Why There's a Plaster Jesus in My Basement, or Another Christmas Blogfrom a Jewish Blogger

Unlike many of my fellow Jews, my Christmas custom is NOT eating Chinese food and going to the movies on Christmas day, although there was a time when I  have done that.  (This Christmas Eve is another story!)

Menorah Christmas Tree= Holiday FAIL

For the past, oh, ten? years we have spent Christmas day driving to Maine.  Not a very festive thing to do, but my father-in-law's birthday is December 26th, and we like to be there to celebrate, and it's really a great day to drive.  No one is on the roads!  This backfired exactly twice when we broke down and, as I say, NO ONE was on the roads. But usually it's smooth sailing and we get up to our igloo away from home in record time.

Some years, like this year, and in years past, we leave for Maine on the 26th,  and attend a wonderful Christmas party with family friends.  We have been going to their party since my brother and I were children, and it's a joy to go now that our own kids are grown. 

But there were years before that when I didn't live around my family, and I had to find other things to do on Christmas. Since I had just come home for Thanksgiving, sometimes I would offer to work over Christmas to let the other people get the time off.

When I lived in San Francisco, I was the case manager a group home for teens who could no longer live at home. We only had six beds, and all six were always filled.  I remember those kids so well, each one has a place in my heart.  Some of them were easy to love, and some of them made themselves a little tougher. Some of them had families who wanted them back, and some of them had families that were so dysfunctional that we could not let them go back, not even for an hour on Christmas. For those kids, we would supervise Christmas or Christmas Eve visits in the living room of our house.  A mysterious donor always send a Christmas tree about a week before, and we would decorate it with a few ancient decorations.  (I learned the word "flocking" at this time.) The kids started to behave better, or worse, depending on what emotions were being drummed up inside.  They usually liked that this was my only Christmas.

We had very strict rules about behavior.  No infractions meant you could go to the store and buy some gifts for your housemates, or family members, if you were still in touch.  But if you had broken rules, you had only on-grounds privileges, and someone else had to do your shopping. The state gave us some money to buy the kids gifts, and some of their parents brought presents, if they knew that a visit was not to be.  We did not have an "angel" or a "sugar daddy." No one thought about these kids as a charity worth a "toy drive" or a "drop off."  They weren't adorable, or pitiful, or glamorous. Just kids who had had it really rough. I was just a kid myself, looking back, just 26.

Ted was violent, but only sometimes.  Other times he was smooth and a ladies man.  He was about 6'1" already, very nice looking, and only 16. He lied as easily at telling the truth. My strongest memory about Ted was the night we caught him drinking and he was about to lose his privileges.  "Ted, you made some bad choices and..." and before I knew it, he had smashed the empty vodka bottle found under his bed and was holding it menacingly in my face.  My heart was racing.  Just at that moment another worker arrived behind him and took the bottle away.  Ted was taken to Juvenile Hall.  I don't know what happened to him.

Shelly had it rough. Her mom simply couldn't handle her. "Take her," she said. She was way more into finding drugs and finding alcohol than finding Shelley after school.  Luckily Shelley found Jesus and the church helped Shelley.  But Shelley never let anyone in again.  Except for me.  Shelley and I are still in touch.

Rosanne was 14 when she arrive at Pathways. She had already had an abortion. Rosanne was the only Jewish kid there when I was there, so I invited her to come to my house to celebrate Hanukkah one night. I knew this was against the rules, but since I was, by now, the manager, I bent the rules when I needed to. She shared her story in the car.  Mom's new husband came to her room every night.  When she told mom about this, Mom slapped her and called her a whore and a liar, and kicked her out on the street.  But Rosanne was pregnant, and she dragged herself to a hospital, who called the state.  After the abortion, she came to us, and we were working on emancipating her when she became 16.

Dwayne was Ted's roommate, and was soft spoken.  He became his true self after Ted left, and we saw a glimmer of joy in his eyes, when he was no longer living in fear of Ted.  He became more and more confident.  His issues were many, stemming from learning disabilities, school anxiety and a single mom who simply gave up on him.  Dwayne had a much older brother who came to visit and brought him home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and gave him a sense of family.

Denise.   Denise was black. I was there the day she was dropped off by her white mom. Her mom was clearly drunk, and Denise was clinging to her. It was a heart wrenching scene.  Her mother loudly announced for all to hear that she was fine with Denise's placement at Pathways.  The court appointed social worker tried to bring us all into my office to finish the paper work, but Denise's mother was anxious to leave.  Her school placement was at an all-girls Catholic school, and it seemed to be a good match for her. 

Her roommate was Kim, our oldest resident, and the big sister to other girls.  Kim had been arrested several times for several different small crimes, each of them just seemed to say "Get me out of my house," and finally she got out.  At 17, she was nearly ready to be on her own.  Her grades were good, she had a part time job, and I had just gotten her a checking account.  Our latest mini-battle with Kim was the amount of time she wanted to spend with her boyfriend. 

So it  was Christmas.  It was my third year at Pathways, so I knew the drill.  We started nice and early working to find places for the kids to go, because with troubled families (and with healthy ones) things can always go wrong.  All the kids were in the group home on Christmas Eve Day, so we did our present exchange that day.

By Christmas Eve, a few of the kids had places to go.  Those who were there were treated to a nice dinner, cooked by me (usually the kids took turns cooking as part of the therapy of becoming independent).  We watched a Christmas movie on TV and drank hot cocoa. (I always offered to take the shifts because I was the only Jewish employee.)

I put a few gifts I had bought for the last few kids under the tree.  The only one who had nowhere to go on Christmas Day was Denise.  Once everyone was gone, I broke the news to her.  She was coming with me, and my husband to spend Christmas with us.

This was, of course, against the rules. She didn't have off-ground privileges, and she wasn't supposed to go in the car with me.  And neither of those minor details was going to stop me.  Denise got all dressed up in her nicest clothes, coat and scarf, and we were off.   

I drove her up to my apartment, picked up my husband and we headed into San Francisco.  Looking into my rear view mirror I could see she was bubbling with excitement.

First stop...Chinatown!   Our Christmas dinner was a Chinese feast of dumplings, wonton soup and spareribs!  It was all a first for her, and she loved it.

Then, off to the movies, to see the new Star Trek movie.  She had been to the movies before, but not for a very long time, and she was thrilled.  

We had a great time, and it was a lot of fun to treat Denise to a special day, even if it was not exactly the most traditional Christmas for her.

Then back to the Pathways by 5:30 or so, when the next shift of staff was to arrive and the other kids were arriving back, with their stories of dysfunction, fighting and complaining.  And Denise smiling ear to ear.

After Christmas, we made sure things get back to normal very quickly because it stirs up so much for the kids. But after school one day, Denise came into my office and said she had a surprise for me.  She handed me a wrapped gift, tissue paper, ribbon, the works.  

"Merry Late Christmas, and Happy Hanukkah, and Happy New Year too. I made you this in art class.  Thanks for the best Christmas I have ever had."

She stood there while I opened it.  It was this plaster Jesus head.  She was bursting with pride.  

I have treasured it and kept it ever since.  When my kids were little I hid it, so they would not be confused.  How do you explain why a Jewish family has a plaster Jesus in the basement?   But there's nothing confusing about helping someone feel loved and celebrate her holiday.  

So, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and I wish you all the love and joy of the season.

Why I'm Crocheting

I am crocheting a cap. 
I'll finish this project if it kills me.

Oh. Why did I use that phrase? It won't kill me. It may frustrate me, but I'm healthy and strong and I'm crocheting this blue mess of yarn in memory of a boy I didn't even know.

Two things I do know:  I learned how to crochet in eighth grade.  And I don't follow written instructions very well.  I've already torn out eight or nine rows of this thing.  After every few rows I hold it up an say, "this looks nothing like a cap."

So, what's the story behind this?  Like the movie Titanic, you already know the ending.  Tragically, the little boy didn't make it. 

His family's story is not mine to share. 

Here's mine.

Last year I was at a dinner party on a weekend while I was working in Vancouver, Washington.  At the table, we were having great conversations about life, family, work, and the topic came to blogs. Three of the guests, two of whom are rabbis, were discussing the blog of their friend Phyllis.  

"Juliet,  do you know Phyllis?  Do YOU read her blog?
"No, I don't know her, I don't know about her blog."
"She writes a great one, just like you. You should really read it."

Hmm, okay.  With that little compliment thrown in there, how could I not check out Phyllis' blog.  After dinner that night, back in my hotel room, I found it via a link on the rabbi's Facebook page.  

After about one minute, it was clear that Phyllis was not just like me.  She was not blithely blogging about Eric Clapton, or smartwool socks, or posting pictures of her dogs frolicking the snow.  She wasn't even throwing out some good classroom tips or education stories. Phyllis was Rabbi Phyllis Sommer.  And her son, nicknamed Superman Sam, was currently in remission, having gone through treatment for Leukemia.  Her honest, almost poetic, way with words made me want to keep reading, and I read it...learning her story on a backwards timeline.

It was painful.  I closed my laptop.  But I couldn't turn off my mind. That's when I became part of this extended family that Phyllis Sommer lets in with her honesty.

I have finished that job in Washington, and moved on to jobs much closer to home, here in New Jersey.  I remain close to the rabbi there, Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker, as well as the other rabbi, Rabbi Josh Caruso and his wife, Leah, who were at the dinner party that night.  And I continue to read the blog about Superman Sam.  I read that his cancer came back.  I read that they were frustrated by limited number of treatments left to them.

I read that they decided to take their other children out of school so that Sam could see Israel.  

And I read that he is out of treatment options.

And I cry when I read this.  

I have known many families who have lost children before.  I have cried with them.  I have led shiva minyanim for them.  But where does this emotion come from now?   I can only think that it is because this woman (this incredibly brave and honest woman) has shared her story so openly, that I feel I have been let in.  And it's touched my heart.  And it brings up feelings of loss and heartache that are as real as if I know the Sommer family personally.

On December 3, Rabbi Dunsker, and 35 other Reform rabbis posted that they were shaving their heads.  Shaving their heads?  What? Yes! And asking people to pledge any amount which will go to pediatric cancer research.  Great!  Click, credit card, send. Easy. I donate in memory of a special young girl who lost her battle to cancer.  I feel better.

I read Phyllis' blog.  Sam is dying. He's withdrawing. I read and re-read.  I can't stop thinking about this tragic scene.  I call my three kids and don't mention this at all. I just joke with them and talk about when we will be together over winter vacation.

I need to do more.

My heart is breaking.  Sam represents every family who has gone through this and every family who will. 

Then I see that Leah Caruso has posted a simple question on Facebook... asking if anyone can knit or crochet.  "I can do both," I quickly answer.  (This is true, though she doesn't know that my special learning disability keeps me from following patterns.  I don't do well with recipes either.  Come to think of it, I don't love rules, but that's another story.)  I immediately know what she's up to... caps for bald rabbis, and if we get enough people, extra caps to sell, to raise more money for St. Baldricks, the organization chosen by the rabbis.

I fly into action.  I organize my elective class in Wyckoff, NJ to agree to TRY to learn to crochet as I tell them Sammy's story, and then my friend, Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker's brave response.  I buy the right yarn and crochet hooks for me and for the class.

"This looks nothing like a cap."

I start crocheting like mad.  I go onto YouTube and make sure I am doing it correctly after all this time (I was, but I hope I can teach it to non-lefties!) and I buy a crochet booklet to learn the abbreviations.

An impending snowstorm may mean that work is cancelled and more time to work on the cap.





And then I see that Superman Sam, age 8, has died.

I find mistakes in my work, and unravel it.  

The yarn feels heavier in my hands.  It looks suddenly different.  Darker.

I'm making this in Sam's memory, not in his honor now.

I'm determined to finish.  But it's just so sad.  At first I was going to ask if we could please pick other colors, but now blue is the only color it could possibly be.

This is the picture that his mother posted.

Following this blog, I'll share links so you can donate, knit, crochet or read more about this tragically short life.  If all you do is click "like," then I just wasted two hours of typing.  Please consider donating.  As we teach our children, even a small donation makes a big difference.  Each of the rabbis has a goal, and I'm positive that none would mind surpassing that goal.

May Samuel Sommer's memory be a blessing and may each of us go forward and make a difference for having known this story. 

Click here to read the blog that started it all : Rabbis Phyllis and Michael Sommer's  Superman Sam

Funeral information and more click here

To make a donation to the St. Baldricks Fund click here. 

To learn about how your can knit or crochet, please message me or reply to this blog.  That is being handled on a smaller scale.

More articles and other blogs to read:
The Times of  Israel: Superman Sam 

Information about the logo

Good-bye Superman Sam from a Pissed off God

How to help the newly bereaved

Yes, Elizabeth, there is a Thanksgivukkah

I'm celebrating Thanksgivukkah tomorrow.  

I know many of my colleagues have written blog posts,  Facebook updates and tweets telling the world we should stop mixing the two holidays.  But guess what folks.  We have no choice!  Hanukkah begins tonight at sundown, (the 25th of Kislev) making tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, the first day of Hanukkah.  If you are an American Jew, you are celebrating both on the same day.  And it's FINE!

What's to worry about?  Are you afraid we will Americanize Hanukkah?  Are you worried we will start giving gifts on Thanksgiving?  (Actually my mom has been giving chocolate turkeys to the kids since forever... kind of like gelt... hmmm... maybe there is some crossover.)

The truth is, and you'll know this if you read my last blog about Thanksgiving (click here to read it again) my kids have always thought Thanksgiving WAS a Jewish holiday.   Look at the evidence:  1. We are Jews. 
2. There is ritual involved... we say the shehechyanu (a prayer expressing our thankfulness of being back together and reaching this auspicious time) candles on the table (though no blessing) and we go around the table and say what we are thankful for and we get our flu shots 3. there's a huge meal for which 4. we are a little bit dressed up and 5. the good dishes are used.  

And then there's Hanukkah... which always falls on the 25th of Kislev, which whether you are Jewish or not, you'll know that could be any time between November and January.  A fun holiday, great for kids, a big hit in the Religious School world, but not necessarily in the religious world.  

So why are people getting so worked up that we are mashing them up together like a delicious concoction of latkes and cran-appple sauce?  

American Gothikkah
Some people found this one a bit offensive

One signifies our the Jewish people's freedom from oppression, the other celebrates the American people's day of thanks for the bounty.  You want to get real nit-picky, go ahead. Want to go all negative?  Save it for your grown-up talk when the kids go to sleep.  Let's have fun.  These holidays are fun, and  are meant to celebrate the best things:  Freedom, lights, appreciation, family.  I am fairly certain they go together as about well as latkes and turkey, which by they way, will be deep fried in oil this year, at our celebration.

What else will we be doing?  Well, lighting the menorah and giving gifts, of course.  Because for the first time in many years, I will get to celebrate Hanukkah with MY children, who do not live home any more.  Thanks to this fluke of the calendar, I will have my three children lighting the Hanukkiah (Hanukkah menorah) together, not just with their parents, but with their grandparents and cousins! Maybe the kids will be getting chocolate gelt and chocolate turkeys!

My T shirt from ModernTribe.com
I have been wearing it every day.

Parents, I don't think that your children will complain in perpetuity that they do not get gifts every Thanksgiving.  I think if you do this one up right, your families, like mine, will remember with a smile, that funky year when the secular and the Jewish calendars collided and we got to celebrate both together.  And eat jelly donuts with our pumpkin pie.

Other "mashups" I've heard of out there: 

• menurkey (or menurky): referring to a menorah in the shape of a turkey
• gobbletov: a silly made up greeting usable just this once
• and my favorite Tur-brisk-a-fil ... like a turducken, except this delicacy, just in time for Thanksgiving, is a turkey, stuffed brisket, stuffed with gefilte fish!  Hold me back! (No, seriously, hold me back.)

That's enough, I think I've made my point and anyway it's time to make the latkes for the Thanksgiving feast.  

And yes, I did sew tiny little yarmulkes onto the heads of the turkeys on the banquet-sized tablecloth I got for my mom at Bed Bath and Beyond. 

Always look on the bright side of life...

Did Monty Python come up with that?  I know that's the song that's going through my head this morning...
(Click here to see that clip from the movie, but please come back to the blog afterwards, okay?)

I fell down the stairs yesterday.

It's not as bad as it sounds.
Well, maybe it's actually worse than it sounds.

My little cat Jinx is dying very sick.  (Stay with me.  There will be a bright side to this.)

In the words of our very good, but not-exactly-a-people-person vet, "he's living on borrowed time."
Jinxy has been a good little cat all these years (11 1/2), or let's say 11 and 1/3.  

I did not name him after the cat from "Meet the Parents." I named him after a bartender I knew in Durham, North  Carolina, named Jenks.  The best story I remember about Jenks is this : It was Christmas Eve, 1983. I took the shift at the bar (why not?) and Jenks was there having his usual...a vodka and coffee. (Redbull had not been invented yet.)  The crowd had died out, it was the regulars and the staff... We were playing the music loud. Suddenly Jenks jumps up and grabs the Christmas garland, drapes it over his shoulders like a feather boa and before I know what's happening : Jenks is strutting his stuff and singing his heart out to "Santa Baby" dancing on my nice clean bar top.  It's been one of my favorite Christmas songs ever since!

Where was I? Oh, Jinxy.

The last month or so he's been getting a bit yucky, as animals do when they are reaching the pre-death stage of decrepitude.  I think this helps making the good-bye a little easier.  I don't mean to sound so callous, but to put it right out there, Jinx has been completely missing the cat box for about 2 months now.  He smells terrible. I could go on, but I think you get the idea already and I'm bumming myself out.

So I've been doing my best to clean up after him BEFORE stepping in his messes, and trying to remember the good times, but he's taken a bad turn.  As of now, he's still drinking water, and eating very expensive, special, canned, gooey, stinky food, into which I have to mash a pill, and stir it with a spoon.  (Of course it has to be me.)

When I got home from work last night, after a very long day, I mixed up this revolting concoction and brought it downstairs, to the cozy little spot he's chosen to spend his remaining days.  But I missed a step on the wood stairs and slipped down five stairs on my back.  Getting his foul-smelling brown slop all over my linen pants and wool sweater.  Landing hard on my butt and wrist onto the tile.  AND, right into the cat's random poop, which was several feet away from the catbox, as usual.  

I did not curse.  There is no singular curse that exists for OUCH-YUCK-SHIT-WOW, REALLY OUCH-GROSS-UGHCH-. and besides, my young,  niece was upstairs, and she's a high school junior.  I didn't want to shock or offend her innocent ears.

So I picked myself up, and gave the cat what was left in the bowl. I pet him and tried to show him a little love, and cleaned myself off.  I changed my clothes and took an Advil with a healthy swallow of a Seabreeze.   I went in to tell my husband what happened, and he had no clue at all that I had fallen down the stairs, and, in fact, forgot that Jinx was sick. 

Jinx, in September of 2013

I hobbled to the couch and put on the tv.  An infomercial was advertising Carol Burnett's DVD. And I thought about how comical this story could seem, telling this story in a few years.  Okay, days. Okay, so I'm telling it now.  Because sometimes you just have to laugh.  Because sitting there, despite my already aching back, sore wrist and smelling like cat food, I remembered that my life doesn't suck. My kids are healthy, so are my parents.   I remembered that the reason my niece was hanging out here is because her other grandmother (my sister-in-law's mom) just had a stroke, and my brother and sister-in-law had to rush up to New Hampshire to be with her. She's doing much better as I type this, but that's the big stuff, and we can pull together as a family to do whatever they need us to do.

We have a roof over our heads and food on the table.  

I have to get to work, but I thought you'd enjoy that little glimpse into a moment in my life.  For a look into the lives of two people who right now are living extraordinary lives, I am sharing the links to two blogs I've been following.  Both will make you feel  grateful for what you have, and both will  might even make you want to do more for others.  At this time of Thanksgiving, I hope you find them meaningful, as I do.

I started both of these stories from the middle, and worked backwards and then forwards.  The are both compelling and both made me cry. They are both a lot bigger than losing a beloved cat and falling down the stairs.  I thank both of these sincere brave women for sharing their personal stories with the world and putting it all out there.

Click here to read about Rabbi Phyllis' story about her son Superman Sam's battle with Cancer
Click here to read about Rabbi Tziona's journey to become a parent.

Stay in touch people.  We all need each other.  When we see each other remember to hug.  (I promise I don't still smell like catfood.)

Update: 12/17/13 :  Jinx is alive and darting around the house.  He's on life #6 or #7 I guess. My bruised derriere is mended, my sister-in-law's mother is doing very well, and life goes on.

Update: 1/10/14 

Jinx died in his sleep last night. He was a good little cat, and I'm much sadder than I thought I'd be. 

Thursday Was Definitely Not Pasta Day

Well, Guido Barilla most got his fifteen minutes of fame, and his anti-gay comments went globally viral.  No one is shocked that people still have anti-gay sentiments, but I think we are all a little amazed when people, corporate owners with a LOT at stake, announce them to the world!  I'll quote him here directly so I don't leave anything out... and also because he managed to put down the role of women, and take a swipe at same-sex couples' adoption...

"I would never do [a commercial] with a homosexual couple, not for lack of respect but because we don't agree with them," said Guido Barilla, according to a Reuters translation. "Ours is a classic family where the woman plays a fundamental role. … If [gays] don't like it, they can go eat another brand."

Just to drive his point home, Barilla added, "I have no respect for adoption by gay families because this concerns a person who is not able to choose," according to a translation from the U.K. Independent."Everyone has a the right to do what they want without disturbing those around them."

 http://www.advocate.com/politics/2013/09/26/barilla-gays-eat-someone-elses-pasta

Wow.  Bad enough he still thinks that way.  Please, don't try to explain to me that Italy is a "macho country" and they need a few more years to catch up, or that one person doesn't represent the entire company.  He does when his name happens to be Barilla.

 Here's what I posted on the company Facebook page... 

Good news. A "traditional" family now can have two dads or two moms, or a single parent, or be a multi-generational household, or a blended family or an adopted family... We all make new traditions in every generation and I think for many of us, Barilla products will not be part of our vast, colorful, diverse celebration of the human experience. You really blew it, Guido

I didn't really expect an answer.  But a little while later, this apology appears on the Barilla Facebook Page.  

At Barilla, we consider it our mission to treat our consumers and partners as our neighbors – with love and respect – and to deliver the very best products possible. We take this responsibility seriously and consider it a core part of who we are as a family-owned company. While we can’t undo recent remarks, we can apologize. To all of our friends, family, employees, and partners that we have hurt or offended, we are deeply sorry.*

 https://www.facebook.com/BarillaUS

Hey, my post (well, okay, and the thousands of others on Facebook in several languages, and on Twitter as well, hashtags: #boycottbarilla or #boicottbarilla) really got to him.
Or them. 
That looks like a nice apology.
And words are important, but so are actions.  I'm absolutely sure they ARE deeply sorry.  So let's see if they are sorry because one man spoke about how he felt and didn't represent the company, or they are sorry they are going to lose a lot of money and respect worldwide.  

In Judaism, we understand that true repentance, teshuvah, is making a different choice, when faced with the same set of circumstances the next time.  So I guess we will wait for the next ad campaign.

When their Facebook page looks like this

And doesn't make us think of this

Then we can stop boycotting this brand, and show that we appreciate a company who admits their mistakes, as egregious as they may be, and knows how to grow up. 

Peace, love and equality for ALL!

Juliet



*To which I responded: 
Words are good, and important. Your actions in the next few days will be even more important. The damage done by Guido Barilla was devastating and the ripples go far beyond the LGBT community. The world is watching. Do the right thing.

By the way, I did have some Barilla Pasta in my pantry.  I'm not a food waster, so I collected the few boxes and donated it to a food drive. I won't buy any more, but I will also not throw food in the garbage.

September Reflections 2013

On the occasion of turning triple chai ... If I did the math right (which I may not have), the heaviness of the anniversary of September 11, and the awesomeness of the Days of Awe, (the days between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur)...  I felt the need to share once again with a blog.  And a list.  

54 things I love, and you might too.  Here we go.

In no particular order.  If I can't come up with 54, I'll welcome your additions.  Even if I can.

1. LOVE. LOVE. LOVE.  
2. FAMILY, in my case... My kids, my parents,  my in-laws, and brother, brothers-in law and their families.
3. GOOD FRIENDS
(yes, these are pretty classic, but you'd think I had my priorities wrong if I started with Patron Tequila.  Come on, you know that's true..)
4. MUSIC! (I have  feeling this will show up a few times.) In this case, let's go with FAVORITE MUSIC.
5. PETS (Though lately my house has been a vomitorium... but okay, that's not really what I want to focus on here.)
6. DANCE! Here's my suggestion: Go out and hear your favorite music, or crank it up loud in the kitchen.  At a certain point you realize that no one really cares how you look when you are dancing, unless you specifically draw attention to yourself, or you are as awkward as Elaine Benes.
7. GARDENING: I love growing something you can eat!  The tomatoes, cucumbers and basil I grew this summer were delicious.

Don't they look great?

8. PHOTOS.  I love looking at old pictures. Try this for yourself.  I have been having fun finding old photos and scanning them and putting them on Facebook and waiting for the comments to come pouring in.  Better than the comments are the memories.  I've also found it makes me slow down a little and and take time to just look at pictures which in this digital age, I realize I do not do.  I do a mental scan now.  I zip through, find the best one, pop it up online, delete the rest and move on.

Twinkle Toes... Me at age 7. 

9. JUDAISM, And working in this field of Jewish Education, my calling, which has brought me great joy and pride.
10. BIRKENSTOCK OR NAOT SANDALS (or shoes... they're so comfortable)

10a. Any cool shoes.  
11. DISCOVERING A NEW APP FOR YOUR IPHONE OR IPAD THAT YOU REALLY DO NEED!
12. FINDING OUT YOU HAVE A DAY OFF YOU DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD
13. WRITE A LETTER TO SOMEONE INSTEAD OF AN EMAIL.
14. THE SOUND OF A BABY'S LAUGHTER WHEN YOU DON'T EXPECT IT.
15. CAMPARI TOMATOES
16. PATRON TEQUILA, or Milagro, also great and less expensive.
17. BOB DYLAN'S "BLOOD ON THE TRACKS" pretty much any time, anywhere.  Especially if you have a touch of the blues. But really anytime.
18.  I'm tired of typing in all caps.  Find a way to GIVE BACK. Clothing , books, time! The days when I start my day by dropping off bags of clothing in the basement of the church nearby where they give them to people in need are good days. Lots of schools require community service of our kids. Why not require it of yourself?
19. A Good Book.  I have not been taking the time to read.  All summer I tried to read one book because I felt I should.  Dang it. I missed out on reading a great book and losing myself in it.  Which leads me to...
20. Go to the library.  My grandmother taught me this one, and I forgot it for a long time.  But you can really lose yourself in the library.  Hey, it's just like Barnes and Noble, but you don't have to pay!
21. All the Harry Potter books! I'm jealous if you never read them!  But even if you have... you can re-read them, or give yourself a gift and listen to Jim Dale read them to you (on tape, cd, or digitally).  The movies are great too.
22. Go do something out of your comfort zone. 
23. Embrace Color.  I'm not sure why little kids, Noah, and the Gays suddenly have the sole rights to the rainbow, but it's really for all of us. Wear colors! Shoes, socks, hair... It's all good and it looks great on you.
24. Sushi
25. French Fries
26. An artichoke with lemon butter sauce
27. Anything with lemon butter sauce (and capers)  I'd eat a shoe if it had lemon-butter sauce, but then again, I love shoes.

American Beauty

28. Lobster
29. "Freaks and Geeks"
30. An unexpected phone call.  Even if you're the one who makes it.
31. A delicious ice cold beer on a hot day.  Better if it's been sitting a bucket of ice.  Best if it's not a light beer.
32. "Silverado"
33. "American Beauty"
34. Pretty much any new Western or baseball movie.
35. "Quah"
36. Finding out someone is pregnant,  about to adopt a baby, or engaged. I think my mush tolerance got all messed up when I became a mom, but I somehow my eyes get all watery when I hear this kind of news. 
37. Suet.   Not for me, of course, but for the birds.  You can buy a square of bird seed in brick of suet and hang it outside by your window, and it will attract birds all year long. (Though you should really only feed them in the winter.)  This is a pleasure of mine, just watching the brightly colored birds landing on the little block of fat and seeds and pecking away.  Woodpeckers, cardinals and blue jays are my favorites.  I have a bird identifying app on my iPhone and a bird book by the window in case an exotic new one comes along.  I realize that this may make me seem like I'm about 100 years old, but it brings me joy, it's safe, legal and completely non-fattening... provided that I do not eat the suet.
38. One Hit Wonder: Every once in a while, put the oldies station on.  And you'll thank me.  You'll hear that one song you haven't heard since high school or middle school that reminds you of your crush. Or your first broken heart.  Or the day you got your driver's license.  If you're like me,  you might even take out the iPhone and buy it on the spot.  Or if you're like normal people, you'll enjoy the moment and get back to work.
39. The Jewish holiday of Sukkot.
40. Smart Wool Socks
41. Beads!  Buying them, creating with them, wearing them, and presenting them to others.

Terrapin necklace, given to a bff

42. "Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs"
43.  Going out for a really great meal.
44. "Paul McCartney Unplugged"
45. Sharing a laugh, a real laugh, with someone. That someone tends to be someone in my family.
Look at that, how easy it was to come up with 45 things I love... just 9 more...

46. Road Trips! 
47. Live Music, Concerts, and my new thing... Festivals!
48. Photography...taking a great photo is very satisfying
49. Teaching.  I know I mentioned it above, but I love what I do, and teaching is a part of it.
50. Social Media: no denying... I'm very happy with the various types of ways to connect... Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest.  Sometimes time-wasters... sometimes valuable tools.  I'm getting better at figuring out the fine line between the two.
51. Cooking a really delicious meal at home and not having to clean up.
52. Grateful Dead, Furthur, Phil Lesh and Bob Weir and Jerry Garcia (z"l)... Well, there can't be a list without a thank you to these guys who, for most of my life (since age 17) have brought me joy. Before them my list was
53. Beach Boys, Billy Joel, David Bowie and THE BEATLES. My musical foundation.  Not too bad.
54. Every beautiful day makes me feel grateful. I love being outdoors and I know I'll look back on these perfect days when the bad weather comes.

and ... one to grow on...
55. I'm grateful to be healthy and alive.  You don't need to be a cancer survivor to feel this way.  It doesn't need to be September 11 or almost Yom Kippur for me to say how thankful I am to have reach this day, this time, this season surrounded by beauty and love.

May this year be a year of love, peace, family, laughter, music, good friends, good health for us all, while we still work together for a better tomorrow for our children and our children's children.

Me, on 9/8/13 

Have any to add?  Please do, by posting in the comment section. It may take a while but your comments will appear after I retrieve them from the spam folder. 

Also, as I wrote this on September 11, if you would like to take a moment to hear or read first hand accounts of that tragic day, this is a great website and organization, especially for educators. September 11 Tribute Center

Editor's Note September 12... feedback from the blog... Okay, for number 5, I should mention that I love my dogs, the two who are living, Bear and Scout, and beloved Jerry who passed away...(and lets not forget my childhood pooches, Shadow and Tzatzkeleh).  I love them to pieces, and they may have gotten short shrift in this blog due to the fact that they've been sick and costing us a fortune at the vet and making a general pooping vomitty mess lately. I also love Jinx the cat and Jack Straw the Turtle, but let's face it, I adore the dogs and they love me back.  In fact, Scout is sleeping on my feet right now.

Scout as a puppy, the cutest.

Handsome Bear

Addenda: Rusted Root (excellent Band), Dark Star Orchestra (phenomenal band!), Spring, Summer and Fall, and my new and absolutely gorgeous cowboy boots! Life is full of favorite things! I can't believe I forgot these in the first draft! 

JB

Lets finish off that Peach

The Peach Festival.  Chapters 1 - 7 can be found by scrolling back, or up, or whatever...  I felt that the blog was getting too long.  Here we have the final few chapters, thoughts, musings, photos and ramblings about my time at the Peach Festival...August 15 - 18, 2013 at Montage Mountain near Scranton, PA.  If you are a linear type person, and A type personality, or have been following along, that post comes before this one. Otherwise it doesn't much matter.

It's been exactly a week since I found myself immersed in a 4-day music festival featuring bands I know and love.  I could have stayed longer... the weather was perfect, the site was great, the company delightful.  I was in my element.  But all good things (and luckily bad things too) must come to an end, so I have decided to write about it and share my perspective on it... or some of it at least.  It's as much for me, to come back to it and read it and remember it, as it is for you out there in blog-land.

DEAD-ERCISE
Just a note about this... If you want to lose a few pounds, I recommend a four-day weekend of seeing music on  lovely mountainside spot.  With all the walking and dancing and the terrible and expensive food, this could really be a great weight-loss program for Deadheads.  Think about it.  I suppose you'd have to cut out the beer to really make all that calorie burning pay off, but I'll tell you with the water park and all that shlepping, it was quite the workout each day. 

Well, at least this guy is sleeping with his dog.

CONCERT ETIQUETTE
Okay, I don't want to get preachy or judgy here... but obviously just by saying that it's clear I'm about to do both.  
PETS:  Don't bring them.  If you can figure out how to come to a show like this, then you can figure out what to do with your dog.  (Or cat, tho I've never seen a cat in someone's car.)  There's no way this is ever okay for your dog, living in your car while you are at the show, then being walked in the hot parking lot, and then getting back in the car.  
KIDS:  Yea, I brought my kids to a concert here and there when they were growing up.  But not a 4-day festival.  Kids need their routine, their food, their beds, toys, structure.  But okay.  If you do bring your kids... take care of them.  Nothing ruins my great mood more than this sentence, "She's lost her kid, someone help her."

What can I say.  I love my kids more than I love the music.  Maybe that's why my first festival was after my youngest son went to college.

Okay, I'm off my high horse.  I won't even mention bathroom etiquette, talking during songs, or cigarettes... 

Let's talk about why we even GO to the festival in the first place....

THE MUSIC and trying not to be OCD* about it.

Bobby

I love the music I love... well who doesn't?  I love being right up front, getting swept away by exciting new music. I like it really loud. I like the music to take me to new heights.  I like to hear a singer sing a phrase I've heard all my life and letting me hear it like I've never heard it before.  I get very excited watching two guitar players trade off the lead in a song seamlessly.  Three guitar players? Even better.  Love watching a jam among players who know each other so well that they intuit where they're going and miraculously a new song unfolds from what sounded like chaos a moment ago.  Delicious harmonies bringing new understanding to a song I thought I totally knew... but now wait a sec... what are they doing here... singing it in a minor key??? WHAT??? And I feel tears in my eyes that I don't even understand.  

I know people can relate to this, even if you don't like the same music I like.  The problem is at a festival like the Peach, there are bands playing at all times on three stages.  Starting at about 1:00 in the afternoon.  And those stages aren't near each other.  So that's a lot of running back and forth (HEY! They're the guys from moe. Come on!) 

or it's a moment of clarity where I say to myself...

"Juliet... you spend your life running around getting from place to place.  The people with you don't care that much.  They would be happy to just hang out.  Slow down and relax."

So I did exactly that.  I didn't go see Cabinet a second time, or run from stage to stage, or clamber to the front for Government Mule.  And it was all okay.  I had a great time hanging out with my friends Iris and Rob, and my husband Michael, on the lawn. I took pictures, created some jewelry, and even sold one of my bracelets (for $10 and a Rice Krispies Treat).   Later we packed up and moved up nice and close and I got back to my slight obsession with the music.

Pretty fancy display...

I realized that this festival was not just about the music, though the music was fantastic. It was about riding a ski lift to the top of the mountain just to ride it back down and take pictures and have a few laughs. It was about sleeping late. It was about relaxing with my husband and my friends.  It was about having a beer in the parking lot and letting things go one last time before my work becomes so intense that I might forget how to do this for a while.   

So, now what?  I found out Cabinet was playing tonight right nearby... But it was my mom's birthday so we all went out to dinner to celebrate.   I'll be scouring the paper, the internet and my email to see when the next music fix will be. While I'm writing this I've been listening to Ratdog's set from Friday night at the Peach.  And I've uploaded all my photos so I can attach a link to this blog in case the ones I've included here aren't enough.   As I conclude this lengthy blog I know that it means it's time to go back to reality.

Except Bobby just started playing Loose Lucy...

So, reality?  Maybe tomorrow.

Thank you.  For a real good time.

This is the link to my Picasa photo album if you want to see more.
I think.

https://plus.google.com/photos/101888049983386479881/albums/5914968144397249537?banner=pwa


*OCD : meaning: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, meaning... needing to hear all the music and not miss a note, at the expense of socializing with friend and relaxing in the sun.

A Byte of a Peach

Chapter One: It Begins

Greetings from beautiful Montage Mountain near Scranton.  I am at a 4-day music festival, and I will attempt to blog it as I go... the perspective of a 53 year old woman diving in head first to a weekend of fun.  

I have been to festivals like this before, but usually I go for one day, the day when my favorite bands are all neatly lined up in a row.  I knew what to expect, as much as anyone could without having been to this site, as far as the "scene" was concerned, and I'll try to describe that to you.  And full disclosure, I am not camping at the concert site itself, but staying at a very comfortable, clean Marriott with shuttle bus service (we hope!) to and from the venue.

The author and her husband take a selfie.  Yep, having fun so far.

So why now?  Because it's the anniversary of Woodstock? (It is, but no, that's not it.)  Because we can suddenly afford to do this kind of thing? (No, not really, in fact, I don't get paid during July and August and we need a new roof. Frankly things are quite tight in the Barr household!) Well, then, it must be because we are empty nesters and we are living the dream! (Again no, and not a midlife crisis thing either.)  It's because of the line-up of music at this particular festival and the perfect timing of it as well.  I have come to really love the Allman Brothers (over the last 15 years) and my favorite, Mr. Bob Weir and his band Ratdog are headlining this mighty event.  Not to mention Rusted Root and the Black Crowes and a host of other bands that I either like or am destined to like! (Click here to see what your are missing while you are reading this blog.)

So here's my thinking.  I am here, and experiencing this great, exciting, exhausting, exhilarating experience for the first time.  Mixing it up with the teens, the Deadheads, the Allman Brother fans (who are not exactly the same as Deadheads, though there's an overlap), the locals who are just here because, well, why not and the families who came to Montage Mountain to take their kids to the water park and are probably wondering, WTF is going on here! I'm here with some good friends and my husband. There are people of all ages, and to be sure, we are among the older generation, but certainly not the oldest. 

I will try to update this blog from an app I have on my phone, and include pictures.  

Of course this means finding my reading glasses and increasing the font on my iPhone.  
But I think it will be a fun experiment in live-blogging.   Did I just invent that?

Rock on.
Chapter two

Strangers stopping strangers, or "Are you Juliet?" 

I guess it's not too surprising that at an event like this, I'd run into one or two people that I know. And it's been happening at an alarming rate! A religious school principal from Long Island that I've gotten to know from Jewish education conferences, a 21 year old friend who advised me on what to pack (who I saw about 15 minutes after I arrived), a guy we met on a Jamaican vacation, and the most surprising: A woman who said : "Are you Juliet Barr? "

Me: "Um, yes..."

I know for a fact I don't recognize her. Could it be? The blog????

No...

The woman: "Didn't you go to the Grateful Dead Movie recently? Sunshine Daydream? At Clifton?"

I did in fact. Yikes. A stalker ?

She continues: "You commented on that website and asked where people were meeting up. You look just like your picture! I'm Kari!" 

She did not look like her picture, which was a kitty wearing a tie-dye bandana. 

Ok, back to the music. 

Chapter 3: 1:09 am Saturday 

Wow! What a night of music! I'll write more tomorrow from my computer but while I'm still buzzing from the hours of dancing to great guitar gods, here are some highlights: 

•Railroad Earth and Cabinet! Great bands that I had never heard before and will absolutely go hear again! These guys can really play, harmonize and both bands bring several genres together.  I am excited for the future of live music when I hear this kind of stuff. 

•Bob Weir's set was AMAZING!! "Althea," a favorite of mine, did not seem to be a favorite of his, but he was just great on everything else. " Easy to Slip" may have been the most special surprise. Most annoying was his flirtation with Grace Potter, when he called her out for "Dear Prudence" and "I Know You Rider."  Still sporting the man capris, but he looks great to me!

• Allmans were great, especially when Greg let Warren take the lead. A nice surprise came near the end of the set when they invited Bob Weir back out for a very bluesy "Good Morning Little School Girl." 

And remember in chapter two, I mentioned an educator friend that I had run into here? Amazing karma connected us where we needed to be. Her seats were right next to mine! I enjoyed the show with her tonight and look forward to spending time with her again tomorrow. I still can't get over that! A photo will be coming soon of the two of us. 

I can't wait for tomorrow!!

Chapter 4

Derek Trucks, Warren Haynes, and Steve Kimock. Yea. 

Chapter 5

Different font to show that I am no longer at the festival. Yes, that's right. It's Sunday night, and I'm home.  You know how they say they have charging stations? Well, they CHARGE you to charge your phone at those charging stations.  Big scam.  So my brilliant plan to live blog while at the festival... well as brilliant as it was... turned out to be a good old fashioned plan to keep a hand written journal which I am now transcribing into my blog.  And it's probably better this way.  I can edit.  I can add photos. Did I mention I can edit?  So here we go.

Chapter 6:  My husband sometimes sleeps at concerts.

Deadheads are very forgiving about this.  Looking back, he has a long history of concert-napping, and if you've been a fan as long as we have, then you might even kind of get it. Remember those old shows?  Come on... there were about 20 minutes between EACH SONG!! So think about the second set of a Grateful Dead show in about 1979 or 1980... drum solo followed by a really long instrumental tuneless jam ... some of us might go use the bathroom and get a snack.  And others, MANY others, I might add, would use that time for a quick (30 minute) power nap.  (Except we didn't call them power naps back then.  We called them Drums ->Space, but not the point.)  

As I mentioned earlier (chapter 3) we had assigned seats for the headliners of the show on Friday and Saturday nights at the Peach Fest.  I sat next to my new/old friend Karen, from the education world, and my husband Michael found himself next to a great guy, Mick, and Mick's friends Pat and Amy.  (Those ARE their real names.  Hi if you happen to read this! The friends we came to the show with were in the next section over.) Somewhere during the Allman Brothers' set on Friday night, Michael dozed off, as he is wont to do. Mick gave me a look, I smiled back and asked him to please keep his voice down, so we wouldn't wake him.  When the music picked up, Michael woke up and rocked on 'til the end of the show.

Fast forward to Saturday afternoon.  Michael and I are hanging out by our car, enjoying cocktail hour before the show.  Along come Mick, Pat and Amy... another great coincidence in a huge parking lot that they walk right past us... and Mick makes a few jokes... about Michael being awake long enough to finish his beer and so on. We go back and forth at Michael's expense, and throw in a few barbs about Greg Allman and say good-bye until later.

Now, to steal a line from Ron White, I tell you that story, to tell you this one... As I say, Deadheads are much more forgiving than other fans.  

Several years ago, I'll guess '93 or '94 (I could Google it now that I'm home, but I don't feel like it) we went to see the great and wonderful Eric Clapton. The show was in the never wonderful Long Island.  Getting there from New Jersey is horrible.  We got there, it was a Friday night so OF COURSE there was traffic.  Michael had been up since 5:30 am, worked all day, and, okay, let's put it out there, has never been a huge fan of the the Mighty Slowhand.  So at a certain point in the show, he dozed. I was up and dancing, and a few guys were yelling.  I suddenly realized that they were yelling at us.  Actually they were yelling at Michael.  

"Wake the fuck up! You can't sleep during Eric Clapton!" 

"How can you sleep? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

And other things as well.  Worse things that I won't type.

Then they started throwing things at him. 

Luckily he slept through all of this and has no memory of it at all. 

Well of course he does now because I've told the story about twenty times.

So, okay. He falls asleep during concerts sometimes.  If I feel like he's missing something crucial I wake him up. It doesn't bother him and it doesn't bother me.  And if it bothers those "Clapton is God" guys... well... they need to wake the fuck up.

Chapter 7: How to Pack for a Four Day Festival 

You need to know this about me.  I'm the one who needs a suitcase just for my shoes. I'm a low maintenance kind of person, but I like to have a lot of stuff to play with.  I have my hobbies, I like my music, and I enjoy eating and drinking.  So when I don't have to get on a plane, and there are no passengers in the back seat, I tend to fill the car up until there's no more room.  So, you might want to take these packing tips with a grain of salt.  Actually, I brought salt and pepper, of course, to season the food.  I also brought Krazy Salt, a 50's throwback seasoning that helps a hardboiled egg become delicious. 

Funny that I have not uploaded any concert pix yet, but I manage a photo of Krazy Salt.

So, here you have the step by step instructions for packing for a festival, for grown-ups:

1. Do all the laundry in the entire house.
2. Call Text a young person who has actually been to a festival. Ask for some tips.  Edit that list so it's appropriate for someone your age.  Add it to your list.

(My list had a baby list, which went on to have twins. I needed a small suitcase just for my list.)

1. Take the day off from work to start getting ready.  
2. Deal with your kids/pets. (If you are bringing your kids/pets to the show, please see my next entry about concert etiquette.)
3. Clean up your entire house, or do the best you can and prioritize.  For me, it was kitchen, cat boxes, bedrooms, bathrooms.  NEVER leave the washing machine or dishwasher running when you're gone, by the way.
4. Now you can (and really should) start packing!
5. Sunscreen, bug repellent, flashlights, citronella candles, beach chairs, lawn chairs, coolers, ice packs, ice, beach blanket, beach towels, hats, sunglasses, raincoats, umbrellas, shoes that can get wet, shoes for walking, sandals, extra sandals just in case, long pants, shorts, t shirts, sweatshirts, toiletries, medication, jewelry, i-stuff (pod, pad, phone and cords), laptop if necessary, little bluetooth speaker, corkscrew and bottle opener, books and magazines.
6. Food and drink... this is your choice of course.  I hardboiled eggs (as noted above) and brought bread, cold cuts, mustard, tomatoes, hummus, babaganoush, 4 different kinds of pretzels, including the stale kind, pita chips, 2 different cheeses, yogurts, and cottage cheese. I had bananas and peaches which got kind of mushy, but we ate some of them.  We had beer and tequila, and our friends had wine and vodka.  I packed 2 knives, a cutting board, napkins, forks, spoons and plastic knives.  I did forget plates.  We managed to get all of this in my little red Prius, and I was still able to see out the back. 
7. Things I brought that you might not bring: My bead box, so I could play and create. My laptop to upload photos and to write.  My husband also brought his laptop because he had to do some work on Friday and he wakes up much earlier than I do. (See chapter 6!) We had a lot of limes to go with the tequila.  You may not need to bring limes. That could save you some room.  It also turned out we did not need four chairs, but we had no way of knowing that.  

So, how would YOU pack for a 4-day festival?  Did we NEED all that stuff?  Well, now let's not confuse want with need, okay?  We did not need the flashlights, bug repellent, or citronella candles, but I think it was a good call to bring them. 

And it could be argued that one pair of sandals might have sufficed. After all, Bob Weir wore the exact same outfit all three days he performed.

Continued in the next blog entry... with photos and picasa link ...