsh winters Up North.  We also have Snowflakes who come and visit for a few days or a week and disappear for a long stretch. But I am a Frog - I plan to be here until I croak!

Frogs are characterized by those of us who feel each day in TV is a vacation and each sunrise and sunset marks the start and end of a beautiful day in a perfect place. I think of this time and this place as my reward for a lifetime of hard work and worry and not screwing up too badly hahaha.

So I will sit here on my beloved lily pad and happily cackle joyful noises along with my other Frog friends.

Until I croak...

;-)

Feel The Bern

As a political junkie and also a Member of the Tribe I cannot help but pay attention to a Jew who is running for President. I've been reading all I can about Bernie Sanders and although I would never describe myself as a Socialist, there's a lot to like.

I do support many of his positions. Universal Health care with a single payer system (not ObamaCare) like they have in Canada and every other developed nation. A living minimum wage, preferably tied to inflation. Marriage equality. No to the TPP (have we forgotten NAFTA and the giant sucking sound it made as jobs were swept overseas?) Repeal of the Citizens United verdict by the Supreme Court which allows corporations and unions to spend unlimited funds on ads and other political tools which call for the defeat of individual candidates (that is, buy elections). No to gun control. No to a President beholden to foreign interests, lobbyists and rich donors. 

I'd like a President who has the courage of his convictions, whose opinions have not "evolved" with changing polling data. I admire Sanders' NO vote on the Iraq war. I even like that he has been true to the ideals of my (aging hippie) generation's vision for the future: live modestly, move to the country, work for the poor and underrepresented. I am happy that his name is not Bush or Clinton.

Here in Florida, we cannot vote in the primary to choose a Presidential candidate of either party unless we are a registered voter for that party. So I thoughtfully made the decision to change my voter registration to Democrat so I can vote for Bernie. My form to the Marion County Supervisor of Elections will be sent off tomorrow morning.

It's my Bern Notice!

;-) 

Blackout

Sometimes I pick up up a book and in a page or two I know I will not be setting it down until it's finished. Such a book is Blackout: Remembering The Things I Drank To Forget by Sarah Hepola.

It was less than 24 hours ago that I picked up this new release at the library and it was only a few minutes ago that I read the last page. I saw it mentioned in book reviews in the paper and in a magazine and much to my surprise, the library had it on the shelf with no holds.

I cannot truly relate to addiction to alcohol or cigarettes and I have never been more than a few pounds overweight. Yet I found this one woman's journey through a labyrinth of self destructive behaviors compelling. There but for the Grace of God. 

A wonderful life is the result of knowing what you really want/need and not sabotaging yourself.  Easier said than done, I know.  Temptations abound and the siren call of "who cares" and "why not" are hard to resist.

Kudos to Sarah who took a step at a time and helped herself to a better life. 

A Holy Place

I took this on vacation in 2014.
Mikve Israel Emanuel Synagogue
Willemstad Curacao
dedicated 1732

After my resounding success and subsequent good feelings from my little sermon at Temple last week, I decided I might like to try it again. So I asked Marlene (sermon scheduler and all around ritual guru) if I might get on the schedule again. But this time, I asked for the specific Torah portion I would like to tackle.

We had a general Congregational meeting last January and I was astounded that there was so much push back on the idea of hiring a Rabbi for our growing 750 member Temple. Apparently the prospect of spending an additional $40 or $50 a person each YEAR caused a tremendous among of angst.  If you believed the nay sayers, this would cause an undue financial burden on many of our retirees (who by the way never seem to skimp at the golf courses, restaurants or cruise lines). 

So I asked for this particular Parsha which Marlene tells me will be our topic on February 12, 2016.  I have already written my commentary and I hope it may inspire a few folks to reconsider their priorities, if only just a little bit.

Here it is:

We recently received a bill for our Temple dues for our upcoming third year of membership. And because we are still relatively new to the Villages and Temple Shalom, the bill included the third of five easy payments for the Building Fund.

 

This week’s Parsha tells of the very first Building Fund.  It’s called “Contributions for the Sanctuary” and it goes like this:

 

The Lord said to Moses, “Speak to the people of Israel that they take for me a contribution. From every man whose heart moves him you shall receive the contribution for me.  And this is the contribution that you shall receive from them: gold, silver, and bronze, blue and purple and scarlet yarns and fine twined linen, goats' hair, tanned rams' skins, goatskins, fine wood, oil for the lamps, spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense, onyx stones, and stones for setting for the priestly garments and for the breastpiece. And let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst. 

 

Debbie Friedman, the beloved genius of modern Jewish music, wrote a haunting ballad about this Torah portion.  Here are some of her words:

 

These are the gifts that we bring

      that we may build a holy place.

 This is the spirit that we bring

      that we may build a holy place.

 

These are the colors of our dreams

     we bring to make a holy place.

 This is the weaving of our lives

     we bring to make a holy place.

These are the prayers that we bring
    that we may make a holy place.
These are the visions that we seek
    that we may build this holy place.

Whenever we travel to faraway places with strange sounding names, or even just to a small nearby town, what do we see that excites us the most?  Opulent churches? Quaint shopping districts? Gourmet restaurants?

 

For me, it’s seeing a very old building with a humble Star of David above its door.  For there, in what might be the most unlikely of places, a group of Jews came together, pooled their perhaps meager resources, and with love and devotion, built a holy place to call their own.  In the poorest of towns and under the harshest of circumstances, our ancestors built shuls, supported a learned teacher or rabbi, and procured a Torah.

 

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if hundreds or even thousands of years from now, a wandering Jew found Temple Shalom and thought – here, in this improbable place, in Oxford Florida, surrounded by a hundred churches, a group of Jews  wrote checks to the Building Fund and built a spiritual home, a holy place, and filled it with beauty and friendship and light?

 

Shabbat Shalom!

Who knows? Perhaps we will have a Rabbi at Temple Shalom by next February and my little sermon will just remain here...

File and Suspend

I will be turning 66 in a few months which happens to be my "normal" retirement age for collecting Social Security benefits. This date will allow me to collect on hubby's benefits until I turn 70 when I can claim my own absolute maximum amount.  The technique is called "file and suspend" which is what hubby will do today when we visit the Social Security office. He also wants to collect the maximum at age 70 which is still a few years away.

Of course getting even half of hubby's benefits "early" will be nice but like every other rite-of-passage I've experienced since turning 60, it's strangely melancholy. I am, indeed, getting old.

A joyful cruise is on the near horizon and I packed a pair of white denim shorts. I am still debating about them - didn't I just read that I am too old for shorter shorts? I tried to find a longer pair with a more forgiving stretchy waistband yesterday but no luck. So the old pair remains in the suitcase. 

Maj Jong. A planned retirement community. A pension. Lazy days filled with medical appointments and activities with other seniors. And now, Social Security checks.

Doesn't sound that bad, does it?  I can cope!

;-)

Inside Out

I saw the Disney Pixar movie Inside Out last week when Scott and family were visiting.  I got to peek inside Riley's head and meet Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Fear and Anger. 

Of course I am already acquainted with these guys because they also live in my head.  I also have quite a few more memory pods than Riley does, me being at least 6 times her age.

Anger, Fear and Disgust are certainly not as powerful as they used to be and Joy has definitely emerged as my most powerful emotion. But just like in the movie and inside Riley's head, I find my happiest memories are morphing into more of a combination of Joy and Sadness. Our happiest memories do become a little bittersweet when they include people who are now gone or when we remember we will never again be that young or beautiful. 

And just like in the movie, that's OK.

;-)

Me and the Talking Donkey

When Marlene called and asked if I would do the July 3rd sermon at Friday night services I said "absolutely NO". But then I asked what the Parsha (Torah portion) for that week would be and she said Balaam and the talking donkey. Hmm I thought, I might be able to do something with that. So I called her back and said yes.

I'm glad I did because my little sermon was a Big Success and I am feeling good.  I think most folks liked it because it was short (four minutes) but I received a boatload of compliments on its content, my delivery and the fact that I got to the point quickly and with a bit of humor. A little bit different from the ramblings and attempts to interject personal causes we have had lately in our sermons (we rotate speakers from the congregation members).

So I proudly give you my sermon from last night: 

Last year, our very talented Temple Shalom members put on a hysterically funny original play called “A Funny Thing Happened on the way to The Villages”.  Well, this week’s Parsha also has a bit of humor.  We can think of it as “A Funny Thing Happened on the way to Curse the Children of Israel”.

The story goes like this:  A non-Israelite prophet named Balaam is called upon by the King of Moab - Balak - to curse the Israelites.  Balaam is offered silver and gold to do this and so, driven by his greed, he and his donkey head to the place where he is supposed to curse the Children of Israel.

However, God intervenes and says to Balaam: “You must not curse that people, for they are blessed.”  To make the point, God sends His Angel – who is holding a drawn sword - to block Balaam’s path.  Balaam’s donkey gets the message - even though Balaam does not - and refuses to go further. Balaam starts beating the donkey to get it back on track.

At this point the donkey begins speaking – yes! Speaking just as if he were Mr. Ed - and talks back to Balaam telling him not to go on.  Balaam doesn’t listen and when he finally arrives at the place where he plans to curse the Children of Israel, his mouth opens and words come out but they are only blessings for the Israelites!

Balaam can only say what God desires and so he blesses us a second time and a third time. The third blessing is the one we all know: "How goodly are your tents O Jacob; your dwelling places O Israel".  Mah tovu ohalecha Yaakov. Mesh kehno techa Yisrael.

Now our great scholars have given many interpretations to this story. One is that animals have keen senses and communicate with us all the time. According to my 26^th great-grandfather, Rashi, animals are allowed to see spiritual beings that are blocked from the human eye because human intelligence would cause people to live in constant fear if they could perceive everything around them.

Like my great-grandfather, I too seem to have my own interpretation of everything I read.  I believe one lesson from this story is that we receive messages that tell us what is the right way for us to go and which path should not be an option.  Perhaps it is only Balaam - and of course Shrek - who have talking donkeys to provide us with good advice and wise counsel but we all have the voice within us – the voice that comes from God - to guide us along our way.

Shabbat Shalom!

Aleph Isn't Tough

A little over three months ago I went to my first "Hebrew School" lesson along with 10 other hopeful students who somehow had bypassed this childhood rite of passage. Today we begin the last lesson in our textbook "Aleph Isn't Tough". A milestone!

Can I read Hebrew? Yes! Can I read Hebrew quickly and without mistakes? Sadly, not yet. But I am very proud of myself and I will keep going until I can.

Our brave and highly patient teacher Sara has offered a second class for those of us wishing to learn words and read more. The second textbook is aptly named "Aleph Isn't Enough".

I owe a debt of gratitude to the authors of this series because the lessons are indeed geared to the adult mind. The rote reading and introduction of the seemingly endless letters, vowels and pronunciation rules are interspersed with interesting commentaries on words, prayers and traditions.

I have a secret goal - to become a Bat Mitzvah by my 67th birthday. I am nervous to even say this goal out loud. Apparently even Aleph Isn't Enough is not enough...

;-)

Adjustments

My soul searching reflection for today is on the adjustments we all have to make. Not the big ones like retirement or moving or losing a BFF - no, the little ones like having reading glasses in every room of the house or having to use hair color a little more frequently.  What put this idea into my head this morning? The Donald.

It seems that even he is considering changing his preposterous hairstyle to accommodate his anticipated lifestyle as POTUS. Truth Be Told, I suspect he is getting too bald to keep up the pretense of having hair.

So I am contemplating the small adjustments I myself need to accept as permanent in my own life.  Will I always feel a sporadic twinge of pain from my recent root canals?  Will the scale continue to readjust itself upwards 3 or 4 pounds despite my best efforts to force it down? Will I ever be happy in sleeveless tops? 

I suspect life has more small adjustments in store for me. But yesterday I got a good report from my latest mammogram that put these small nuisances in perspective.

I can adjust!

;-)