As noted by my friend, and fellow writer, Sarah, everyone loves a list. So I am stealing her idea and writing down 7 things about me.
1. I can twirl my eyeballs around really, really fast. It's been described as sickening and nauseating and just plain weird by most who have seen it. I have never actually seen it, although I guess Randi could record me doing it, and play it back to me.
2. I had NO idea at all what I wanted to do with my life, or even liked to do until Mrs. Summers's class in seventh grade, where I learned that I liked writing stories. Then I really got turned around by the writers Harlan Ellison (for his first person essays) and Hunter S. Thompson (for his wild, wicked sense of humor and craziness). Then I was like, yeah, I could kind of be like a mixture of THOSE guys.
3. I am the co-guardian of my older sister, Barbara, who has Down's Syndrome.
4. I say I never owned a dog, but this is not true. During middle school we got an older female Golden Retriever mix from the shelter. I named her Tory and she smelled awful, but was very friendly and sweet. Unfortunately she was sick and we had to take her back to the shelter, and she died not much later.
5. My earliest memory is of waking up on the floor in my bedroom, in our old house in O'Shaughnessy Lane in Closter, NJ. Then I wandered into my sister's room and, this is the memory though it may not be reliable, we argued and she hit me in the stomach. Sharon is not a violent person!
6. This is pretty well known, but it's still cool. In 1996 I was a driver in Bill Clinton's motorcade when he came to Denver. My car was a copper Ford Taurus, and my Secret Service name was Straggler Two. (Straggler One was, of course, right in front of me.) I was the very last car in the motorcade. Little known fact, there are two motorcades. The first five cars or so, actually have dignitaries in them. Then there is a gap and there are all the other cars, who have press or whomever. I had no one, both days! I shook hands briefly with the POTUS and got my picture taken with him. They never sent me the picture though.
7. As a freshman in high school I was an indifferent athlete, but somehow during winter track I managed to be in part of a four man relay team that actually won the blue ribbon for first place at a track meet. I think my time was a touch over 64 seconds for my quarter mile. Not bad! To this day I have no idea how I did it, as I hadn't trained all that well, and my prior time was something like 80 seconds.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Thoughts On A Wednesday Morning In September
Stella is still asleep, and will be for probably the next half hour or so. Randi is awake and getting ready for work. I am here, of course. It is 6:40 a.m. If you had told me back in high school that I would ever be able to get up this early I would have laughed in your face, if I wasn't already asleep that is. I was always up late, reading, I guess. And I found it extremely difficult to get up before 10:00 a.m. I always attribute that to laziness, but I think that there is a biological reason for it as well. I had read somewhere that teenagers' brains are wired to sleep in late. I am not sure what the genetic advantage could be of this. Maybe it was so the rest of the tribe could have some peace and quiet back in the stone age and this kept them from literally murdering the teens in their midst. I am certain that if I did some research into this I could find out more, but I don't feel like it right now.
************************************************************************
Trying to slowly gather some momentum in the Louisville area, mainly with writing. I am working on a freelance piece right now, although I won't discuss it for superstitious reasons. I am also working to meet with other editors and the like. Beyond that I have a meeting within the next two week at a local university to get oriented for their grad programs for education. I have had a hard time figuring out exactly what I want to do, should I move in this direction.
Classroom teaching seems like it would be very satisfying in many ways, but also a total frenzied, burnout-producing grind. I love kids, and love to instruct, but I think I would have a hard time trying to keep a room of uninterested high school or middle-schoolers engaged and interested. The thought of having to be a disciplinarian for so many kids seems wholly uninviting to me. Look at this, I am already assuming they would not like my class.
I have thought about guidance counseloring, which I do realize is not a verb. It would offer the opportunity to help a kid one on one, which could be very rewarding. And I would get an office, and wouldn't have to be "on" the entire time in front of a class. I would get to help kids find what they want to do with their lives, which I think I would enjoy. But it might not be as directly rewarding as teaching.
I guess I can't know, as I really haven't done either job.
One of my favorite parts of my past few editing jobs was my ability to work with other folks and help them get better at what they did. Mentoring, I guess, although I hate that word, as it's become such a trite, lame cliche. I thought of it as simply helping them, not being their mentor, so to speak. But it seems the young adults I worked with closely have thrived and continue to do well. Some of them even learned a few things from me, I believe. Of course their success is the result of their own hard work and brains, but I like to think I helped them learn a few things for the limited time they spent with me.
That I liked. I liked working with smart people, and helping to make them smarter, on a one to one basis.
I have been told that I would make a good college instructor, but I don't know where I would begin to get such a job, or what the job would even be. Writing instructor, I guess? Journalism professor? I am not sure what the qualifications needed for such a job would be, or even, for sure, what the job is. I guess there are always ways to find out, such as reaching out to people who already do this job and talking to them. Usually people are pretty good about spending 10 minutes, or so, with folks who have a genuine interest in learning more about what they do for a career. So, maybe I should do that!
In other news, I am still getting used to Louisville. I don't feel like I really know the heart of the city just yet. In NYC you could tell, from the moment you came in, that this town has a strong identity, one impossible to ignore, in fact. It is THE CITY. We even called it The City growing up in NJ. There are a million different scenes in this world, some easier to learn about, some took more time, but they were all there.
But I don't have that feeling about Louisville. There doesn't seem to be a real city vibe here, or at least one I've seen yet. It's a cityburb, or at least that's what I've started to think of it as. It's not quite what I consider a city, yet it is not really a suburb either, it's kind of both at the same time. There doesn't seem to be a real logic to the layout, either. Everywhere I go there are just these cool little spots, and out of the way stores, and the like. It is definitely funky.
One cool thing: barbecue smokers. This is something I never saw in NYC. As I drive around town I see, again and again, that many businesses have barbecue smokers parked in their parking lots, actively smoking up meat every day. I have seen this in at least a half a dozen places. It just seems so southern to me. And I'm not really even a big BBQ guy, but this is just cool. Of course you vegetarians out there will not agree.
One thing I miss is the feeling of a large, humming downtown. In NYC I could take or leave Midtown (though I liked Times Square, most hate it). But I always loved downtown, and could spend hours walking around there, looking at the shops. Brooklyn too had whole neighborhoods chockablock with dense, urban things going on. Concerts, stores, boutiques, guitar shops, next to delis. You know, urban living.
Downtown here is very, very mellow. You can get a parking spot right in the middle of town during the work day for god's sake! On Sundays the place is practically deserted.
Not that this is bad, but it's an adjustment. I do realize NYC was not, and is not all that perfect. But I miss walking through dense, urban areas. It's the only place Spider-Man could ever have been a superhero, know what I mean?
*********************************************************************
I am reading "The Snowball" a biography of Warren Buffett. He tries so hard to come across as a folksy, lovable guy who just happened to get lucky. But he is a complete and total genius, with an ungodly ability to analyze stocks and invest. Right now in the book he is 25 years old, and will sit all day, every day, analyzing stocks and companies, and really breaking down what they do. At this point he had been doing this for at least 10 years, all day, every day. It's astonishing. If you met him when he was 15 you would have remembered him; he would have been the smartest, most socially awkward 15 year old who ever shook your hand. He was always, always obsessed with numbers, probabilities and took an active interest in calculating longevity. He had a near photographic memory, and later on knew his finance textbooks better than the people who wrote them. In short, he was born a numerical genius, with an almost unheard of amount of brain power, but had to learn how to interact socially to charm people and succeed. But his brain was akin to a cannon, where most people have a pea shooter, and the smart among us have a handgun. The dude was and is gifted, but not in the usual ways. To his advantage. Replicating such genius, of course, is all but impossible.
But I am also inspired. I know I will never, and can never, be a math genius like him, but his ideas can be applied to other folks. The book is called The Snowball because that's the central metaphor for how he sees life: you start small with a good idea, or money, or an area of expertise and just keep adding to it until it compounds. That I can relate to.
And I do know something about investing, as I wrote about it for years. I am not going to be a genius stock investor like him, no one is, but I can apply myself to examine what would be better for me, and us, than keeping the money in the bank, doing nothing. I have some ideas and look forward to putting them into play.
Mainly I am inspired by Buffett's ability to plan and think long term. I am often reactive, not proactive. Things either happen to me, or they don't. But it doesn't have to be that way. One way we, as humans, can shape our world, is to make plans. Map things out. Set reachable deadlines, use the skills we have to achieve things that will improve our quality of life.
Money is important. I never wanted to really admit that before, it made me uncomfortable, but it's a self-defeating attitude to believe otherwise. It should not be why you do what you do, or else you will be not fully engaged in your own life. But it is important, and there are ways where you can plan and likely find ways to get more of it. And why not have more if you can have more?
So far that's my take away. Planning is okay. In fact it's a good idea. Set deadlines, goals and learn to think beyond today, or even this week. It's not illegal, you know?
Anyway, that's it for now. My hands are starting to cramp, which sucks. Maybe I need a new keyboard.
************************************************************************
Trying to slowly gather some momentum in the Louisville area, mainly with writing. I am working on a freelance piece right now, although I won't discuss it for superstitious reasons. I am also working to meet with other editors and the like. Beyond that I have a meeting within the next two week at a local university to get oriented for their grad programs for education. I have had a hard time figuring out exactly what I want to do, should I move in this direction.
Classroom teaching seems like it would be very satisfying in many ways, but also a total frenzied, burnout-producing grind. I love kids, and love to instruct, but I think I would have a hard time trying to keep a room of uninterested high school or middle-schoolers engaged and interested. The thought of having to be a disciplinarian for so many kids seems wholly uninviting to me. Look at this, I am already assuming they would not like my class.
I have thought about guidance counseloring, which I do realize is not a verb. It would offer the opportunity to help a kid one on one, which could be very rewarding. And I would get an office, and wouldn't have to be "on" the entire time in front of a class. I would get to help kids find what they want to do with their lives, which I think I would enjoy. But it might not be as directly rewarding as teaching.
I guess I can't know, as I really haven't done either job.
One of my favorite parts of my past few editing jobs was my ability to work with other folks and help them get better at what they did. Mentoring, I guess, although I hate that word, as it's become such a trite, lame cliche. I thought of it as simply helping them, not being their mentor, so to speak. But it seems the young adults I worked with closely have thrived and continue to do well. Some of them even learned a few things from me, I believe. Of course their success is the result of their own hard work and brains, but I like to think I helped them learn a few things for the limited time they spent with me.
That I liked. I liked working with smart people, and helping to make them smarter, on a one to one basis.
I have been told that I would make a good college instructor, but I don't know where I would begin to get such a job, or what the job would even be. Writing instructor, I guess? Journalism professor? I am not sure what the qualifications needed for such a job would be, or even, for sure, what the job is. I guess there are always ways to find out, such as reaching out to people who already do this job and talking to them. Usually people are pretty good about spending 10 minutes, or so, with folks who have a genuine interest in learning more about what they do for a career. So, maybe I should do that!
In other news, I am still getting used to Louisville. I don't feel like I really know the heart of the city just yet. In NYC you could tell, from the moment you came in, that this town has a strong identity, one impossible to ignore, in fact. It is THE CITY. We even called it The City growing up in NJ. There are a million different scenes in this world, some easier to learn about, some took more time, but they were all there.
But I don't have that feeling about Louisville. There doesn't seem to be a real city vibe here, or at least one I've seen yet. It's a cityburb, or at least that's what I've started to think of it as. It's not quite what I consider a city, yet it is not really a suburb either, it's kind of both at the same time. There doesn't seem to be a real logic to the layout, either. Everywhere I go there are just these cool little spots, and out of the way stores, and the like. It is definitely funky.
One cool thing: barbecue smokers. This is something I never saw in NYC. As I drive around town I see, again and again, that many businesses have barbecue smokers parked in their parking lots, actively smoking up meat every day. I have seen this in at least a half a dozen places. It just seems so southern to me. And I'm not really even a big BBQ guy, but this is just cool. Of course you vegetarians out there will not agree.
One thing I miss is the feeling of a large, humming downtown. In NYC I could take or leave Midtown (though I liked Times Square, most hate it). But I always loved downtown, and could spend hours walking around there, looking at the shops. Brooklyn too had whole neighborhoods chockablock with dense, urban things going on. Concerts, stores, boutiques, guitar shops, next to delis. You know, urban living.
Downtown here is very, very mellow. You can get a parking spot right in the middle of town during the work day for god's sake! On Sundays the place is practically deserted.
Not that this is bad, but it's an adjustment. I do realize NYC was not, and is not all that perfect. But I miss walking through dense, urban areas. It's the only place Spider-Man could ever have been a superhero, know what I mean?
*********************************************************************
I am reading "The Snowball" a biography of Warren Buffett. He tries so hard to come across as a folksy, lovable guy who just happened to get lucky. But he is a complete and total genius, with an ungodly ability to analyze stocks and invest. Right now in the book he is 25 years old, and will sit all day, every day, analyzing stocks and companies, and really breaking down what they do. At this point he had been doing this for at least 10 years, all day, every day. It's astonishing. If you met him when he was 15 you would have remembered him; he would have been the smartest, most socially awkward 15 year old who ever shook your hand. He was always, always obsessed with numbers, probabilities and took an active interest in calculating longevity. He had a near photographic memory, and later on knew his finance textbooks better than the people who wrote them. In short, he was born a numerical genius, with an almost unheard of amount of brain power, but had to learn how to interact socially to charm people and succeed. But his brain was akin to a cannon, where most people have a pea shooter, and the smart among us have a handgun. The dude was and is gifted, but not in the usual ways. To his advantage. Replicating such genius, of course, is all but impossible.
But I am also inspired. I know I will never, and can never, be a math genius like him, but his ideas can be applied to other folks. The book is called The Snowball because that's the central metaphor for how he sees life: you start small with a good idea, or money, or an area of expertise and just keep adding to it until it compounds. That I can relate to.
And I do know something about investing, as I wrote about it for years. I am not going to be a genius stock investor like him, no one is, but I can apply myself to examine what would be better for me, and us, than keeping the money in the bank, doing nothing. I have some ideas and look forward to putting them into play.
Mainly I am inspired by Buffett's ability to plan and think long term. I am often reactive, not proactive. Things either happen to me, or they don't. But it doesn't have to be that way. One way we, as humans, can shape our world, is to make plans. Map things out. Set reachable deadlines, use the skills we have to achieve things that will improve our quality of life.
Money is important. I never wanted to really admit that before, it made me uncomfortable, but it's a self-defeating attitude to believe otherwise. It should not be why you do what you do, or else you will be not fully engaged in your own life. But it is important, and there are ways where you can plan and likely find ways to get more of it. And why not have more if you can have more?
So far that's my take away. Planning is okay. In fact it's a good idea. Set deadlines, goals and learn to think beyond today, or even this week. It's not illegal, you know?
Anyway, that's it for now. My hands are starting to cramp, which sucks. Maybe I need a new keyboard.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Toy Chest Child Bed
Randi woke up late today, my fault. I had reset her alarm to remind me to do an interview yesterday. Now she is rushing. Yay me. :-(
*************************************************************************************
So a little progress report on the Brooklyn Baby Baby. (Which no longer applies. Now I have to find her another nickname.)
We went to the doctor's office two days ago. She is 30 and a half pounds, and I am not exactly sure about her height. But she is just about average as far as that stuff goes. The doctor was impressed by how affectionate and vocal she is.
She sings all the time, and makes up songs too. Her newest one is called "Ballerina Cat," which is just as lovely as the image it conjures. She also made up one called "Baby In The Water," which goes something like this. "Baby in the water, baby in the water, baby in the water, octopus." Sometimes she substitutes "baby octopus" for octopus. I should video tape this stuff, because it's so precious. There I go again, it's not video taping old man, it's recording.
A relatively recent passion is her stuffed animals and toys. As in having virtually all of them on her bed at all times. (She moved from a crib to a toddler bed when we moved to Kentucky about two months ago, she loves it.) Right now she is asleep, it's morning, and she has at the head of her bed probably 15-20 stuffed animals, a stuffed pie toy and, a book and yes, a tea set. She refuses to go to bed if all these things are not right where they should be, i.e. taking up 40% of the available space on her already not too big bed.
Last night before bath time she and Randi had a tea party. She took all her toys off the bed and put them down on the carpet in her room so that they too could get some tea. Then she completely ignored Randi and spoke almost entirely just to the animals. Of course the moment Randi left the room she cried and cried until she came back. Even if mom is only watching she still needs to be there for the party, I guess.
I should take a picture of this phenomenon and put it on this blog. I have been bad about posting pics recently. I know that for some of you this is a vital and important part of the blog "experience."
Stella has a very good vocabulary and can say words like "stupendous," and talks nonstop virtually all day.
She loves her preschool, Adath Jeshurun. (You know, the Jewish preschool that is 25% Jewish.) When I drop her off in the morning she walks with me, hand in hand, through the halls of the school until we get to her class room. Then she abandons me, immediately starts to play, and has to be reminded to say goodbye and give me a hug goodbye. She even did this the first day, except on that day the hallways were simply filled with screaming children. Not Stella, she looked totally at ease, and ready to go.
When I pick her up, though, she typically runs over to me. By the time we get in the car, though, she typically wants something that I had forgotten to bring. Either a book left at home or something like that.
We have discovered some nice local playgrounds. Louisville has a really, really great parks system. The majority of the marquee parks were designed by the Olmstead and Law firm, who also designed Central Park in Manhattan and my beloved Prospect Park in Brooklyn. The neat thing about these parks is that the major ones are all linked, they even have a bicycle race that traverses all of them.
We are still getting to know some local parents. I miss the playgroup support we had back in NYC, but I am hopeful that we will have some nice playgroups in the fall.
As for me, I am gradually getting into the swing, I hope. I have founded a rock band, again, I hope! We have two guitarists, a bassist and a drummer. I found the members via Craigslist, and wrote a fairly long and heartfelt ad about the kind of bad I wanted to start. I listed bands I liked (Beatles, of course, 'Stones, Velvet Underground, Ween, REM, The Dead), and said what I do and would like to do. I wanted to play mostly originals with some tasteful covers thrown in. But I wanted it to be an originals band.
I do realize this is an uphill climb. People want to hear what they already like. But I wanted the chance to see if some of the songs I wrote hold up.
Well, here's what happened. I had one drummer fire us before he ever even played with us. He wanted to play covers. A second guy showed up in a Skynryd T-shirt, played some songs with us, and then quit without another word. (Both of these guys were recovering alcohol or drug abusers. I think I met the only sober drummers in North America. Just kidding drummers!) Another bassist played with us a couple of times, and was good, but quit because he wanted to develop more time to his Stevie Ray Vaughan-ish power trio, and a keyboardist couldn't keep up with it because he wanted to devote more time to his other projects.
All this I understood and expected. I recruited based on a few criterion. Did they like the songs? (Most important one.) Would they be easy to deal with and work with? Do I like them as people? Do they understand that I am a married guy and dad? (Meaning I can commit for what I can commit to, but not hang out all night and party.)
I am happy to say, touch wood, that so far the four guys we have match the criterion above. The other guitarist, Scott, writes and sings, which I love. I also write and sing but I definitely have a soft spot for just being the guitarist in the band. Stepping out of the spotlight and just playing. I loved this role in my former band, Connecticut, but grew frustrated over time because I couldn't bring any of my songs to the band, it was not allowed. Eventually, not surprisingly, this helped contribute to the breakup of the band.
This is a shame, because had I been able to contribute we could have made a lethal combination. Now the remainders of that band are still playing some of the same dives we played, more or less, eight years ago.
The bands I always wanted to be in as a kid typically functioned as collectives of some sort. The Beatles, everyone sang, three of the four guys wrote. The Dead were a collective in many literal ways, with multiple singers and writers. Squeeze was based on a partnership of two guys, REM and U2 are total partnerships in all ways. This always appealed to me, I have never been too comfortable with it being The Dave Show. (Maybe this is why I gravitated to improv comedy in NYC, not standup.)
Of course I also love solo performers like Bruce, but the guys in his band seem to accept that his band is a benevolent dictatorship, and they don't seem to mind. But Bruce is also a genius and perhaps the world's greatest performer so I guess it's cool. Nirvana was also the intellectual work of one guy, as a songwriter, although the band's sounds was indelible and as important as his writing.
Anyway, I don't want to jinx us too much here, so I will drop it for now.
Fall has fallen, summer is over. Shed a tear for its memory and move into the new.
*************************************************************************************
So a little progress report on the Brooklyn Baby Baby. (Which no longer applies. Now I have to find her another nickname.)
We went to the doctor's office two days ago. She is 30 and a half pounds, and I am not exactly sure about her height. But she is just about average as far as that stuff goes. The doctor was impressed by how affectionate and vocal she is.
She sings all the time, and makes up songs too. Her newest one is called "Ballerina Cat," which is just as lovely as the image it conjures. She also made up one called "Baby In The Water," which goes something like this. "Baby in the water, baby in the water, baby in the water, octopus." Sometimes she substitutes "baby octopus" for octopus. I should video tape this stuff, because it's so precious. There I go again, it's not video taping old man, it's recording.
A relatively recent passion is her stuffed animals and toys. As in having virtually all of them on her bed at all times. (She moved from a crib to a toddler bed when we moved to Kentucky about two months ago, she loves it.) Right now she is asleep, it's morning, and she has at the head of her bed probably 15-20 stuffed animals, a stuffed pie toy and, a book and yes, a tea set. She refuses to go to bed if all these things are not right where they should be, i.e. taking up 40% of the available space on her already not too big bed.
Last night before bath time she and Randi had a tea party. She took all her toys off the bed and put them down on the carpet in her room so that they too could get some tea. Then she completely ignored Randi and spoke almost entirely just to the animals. Of course the moment Randi left the room she cried and cried until she came back. Even if mom is only watching she still needs to be there for the party, I guess.
I should take a picture of this phenomenon and put it on this blog. I have been bad about posting pics recently. I know that for some of you this is a vital and important part of the blog "experience."
Stella has a very good vocabulary and can say words like "stupendous," and talks nonstop virtually all day.
She loves her preschool, Adath Jeshurun. (You know, the Jewish preschool that is 25% Jewish.) When I drop her off in the morning she walks with me, hand in hand, through the halls of the school until we get to her class room. Then she abandons me, immediately starts to play, and has to be reminded to say goodbye and give me a hug goodbye. She even did this the first day, except on that day the hallways were simply filled with screaming children. Not Stella, she looked totally at ease, and ready to go.
When I pick her up, though, she typically runs over to me. By the time we get in the car, though, she typically wants something that I had forgotten to bring. Either a book left at home or something like that.
We have discovered some nice local playgrounds. Louisville has a really, really great parks system. The majority of the marquee parks were designed by the Olmstead and Law firm, who also designed Central Park in Manhattan and my beloved Prospect Park in Brooklyn. The neat thing about these parks is that the major ones are all linked, they even have a bicycle race that traverses all of them.
We are still getting to know some local parents. I miss the playgroup support we had back in NYC, but I am hopeful that we will have some nice playgroups in the fall.
As for me, I am gradually getting into the swing, I hope. I have founded a rock band, again, I hope! We have two guitarists, a bassist and a drummer. I found the members via Craigslist, and wrote a fairly long and heartfelt ad about the kind of bad I wanted to start. I listed bands I liked (Beatles, of course, 'Stones, Velvet Underground, Ween, REM, The Dead), and said what I do and would like to do. I wanted to play mostly originals with some tasteful covers thrown in. But I wanted it to be an originals band.
I do realize this is an uphill climb. People want to hear what they already like. But I wanted the chance to see if some of the songs I wrote hold up.
Well, here's what happened. I had one drummer fire us before he ever even played with us. He wanted to play covers. A second guy showed up in a Skynryd T-shirt, played some songs with us, and then quit without another word. (Both of these guys were recovering alcohol or drug abusers. I think I met the only sober drummers in North America. Just kidding drummers!) Another bassist played with us a couple of times, and was good, but quit because he wanted to develop more time to his Stevie Ray Vaughan-ish power trio, and a keyboardist couldn't keep up with it because he wanted to devote more time to his other projects.
All this I understood and expected. I recruited based on a few criterion. Did they like the songs? (Most important one.) Would they be easy to deal with and work with? Do I like them as people? Do they understand that I am a married guy and dad? (Meaning I can commit for what I can commit to, but not hang out all night and party.)
I am happy to say, touch wood, that so far the four guys we have match the criterion above. The other guitarist, Scott, writes and sings, which I love. I also write and sing but I definitely have a soft spot for just being the guitarist in the band. Stepping out of the spotlight and just playing. I loved this role in my former band, Connecticut, but grew frustrated over time because I couldn't bring any of my songs to the band, it was not allowed. Eventually, not surprisingly, this helped contribute to the breakup of the band.
This is a shame, because had I been able to contribute we could have made a lethal combination. Now the remainders of that band are still playing some of the same dives we played, more or less, eight years ago.
The bands I always wanted to be in as a kid typically functioned as collectives of some sort. The Beatles, everyone sang, three of the four guys wrote. The Dead were a collective in many literal ways, with multiple singers and writers. Squeeze was based on a partnership of two guys, REM and U2 are total partnerships in all ways. This always appealed to me, I have never been too comfortable with it being The Dave Show. (Maybe this is why I gravitated to improv comedy in NYC, not standup.)
Of course I also love solo performers like Bruce, but the guys in his band seem to accept that his band is a benevolent dictatorship, and they don't seem to mind. But Bruce is also a genius and perhaps the world's greatest performer so I guess it's cool. Nirvana was also the intellectual work of one guy, as a songwriter, although the band's sounds was indelible and as important as his writing.
Anyway, I don't want to jinx us too much here, so I will drop it for now.
Fall has fallen, summer is over. Shed a tear for its memory and move into the new.
Monday, September 20, 2010
My High School Reunion
This is lifted from my journal from September 12, meaning that my reunion was, yes, on September 11. It was held at the Old '76 House, in Tappan, N.Y., which is fairly close to where I grew up in Bergen County, N.J. In fact we went to the '76 House a few times when I was a child. It dates back to the Colonial Era, and once was used as a jail to hold a co-conspirator of Benedict Arnold's!
***********************************************************************************
I had an absolutely awesome time as my 20th High School Reunion. Everyone was friendly, there were good vibes all around, all day.
When I first came into the parking lot of the '76 House I saw my old friends and colleagues from the student newspaper in school, Amie Ravitz and Elana Haviv, who were parking. I wasn't sure whether I should go up to Amie, as we hadn't spoken in more than a little while. (Elana and I had kept touch over the ensuing years.) But Amie was thoroughly warm and welcoming. It felt good to have people who were happy to see me.
That was the pattern. Everyone was open, surprisingly happy to see one another. I think even we were surprised by how nice it was to simply be in one another's presence once more. I was in high spirits all night. I had been worried that people would look down on me because I am still unemployed and not all the way there yet, but no one cared. Nor did I look down on them if they were not where they thought they wanted to be.
I was happy to see old, old friends, who were almost uniformly sweet and easy to speak to. We laughed at each others jokes, reminisced about things long forgotten or suppressed in some cases. There were people there who were thriving that I had been quite worried about twenty years ago. There were people who had turned their lives and attitudes around. There were people there I had long conversations with that I had almost never actually spoken to at school. There were no cliques, there was no posturing, none of that stuff. It was like the open, happy, carefree party that we rarely actually had at my school.
(What can I say, the 1990 class at Northern Valley Regional High Demarest lacked a certain school spirit. I mentioned this to Jessica Patton, who organized the entire reunion. She said, something back that I loved: "I was a cheerleader and I didn't have any school spirit.")
I spoke with almost everyone, laughed a lot, make people laugh, enjoyed everyone's company. High school is so strange. You have nothing in common, on the face of it, with many of these folks, and yet you DO have something in common. Something very key, four of the most crucial years of your life.
Everyone should go to their high school reunion if they can. It makes you realize that people love you and miss you, even if they didn't know it. Even if you didn't know it. Milestones are real and important. As are roots. We should honor them and use them to stay both grounded and reminded of the good people we were and the good people we may yet want to become. And even if we don't, people will still like us and be happy to see us for who we are today.
***********************************************************************************
I had an absolutely awesome time as my 20th High School Reunion. Everyone was friendly, there were good vibes all around, all day.
When I first came into the parking lot of the '76 House I saw my old friends and colleagues from the student newspaper in school, Amie Ravitz and Elana Haviv, who were parking. I wasn't sure whether I should go up to Amie, as we hadn't spoken in more than a little while. (Elana and I had kept touch over the ensuing years.) But Amie was thoroughly warm and welcoming. It felt good to have people who were happy to see me.
That was the pattern. Everyone was open, surprisingly happy to see one another. I think even we were surprised by how nice it was to simply be in one another's presence once more. I was in high spirits all night. I had been worried that people would look down on me because I am still unemployed and not all the way there yet, but no one cared. Nor did I look down on them if they were not where they thought they wanted to be.
I was happy to see old, old friends, who were almost uniformly sweet and easy to speak to. We laughed at each others jokes, reminisced about things long forgotten or suppressed in some cases. There were people there who were thriving that I had been quite worried about twenty years ago. There were people who had turned their lives and attitudes around. There were people there I had long conversations with that I had almost never actually spoken to at school. There were no cliques, there was no posturing, none of that stuff. It was like the open, happy, carefree party that we rarely actually had at my school.
(What can I say, the 1990 class at Northern Valley Regional High Demarest lacked a certain school spirit. I mentioned this to Jessica Patton, who organized the entire reunion. She said, something back that I loved: "I was a cheerleader and I didn't have any school spirit.")
I spoke with almost everyone, laughed a lot, make people laugh, enjoyed everyone's company. High school is so strange. You have nothing in common, on the face of it, with many of these folks, and yet you DO have something in common. Something very key, four of the most crucial years of your life.
Everyone should go to their high school reunion if they can. It makes you realize that people love you and miss you, even if they didn't know it. Even if you didn't know it. Milestones are real and important. As are roots. We should honor them and use them to stay both grounded and reminded of the good people we were and the good people we may yet want to become. And even if we don't, people will still like us and be happy to see us for who we are today.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sunday Morning Coming Down
Everyone is sleeping, except me, and the cats. Cromwell is being very affectionate right now, which means he's hungry.
Have a lot to catch up on. Fasted yesterday, which is always interesting and strange. Honestly, it is not that hard, for the most part. I remember the first time I fasted. It was August, I was 11 years old and in Camp Ceder Lake, a New Jersey Young Men's Hebrew Association camp. They told us there was some fairly obscure Jewish holiday on the horizon and if we wished to fast we could. I had never done it before, so I thought it would be a novel challenge. Also, and to my shame, more importantly, it would get me out of activities that day, and I could just kind of laze around. This really attracted me. Camp was so busy, I felt that at 11 years old I needed a break!
So I fasted, and don't really remember anything about it, other than, yes, I did make the entire 24 hours and breaking the fast was really cool. Me and the other campers and staffers who fasted went down to the dining hall at Camp Nah-Je-Wah (which I am sure I just misspelled) and after some prayers were set we dug into a kosher dairy style meal. Tuna salad, bagels and the like. It was celebratory and festive and I felt proud that I accomplished my goal.
Yesterday, though, was a little different. I didn't fast to get out of anything, I did it because I felt like it would be, by now, very strange not to. I have been fasting on Yom Kippur since I was 12 or 13. (Although one year I caved and bought a Whopper Junior. That was the last time I did that, though. I think I was 14.)
First, in the morning we fed Stella -- she doesn't fast, of course -- and then went to temple. We went to a temple near us called Adath Jeshurun, which is also where Stella goes to pre-school. (It's a Jewish pre-school, but even so it's student population is only 25% Jewish. I believe I already talked about this in a prior entry. Still, a lovely place.) Or shall I say Stella goes to the pre-school affiliated with the temple. I did the same as a child, and went to Temple Beth-El nursery school in Closter, NJ, where I grew up. My family were members of the temple as well.
During Rosh Hashonah you are supposed to be somewhat uncomfortable. So in addition to fasting, as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, you also don't shower, don't shave, don't drink water, don't brush your teeth (a yuck in my book, but this year I stuck to it), and you don't wear leather. So you have the sight of a fairly well dressed guy, me, in a nice enough suit (from Target) walking around in my imitation leather sandals, with no belt, and my watch in my pocket rather than my wrist. Very strange, I guess. Felt kind of odd, although the sandals were comfortable.
At temple I had the same debate I always have, to talis or not to talis. The talis is that long fringed scarf, for lack of a better word, you see Jewish men (or mostly men anyway) wearing around. I generally feel like a poseur when I wear one, since I am not all that observant (despite my past few blog entries here), barely can read Hebrew and generally do not live a life that I would consider all that "Jewish" as far as actual, formal religious activity. In fact I believe I have worn my talis all of three times since my Bar Mitzvah in 1985.
Nonetheless, I still own one, and it has a nice blue velvet bag.
This year, after we had put Stella in the temple's day care, we went upstairs and sat down in our assigned seats. (We are not members of AJ, but they were nice enough to give us newcomers in town a pair of seats all the same.) After about ten minutes of services I felt the urge to put on a talis, so, not feeling all that strange about it after all, I took it out of my bag and put it on. I was far from alone, in fact most of the guys in the temple already had one on. I would have been conspicuous by not wearing one, I suppose, but that's not why I did it.
Why did I do it? My old Rabbi and friend, the late Josh Simon, used to say regarding religious stuff, "fake it till you make it." Meaning you may not feel authentic doing these various rituals and practices, but do them anyway, and eventually they will start to feel like they have become a part of you. In this way he encouraged me to wear a talis, for example, and Randi to try her hand at reading Hebrew.
So there was certainly an element of that in there. (Josh was a fascinating and amazing guy. He was probably about 45 and had been a journalist at Life Magazine. He played reggae-tinged rock music in the services, with him rocking out on a black Gibson SG electric guitar. He was a bit of a rabble rouser, a bit of an iconoclast. He once concluded a midrash--or exegesis--with this unforgettable thought. "What doe this all mean? I don't know, but I just think it's great!" Unfortunately Rabbi Josh passed away in early August 2005, right before he was to officiate our wedding. I could get more into it, but it would take a long, long time to write down how I felt about Josh. I loved the guy, you know?)
Another part of all this was that I wanted to put the talis on. I just did, it felt, for the first time, right. I can't explain it.
Maybe I am looking for things. I don't know, but I want to start living life less about me, me, me all the time and start reaching out to the world, in order to help it and help others more. I am a creative person and love to do creative stuff. I have spent large portions of my life around other creative types, and by nature we tend to be lovely, fun, fascinating people, but we also tend to be kind of self-centered. All those years I spent doing improv, which were wonderful, definitely gave me an insight into the minds of actors and comedians. They are great, they make wonderful friends, but there can be a certain focus on the self. I am sure this is not a surprise to most of you reading this, and many other folks have a similar issue.
But the self-centered life has not really made me happy. I never felt like I did enough for the world, never gave back enough. I would like to change that this year, and I am starting to think of various ways to do that. Becoming more involved with the local synagogue can potentially be one way. They have many programs to meet others and do various volunteer work. I am keenly interested now in learning more about these options.
We stayed in services until about 12:20 p.m. or so and then picked up Stella. She was in the playground with all the other little kids. The people watching the kids were sad to see her go. This little girl is quite loved by all who know her, I am convinced.
She ran over to us, with a little plastic cup in her hand that belonged to the temple. We tried to pry it from her hand, but then she started to scream and cry. She's almost 2 1/2 now and many, many things make her scream and cry. So we decided we would bring back the cup next time, if it was okay with the temple. Then Stella took our hands, and together we walked back to the car.
Oh, that's right, we have a new car, or at least one that is new to us. It's a Kia Rondo, a name that sounds like one of those late night commercials that sell you the pocket fisherman, or stuff like that. It's a crossover, which means it looks like an SUV, but really is a car at heart. This is for the good, as it drives and corners like a car, and gets pretty fair gas mileage--which was of critical importance to us--but is more roomy inside than a typical car with a similar wheelbase. I like it, and enjoy driving it around, but definitely was sad that we needed a second pair of wheels. More goods, more payments, more responsibility, more resources burned. All those things are true, but the fact is, you just can't have any sort of real life in Louisville without a car. It's fairly suburban in that light, and the public transportation system here has been rated as among the worst in the U.S.
So we pulled into the car. Stella's new thing is to say "It's hot!" whenever we get into the car, whether it's hot or not. But now we have an even newer thing, where I sagely shake my head and say "it's not hot." Then she nods too and repeats it. "It's not hot." Then I might put my hand on her face, and this will sound weird I know, and scream "brain eater!" She actually has grown to like this, believe it or not. In fact the other day she kept on repeating "bwain eata!" over and over, until I put my hand back on her face and did it again. In this way I am preparing Stella ... for what exactly? The upcoming zombie invasion? For life as the kid with a weird dad? I cannot know, but I am sure it will one day help Stella be a light unto all nations.
She ate lunch when we got home, we did not, and then she took a nap. But only after ensuring that about 25 stuffed animals--literally of all stripes--were on her bed. Right before naptime she panicked and screamed "mermaid!" She has a stuffed mermaid, you see. Then she jumped out of her bed like it was on fire and ran into the living room looking for it. In fact the mermaid was actually in her bed already, buried under other stuffed toys. Randi found it, and showed it to her. Stella, relieved, then climbed into her bed, and was ready for her nap. We turned on her white noise machine--a holdover from the days when she was the lightest sleeper in the world--turned out the light and closed the door.
She slept for about two hours, a good nap. During this time Randi napped and I read "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" which is a definite page turner, and one about a financial journalist to boot! (I knew we were a sexy profession full of intrigue!)
Once Stella awoke we got her some snacks and got out of the apartment. Among other things we went to the Crescent Hill library and bought some supplies for breaking the fast. Fasting really does take over the day, you know? Next year maybe we will go back to temple and put Stella back in the child care, I don't know.
Stella had dinner at 6:00 p.m. and we broke the fast at 6:30 p.m. It wasn't officially sunset at our apartment, but it had been 24 hours since we last ate, and, we reasoned, it was dark somewhere, you know? The food tasted delicious, as expected. We had bagels (bought at Panera because all the bagel stores here closed by 3:00 p.m.! In my hunger-induced state this pissed me off to no end, and made me angry that there wasn't one real New York bagel place in this town. I think I was being a bit overly critical, in retrospect), lox, some various salad type dishes bought at the super market, and challah. The challah was how I actually broke the fast, with some honey. It was great. Oh, and I also drank about a liter of ginger ale. Good times!
It's good to be a little hungry. One of the reasons we fast, I believe, is to be reminded that for some people the fast never ends. That hunger pain I feel once a year never ends for millions of people, including children, around the globe. In this way it makes me, I hope, more sensitive to the plight of those around the world who do not have the luxuries I truly do take for granted. In fact I think we should all fast at least once a year regardless of our religion, for 24 hours in a row. It might make the world a tinier bit more of a sympathetic place.
After the fast we gave Stella her bath and got her ready for bed. Her new thing is to scream "help!" whenever she is the slightest bit uncomfortable, like when we are putting on her pajamas. I promise, we are not torturing our daughter! So if you see us all out together and Stella is screaming for help, please realize that she might just be miffed at us for not buying her a third ice cream, not that we have punished her or anything like that. Just a reminder.
After Stella was put to bed we cleaned up a bit and watched Oliver Stone's movie "W." Stone has been accused of making up stuff in his films, and I wish he made this entire movie up, but, no George W. Bush really was our president and really did not understand what was going on in Iraq and really did rush us into a war when a little bit more time would probably have proven that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction. But now it's too late and history is what it is.
One prayer we say during services is for our leaders, to grant them wisdom. I always say it.
I know I promised to write about the high school reunion. Next time, I guess.
Have a lot to catch up on. Fasted yesterday, which is always interesting and strange. Honestly, it is not that hard, for the most part. I remember the first time I fasted. It was August, I was 11 years old and in Camp Ceder Lake, a New Jersey Young Men's Hebrew Association camp. They told us there was some fairly obscure Jewish holiday on the horizon and if we wished to fast we could. I had never done it before, so I thought it would be a novel challenge. Also, and to my shame, more importantly, it would get me out of activities that day, and I could just kind of laze around. This really attracted me. Camp was so busy, I felt that at 11 years old I needed a break!
So I fasted, and don't really remember anything about it, other than, yes, I did make the entire 24 hours and breaking the fast was really cool. Me and the other campers and staffers who fasted went down to the dining hall at Camp Nah-Je-Wah (which I am sure I just misspelled) and after some prayers were set we dug into a kosher dairy style meal. Tuna salad, bagels and the like. It was celebratory and festive and I felt proud that I accomplished my goal.
Yesterday, though, was a little different. I didn't fast to get out of anything, I did it because I felt like it would be, by now, very strange not to. I have been fasting on Yom Kippur since I was 12 or 13. (Although one year I caved and bought a Whopper Junior. That was the last time I did that, though. I think I was 14.)
First, in the morning we fed Stella -- she doesn't fast, of course -- and then went to temple. We went to a temple near us called Adath Jeshurun, which is also where Stella goes to pre-school. (It's a Jewish pre-school, but even so it's student population is only 25% Jewish. I believe I already talked about this in a prior entry. Still, a lovely place.) Or shall I say Stella goes to the pre-school affiliated with the temple. I did the same as a child, and went to Temple Beth-El nursery school in Closter, NJ, where I grew up. My family were members of the temple as well.
During Rosh Hashonah you are supposed to be somewhat uncomfortable. So in addition to fasting, as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, you also don't shower, don't shave, don't drink water, don't brush your teeth (a yuck in my book, but this year I stuck to it), and you don't wear leather. So you have the sight of a fairly well dressed guy, me, in a nice enough suit (from Target) walking around in my imitation leather sandals, with no belt, and my watch in my pocket rather than my wrist. Very strange, I guess. Felt kind of odd, although the sandals were comfortable.
At temple I had the same debate I always have, to talis or not to talis. The talis is that long fringed scarf, for lack of a better word, you see Jewish men (or mostly men anyway) wearing around. I generally feel like a poseur when I wear one, since I am not all that observant (despite my past few blog entries here), barely can read Hebrew and generally do not live a life that I would consider all that "Jewish" as far as actual, formal religious activity. In fact I believe I have worn my talis all of three times since my Bar Mitzvah in 1985.
Nonetheless, I still own one, and it has a nice blue velvet bag.
This year, after we had put Stella in the temple's day care, we went upstairs and sat down in our assigned seats. (We are not members of AJ, but they were nice enough to give us newcomers in town a pair of seats all the same.) After about ten minutes of services I felt the urge to put on a talis, so, not feeling all that strange about it after all, I took it out of my bag and put it on. I was far from alone, in fact most of the guys in the temple already had one on. I would have been conspicuous by not wearing one, I suppose, but that's not why I did it.
Why did I do it? My old Rabbi and friend, the late Josh Simon, used to say regarding religious stuff, "fake it till you make it." Meaning you may not feel authentic doing these various rituals and practices, but do them anyway, and eventually they will start to feel like they have become a part of you. In this way he encouraged me to wear a talis, for example, and Randi to try her hand at reading Hebrew.
So there was certainly an element of that in there. (Josh was a fascinating and amazing guy. He was probably about 45 and had been a journalist at Life Magazine. He played reggae-tinged rock music in the services, with him rocking out on a black Gibson SG electric guitar. He was a bit of a rabble rouser, a bit of an iconoclast. He once concluded a midrash--or exegesis--with this unforgettable thought. "What doe this all mean? I don't know, but I just think it's great!" Unfortunately Rabbi Josh passed away in early August 2005, right before he was to officiate our wedding. I could get more into it, but it would take a long, long time to write down how I felt about Josh. I loved the guy, you know?)
Another part of all this was that I wanted to put the talis on. I just did, it felt, for the first time, right. I can't explain it.
Maybe I am looking for things. I don't know, but I want to start living life less about me, me, me all the time and start reaching out to the world, in order to help it and help others more. I am a creative person and love to do creative stuff. I have spent large portions of my life around other creative types, and by nature we tend to be lovely, fun, fascinating people, but we also tend to be kind of self-centered. All those years I spent doing improv, which were wonderful, definitely gave me an insight into the minds of actors and comedians. They are great, they make wonderful friends, but there can be a certain focus on the self. I am sure this is not a surprise to most of you reading this, and many other folks have a similar issue.
But the self-centered life has not really made me happy. I never felt like I did enough for the world, never gave back enough. I would like to change that this year, and I am starting to think of various ways to do that. Becoming more involved with the local synagogue can potentially be one way. They have many programs to meet others and do various volunteer work. I am keenly interested now in learning more about these options.
We stayed in services until about 12:20 p.m. or so and then picked up Stella. She was in the playground with all the other little kids. The people watching the kids were sad to see her go. This little girl is quite loved by all who know her, I am convinced.
She ran over to us, with a little plastic cup in her hand that belonged to the temple. We tried to pry it from her hand, but then she started to scream and cry. She's almost 2 1/2 now and many, many things make her scream and cry. So we decided we would bring back the cup next time, if it was okay with the temple. Then Stella took our hands, and together we walked back to the car.
Oh, that's right, we have a new car, or at least one that is new to us. It's a Kia Rondo, a name that sounds like one of those late night commercials that sell you the pocket fisherman, or stuff like that. It's a crossover, which means it looks like an SUV, but really is a car at heart. This is for the good, as it drives and corners like a car, and gets pretty fair gas mileage--which was of critical importance to us--but is more roomy inside than a typical car with a similar wheelbase. I like it, and enjoy driving it around, but definitely was sad that we needed a second pair of wheels. More goods, more payments, more responsibility, more resources burned. All those things are true, but the fact is, you just can't have any sort of real life in Louisville without a car. It's fairly suburban in that light, and the public transportation system here has been rated as among the worst in the U.S.
So we pulled into the car. Stella's new thing is to say "It's hot!" whenever we get into the car, whether it's hot or not. But now we have an even newer thing, where I sagely shake my head and say "it's not hot." Then she nods too and repeats it. "It's not hot." Then I might put my hand on her face, and this will sound weird I know, and scream "brain eater!" She actually has grown to like this, believe it or not. In fact the other day she kept on repeating "bwain eata!" over and over, until I put my hand back on her face and did it again. In this way I am preparing Stella ... for what exactly? The upcoming zombie invasion? For life as the kid with a weird dad? I cannot know, but I am sure it will one day help Stella be a light unto all nations.
She ate lunch when we got home, we did not, and then she took a nap. But only after ensuring that about 25 stuffed animals--literally of all stripes--were on her bed. Right before naptime she panicked and screamed "mermaid!" She has a stuffed mermaid, you see. Then she jumped out of her bed like it was on fire and ran into the living room looking for it. In fact the mermaid was actually in her bed already, buried under other stuffed toys. Randi found it, and showed it to her. Stella, relieved, then climbed into her bed, and was ready for her nap. We turned on her white noise machine--a holdover from the days when she was the lightest sleeper in the world--turned out the light and closed the door.
She slept for about two hours, a good nap. During this time Randi napped and I read "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" which is a definite page turner, and one about a financial journalist to boot! (I knew we were a sexy profession full of intrigue!)
Once Stella awoke we got her some snacks and got out of the apartment. Among other things we went to the Crescent Hill library and bought some supplies for breaking the fast. Fasting really does take over the day, you know? Next year maybe we will go back to temple and put Stella back in the child care, I don't know.
Stella had dinner at 6:00 p.m. and we broke the fast at 6:30 p.m. It wasn't officially sunset at our apartment, but it had been 24 hours since we last ate, and, we reasoned, it was dark somewhere, you know? The food tasted delicious, as expected. We had bagels (bought at Panera because all the bagel stores here closed by 3:00 p.m.! In my hunger-induced state this pissed me off to no end, and made me angry that there wasn't one real New York bagel place in this town. I think I was being a bit overly critical, in retrospect), lox, some various salad type dishes bought at the super market, and challah. The challah was how I actually broke the fast, with some honey. It was great. Oh, and I also drank about a liter of ginger ale. Good times!
It's good to be a little hungry. One of the reasons we fast, I believe, is to be reminded that for some people the fast never ends. That hunger pain I feel once a year never ends for millions of people, including children, around the globe. In this way it makes me, I hope, more sensitive to the plight of those around the world who do not have the luxuries I truly do take for granted. In fact I think we should all fast at least once a year regardless of our religion, for 24 hours in a row. It might make the world a tinier bit more of a sympathetic place.
After the fast we gave Stella her bath and got her ready for bed. Her new thing is to scream "help!" whenever she is the slightest bit uncomfortable, like when we are putting on her pajamas. I promise, we are not torturing our daughter! So if you see us all out together and Stella is screaming for help, please realize that she might just be miffed at us for not buying her a third ice cream, not that we have punished her or anything like that. Just a reminder.
After Stella was put to bed we cleaned up a bit and watched Oliver Stone's movie "W." Stone has been accused of making up stuff in his films, and I wish he made this entire movie up, but, no George W. Bush really was our president and really did not understand what was going on in Iraq and really did rush us into a war when a little bit more time would probably have proven that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction. But now it's too late and history is what it is.
One prayer we say during services is for our leaders, to grant them wisdom. I always say it.
I know I promised to write about the high school reunion. Next time, I guess.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Erev Yom Kippur
The headline here means that tonight is Yom Kippur Eve. It's strange, being a Jew. Nobody goes to synagogue for the fun holidays but they pack 'em in for the most downbeat day off the entire year. This is the one you cannot miss if you want to consider yourself a real Jew, and it includes a fast no less. I know a lot of people who don't do anything religious all year and they still fast.
Anyway, sorry about the lack of blog posts recently. I really don't have a great excuse. I've been Mr. Momming it a lot recently, which is exhausting and time consuming. During the time I have off I am trying to get jobs, which seems to take a long time, and yield no real concrete results, at least not yet.
I have to be honest, during this time of year I miss the East Coast. The weather is as nice as it gets there and this time of the year is always special to me. Not just the leaves, but those too. It's everything, it feels like a time of renewal in the tri-state area.
I am still getting used to Louisville, but feel homesick to be honest. I still feel like I have to meet more people and do more things, become more social. It's been a real period of feeling like whatever I do or however busy I feel I feel I'm not doing enough, and am letting myself down. A negative train of though, I know, but I always feel I can do better and more.
Some good stuff too. I have tried to start a band, and it seems like the winds might be finally blowing in my direction. We had a great practice last Tuesday with a new drummer, an excellent guy named Steve. Great drummer too. We also have another singer guitarist, Scott, who is great, and a wonderful bassist, Tim. It's a jinx to talk about this stuff in public too much before we've even done one gig, but it has been a really, really fun project. I am so excited to play songs with these guys. Before this I had only played the songs for myself or maybe for Randi. The good news is they sound good with an actual band. Of course they need polishing, but that's to be expected. Still, what a thrill.
My big project I've been putting off is a book proposal. The problem is, I have to narrow whatever proposal I do to something easy to grasp and quick. This should not bee too hard, as I am an editor, but I haven't let myself have the time yet. Why? I'm being lame, I don't know. I have been told by many folks that I should do it. I would like to, too!
I am going to University of Louisville next week for orientation. I am interested in changing my path, and look forward to seeing the school. From there it is not at all inconceivable that I could begin an education major in the Spring semester. I need and want to try something new.
Stella is watching "The Wonder Pets" right now as I type. I feel guilty about making a cartoon her babysitter, but I have to have some time to do some of my projects.
Got a big dinner tonight, as we don't eat tomorrow. I was going to try my hand at a brisket, but it takes longer than I thought and we don't have all the ingredients anyway. So the brisket will have to wait.
Went home for Rosh Hashonah last weekend, and had a great, great time. I will write more about my high school reunion in the next entry. I almost didn't go, because I was embarrassed about being without a job, but my sister convinced me I should go anyway. Because a lot of these folks may not be around for the next reunion, know what I mean?
It was great to be home, see loved family and old friends. A good time was had by all and I left feeling very good about myself, despite my trepidation. But, like I said, more on that next time.
Ciao! (And easy fast for those who are fasting!)
Anyway, sorry about the lack of blog posts recently. I really don't have a great excuse. I've been Mr. Momming it a lot recently, which is exhausting and time consuming. During the time I have off I am trying to get jobs, which seems to take a long time, and yield no real concrete results, at least not yet.
I have to be honest, during this time of year I miss the East Coast. The weather is as nice as it gets there and this time of the year is always special to me. Not just the leaves, but those too. It's everything, it feels like a time of renewal in the tri-state area.
I am still getting used to Louisville, but feel homesick to be honest. I still feel like I have to meet more people and do more things, become more social. It's been a real period of feeling like whatever I do or however busy I feel I feel I'm not doing enough, and am letting myself down. A negative train of though, I know, but I always feel I can do better and more.
Some good stuff too. I have tried to start a band, and it seems like the winds might be finally blowing in my direction. We had a great practice last Tuesday with a new drummer, an excellent guy named Steve. Great drummer too. We also have another singer guitarist, Scott, who is great, and a wonderful bassist, Tim. It's a jinx to talk about this stuff in public too much before we've even done one gig, but it has been a really, really fun project. I am so excited to play songs with these guys. Before this I had only played the songs for myself or maybe for Randi. The good news is they sound good with an actual band. Of course they need polishing, but that's to be expected. Still, what a thrill.
My big project I've been putting off is a book proposal. The problem is, I have to narrow whatever proposal I do to something easy to grasp and quick. This should not bee too hard, as I am an editor, but I haven't let myself have the time yet. Why? I'm being lame, I don't know. I have been told by many folks that I should do it. I would like to, too!
I am going to University of Louisville next week for orientation. I am interested in changing my path, and look forward to seeing the school. From there it is not at all inconceivable that I could begin an education major in the Spring semester. I need and want to try something new.
Stella is watching "The Wonder Pets" right now as I type. I feel guilty about making a cartoon her babysitter, but I have to have some time to do some of my projects.
Got a big dinner tonight, as we don't eat tomorrow. I was going to try my hand at a brisket, but it takes longer than I thought and we don't have all the ingredients anyway. So the brisket will have to wait.
Went home for Rosh Hashonah last weekend, and had a great, great time. I will write more about my high school reunion in the next entry. I almost didn't go, because I was embarrassed about being without a job, but my sister convinced me I should go anyway. Because a lot of these folks may not be around for the next reunion, know what I mean?
It was great to be home, see loved family and old friends. A good time was had by all and I left feeling very good about myself, despite my trepidation. But, like I said, more on that next time.
Ciao! (And easy fast for those who are fasting!)
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
A New Jew In Lou
Okay, so one of the biggest concerns I had before The Move was how it would feel to be such a total, and complete minority here. And, no, this is not about voting Democrat.
It was, as has been described elsewhere, the Jewish problem. The problem being, mainly, that I am Jewish and the vast, vast majority of people in the greater Louisville area are not.
I've been in this situation before mind you. I lived in Boulder, Colo. for five years, where you'd go out on an average night and half the guys you'd see looked kind of like Thor, only bigger, and in more polar fleece. As for the girls, they all had names like Butterfly, had ankle tattoos and most could complete a full Triathlon before breakfast. It was kind of like living amongst really, really stoned Marines.
So it was with some relief that I moved back to the New York area in 2000. I wanted to be amongst my peoples again. This despite the fact that I couldn't score a date with the female members of my peoples to save my life back in high school and college.
Still, it was nice to have good bagels, and live amongst people who understood that "Seinfeld" was not a sitcom, it was more like a documentary.
Needless to say when Randi recommended we move a couple of years ago I feared the loss of this extended mishbucha. (Means family in Yiddish.) Would people understand me? Would everyone try to get us to join the 700 Club? Would there be a community for us to even join?
So far the answers to the above have been no, no and yes.
First, some back story. When I got here I didn't even know how many Jews there even were in Louisville. I knew the mayor was Jewish, but I didn't know if he would be immediately available for a nice Friday night dinner.
Randi and I were determined to stake out our place in the Jewish life of Louisville, no matter what. The community might be smaller here, we reasoned, but that probably means it's tight knit, and proud. We, as a people, have certainly endured worse!
After the initial hubbub of the move settled down we decided to check out synagogues, to see which one we felt comfortable in. We've gone to services at Reform and Conservative temples and have yet to find one that truly resonates with us, though we've enjoyed the people we've met so far.
I first went to a local conservative synagogue and what was really cool about it was that they had daycare for Stella. Because services really aren't her thing just yet, you know? So I got to experience the service without having to watch a toddling toddler.
I was told Louisville had an older community as many of the younger Jews are leaving for places like, yup, Brooklyn. But the community was quite old, to be frank about it. As the service progressed more and more younger people started to show up, but the service was still somewhat sparsely attended, and mostly old.
Then we went to a reform synagogue, which was a lot of fun, but this one had no daycare, so we had to watch Stella. She was completely unable to sit still, so we had to find ways to distract her. Luckily we discovered that she loves yarmulkes.
So while Randi was in the service I took Stella and walked around the temple and found a large box of yarmulkes. She basically dove into it, and put first one, then the other, on her head. She settled, more or less, on a purple satiny one that she really liked, and insisted on wearing for the next several hours.
After the service there was a little gathering over coffee and cake, where we met the rabbi and spoke to him. He had come to Louisville from Israel. (And I thought I had a trip to get here!) He was very friendly and warm.
We talked about the Jewish community in Louisville, or rather what there is of one. He told me the community was about 10,000 people strong. This didn't seem like much to me, as the metropolitan area has 1.5 million people. But 10,000 people could still fill most of Madison Square Garden, I guess.
After services we went to a bluegrass show at the Iroquois Amphitheater. During the show there was a lot of talk about Jesus, not to mention various songs about Jesus, not to mention that most of the people at the show almost certainly worshiped Jesus.
Now imagine the scene, Stella still has her yarmulke on. She loves the music! And she is totally grooving and bouncing around at this show, with a little yarmulke on. We wondered if anyone would even know what it meant? Would they think it's some kind of beret? I figured, though, that if anyone could get away with it, it would be our adorable two year old daughter. I personally wouldn't try it.
After the show an older woman walked right up to us. "Now isn't she just adorable with her little yarmulke on?" she cooed. So, at least someone knew!
From there we journeyed on. We explored different Jewish preschools, and learned that they are, on average, on 25% Jewish. The one with the most Jewish kids is all of 30% Jewish. I imagine they used to have more, but the younger Jews who reproduce are elsewhere.
As we toured one preschool we learned that contrary to that Rabbi told us Louisville actually only has 8,000 Jews, not 10,000. So there are more people who are, I believe, albino in Louisville than Jewish.
Having said that it's not that big a deal to me. We still get good challah on Friday, and I made sure to put a mezuzah on our door. (In a funny note this is our second mezuzah. The first one was made of stone and fell off our door and shattered, back in Brooklyn. I think we made God mad?)
So there I am, a new Jew in Lou. As the holidays are coming up I feel just as optimistic and upbeat about this time of year as I ever did. I do realize that I'm a bit of a minority here, but that's not what really bothers me. Mainly I just miss my Jewish family and friends back home. If they all showed up it could easily kick up the amount of Jews in this town to, say, 8,010.
It was, as has been described elsewhere, the Jewish problem. The problem being, mainly, that I am Jewish and the vast, vast majority of people in the greater Louisville area are not.
I've been in this situation before mind you. I lived in Boulder, Colo. for five years, where you'd go out on an average night and half the guys you'd see looked kind of like Thor, only bigger, and in more polar fleece. As for the girls, they all had names like Butterfly, had ankle tattoos and most could complete a full Triathlon before breakfast. It was kind of like living amongst really, really stoned Marines.
So it was with some relief that I moved back to the New York area in 2000. I wanted to be amongst my peoples again. This despite the fact that I couldn't score a date with the female members of my peoples to save my life back in high school and college.
Still, it was nice to have good bagels, and live amongst people who understood that "Seinfeld" was not a sitcom, it was more like a documentary.
Needless to say when Randi recommended we move a couple of years ago I feared the loss of this extended mishbucha. (Means family in Yiddish.) Would people understand me? Would everyone try to get us to join the 700 Club? Would there be a community for us to even join?
So far the answers to the above have been no, no and yes.
First, some back story. When I got here I didn't even know how many Jews there even were in Louisville. I knew the mayor was Jewish, but I didn't know if he would be immediately available for a nice Friday night dinner.
Randi and I were determined to stake out our place in the Jewish life of Louisville, no matter what. The community might be smaller here, we reasoned, but that probably means it's tight knit, and proud. We, as a people, have certainly endured worse!
After the initial hubbub of the move settled down we decided to check out synagogues, to see which one we felt comfortable in. We've gone to services at Reform and Conservative temples and have yet to find one that truly resonates with us, though we've enjoyed the people we've met so far.
I first went to a local conservative synagogue and what was really cool about it was that they had daycare for Stella. Because services really aren't her thing just yet, you know? So I got to experience the service without having to watch a toddling toddler.
I was told Louisville had an older community as many of the younger Jews are leaving for places like, yup, Brooklyn. But the community was quite old, to be frank about it. As the service progressed more and more younger people started to show up, but the service was still somewhat sparsely attended, and mostly old.
Then we went to a reform synagogue, which was a lot of fun, but this one had no daycare, so we had to watch Stella. She was completely unable to sit still, so we had to find ways to distract her. Luckily we discovered that she loves yarmulkes.
So while Randi was in the service I took Stella and walked around the temple and found a large box of yarmulkes. She basically dove into it, and put first one, then the other, on her head. She settled, more or less, on a purple satiny one that she really liked, and insisted on wearing for the next several hours.
After the service there was a little gathering over coffee and cake, where we met the rabbi and spoke to him. He had come to Louisville from Israel. (And I thought I had a trip to get here!) He was very friendly and warm.
We talked about the Jewish community in Louisville, or rather what there is of one. He told me the community was about 10,000 people strong. This didn't seem like much to me, as the metropolitan area has 1.5 million people. But 10,000 people could still fill most of Madison Square Garden, I guess.
After services we went to a bluegrass show at the Iroquois Amphitheater. During the show there was a lot of talk about Jesus, not to mention various songs about Jesus, not to mention that most of the people at the show almost certainly worshiped Jesus.
Now imagine the scene, Stella still has her yarmulke on. She loves the music! And she is totally grooving and bouncing around at this show, with a little yarmulke on. We wondered if anyone would even know what it meant? Would they think it's some kind of beret? I figured, though, that if anyone could get away with it, it would be our adorable two year old daughter. I personally wouldn't try it.
After the show an older woman walked right up to us. "Now isn't she just adorable with her little yarmulke on?" she cooed. So, at least someone knew!
From there we journeyed on. We explored different Jewish preschools, and learned that they are, on average, on 25% Jewish. The one with the most Jewish kids is all of 30% Jewish. I imagine they used to have more, but the younger Jews who reproduce are elsewhere.
As we toured one preschool we learned that contrary to that Rabbi told us Louisville actually only has 8,000 Jews, not 10,000. So there are more people who are, I believe, albino in Louisville than Jewish.
Having said that it's not that big a deal to me. We still get good challah on Friday, and I made sure to put a mezuzah on our door. (In a funny note this is our second mezuzah. The first one was made of stone and fell off our door and shattered, back in Brooklyn. I think we made God mad?)
So there I am, a new Jew in Lou. As the holidays are coming up I feel just as optimistic and upbeat about this time of year as I ever did. I do realize that I'm a bit of a minority here, but that's not what really bothers me. Mainly I just miss my Jewish family and friends back home. If they all showed up it could easily kick up the amount of Jews in this town to, say, 8,010.
Monday, September 6, 2010
New HuffPo Piece: Obama Vs. Hitler!
Hi All,
So this is why I was researching "Mein Kampf." I needed to do some research on Hitler for my new HuffPo piece comparing him to Barack Obama. Give it a read, you might even think it's funny!
Sincerely,
Dave
So this is why I was researching "Mein Kampf." I needed to do some research on Hitler for my new HuffPo piece comparing him to Barack Obama. Give it a read, you might even think it's funny!
Sincerely,
Dave
Friday, September 3, 2010
This Is Very Strange
I was on Amazon's page for "Mein Kampf"--doing research for another article--and below, no lie, are the Tags Customers Associate with This Product:
Click on a tag to find related items, discussions, and people.
Check the boxes next to the tags you consider relevant or enter your own tags in the field below.
glenn beck(1)
michelle malkin(1)
rand paul(1)
recommended by glenn beck(1)
ron paul(1)
ron paul reading list(1)
rush limbaugh(1)
sarah palin(1)
sarah palin reading list(1)
tea party movement(1)
tea party revival(1)
tea party(0)
As I said in the headline, very strange. Not one book in German!
Click on a tag to find related items, discussions, and people.
Check the boxes next to the tags you consider relevant or enter your own tags in the field below.
glenn beck(1)
michelle malkin(1)
rand paul(1)
recommended by glenn beck(1)
ron paul(1)
ron paul reading list(1)
rush limbaugh(1)
sarah palin(1)
sarah palin reading list(1)
tea party movement(1)
tea party revival(1)
tea party(0)
As I said in the headline, very strange. Not one book in German!
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A New Jew In Lou
Okay, so one of the biggest concerns I had before The Move was how it would feel to be such a total, and complete minority here. And, no, this is not about voting Democrat.
It was, as has been described elsewhere, the Jewish problem. The problem being, mainly, that I am Jewish and the vast, vast majority of people in the greater Louisville area are not.
I've been in this situation before mind you. I lived in Boulder, Colo. for five years, where you'd go out on an average night and half the guys you'd see looked kind of like Thor, only bigger, and in more polar fleece. As for the girls, they all had names like Butterfly, had ankle tattoos and most could complete a full Triathlon before breakfast. It was kind of like living amongst really, really stoned Marines.
So it was with some relief that I moved back to the New York area in 2000. I wanted to be amongst my peoples again. This despite the fact that I couldn't score a date with the female members of my peoples to save my life back in high school and college.
Still, it was nice to have good bagels, and live amongst people who understood that "Seinfeld" was not a sitcom, it was more like a documentary.
Needless to say when Randi recommended we move a couple of years ago I feared the loss of this extended mishbucha. (Means family in Yiddish.) Would people understand me? Would everyone try to get us to join the 700 Club? Would there be a community for us to even join?
So far the answers to the above have been no, no and yes.
First, some back story. When I got here I didn't even know how many Jews there even were in Louisville. I knew the mayor was Jewish, but I didn't know if he would be immediately available for a nice Friday night dinner.
Randi and I were determined to stake out our place in the Jewish life of Louisville, no matter what. The community might be smaller here, we reasoned, but that probably means it's tight knit, and proud. We, as a people, have certainly endured worse!
After the initial hubbub of the move settled down we decided to check out synagogues, to see which one we felt comfortable in. We've gone to services at Reform and Conservative temples and have yet to find one that truly resonates with us, though we've enjoyed the people we've met so far.
I first went to a local conservative synagogue and what was really cool about it was that they had daycare for Stella. Because services really aren't her thing just yet, you know? So I got to experience the service without having to watch a toddling toddler.
I was told Louisville had an older community as many of the younger Jews are leaving for places like, yup, Brooklyn. But the community was quite old, to be frank about it. As the service progressed more and more younger people started to show up, but the service was still somewhat sparsely attended, and mostly old.
Then we went to a reform synagogue, which was a lot of fun, but this one had no daycare, so we had to watch Stella. She was completely unable to sit still, so we had to find ways to distract her. Luckily we discovered that she loves yarmulkes.
So while Randi was in the service I took Stella and walked around the temple and found a large box of yarmulkes. She basically dove into it, and put first one, then the other, on her head. She settled, more or less, on a purple satiny one that she really liked, and insisted on wearing for the next several hours.
After the service there was a little gathering over coffee and cake, where we met the rabbi and spoke to him. He had come to Louisville from Israel. (And I thought I had a trip to get here!) He was very friendly and warm.
We talked about the Jewish community in Louisville, or rather what there is of one. He told me the community was about 10,000 people strong. This didn't seem like much to me, as the metropolitan area has 1.5 million people. But 10,000 people could still fill most of Madison Square Garden, I guess.
After services we went to a bluegrass show at the Iroquois Amphitheater. During the show there was a lot of talk about Jesus, not to mention various songs about Jesus, not to mention that most of the people at the show almost certainly worshiped Jesus.
Now imagine the scene, Stella still has her yarmulke on. She loves the music! And she is totally grooving and bouncing around at this show, with a little yarmulke on. We wondered if anyone would even know what it meant? Would they think it's some kind of beret? I figured, though, that if anyone could get away with it, it would be our adorable two year old daughter. I personally wouldn't try it.
After the show an older woman walked right up to us. "Now isn't she just adorable with her little yarmulke on?" she cooed. So, at least someone knew!
From there we journeyed on. We explored different Jewish preschools, and learned that they are, on average, on 25% Jewish. The one with the most Jewish kids is all of 30% Jewish. I imagine they used to have more, but the younger Jews who reproduce are elsewhere.
As we toured one preschool we learned that contrary to that Rabbi told us Louisville actually only has 8,000 Jews, not 10,000. So there are more people who are, I believe, albino in Louisville than Jewish.
Having said that it's not that big a deal to me. We still get good challah on Friday, and I made sure to put a mezuzah on our door. (In a funny note this is our second mezuzah. The first one was made of stone and fell off our door and shattered, back in Brooklyn. I think we made God mad?)
So there I am, a new Jew in Lou. As the holidays are coming up I feel just as optimistic and upbeat about this time of year as I ever did. I do realize that I'm a bit of a minority here, but that's not what really bothers me. Mainly I just miss my Jewish family and friends back home. If they all showed up it could easily kick up the amount of Jews in this town to, say, 8,010.
It was, as has been described elsewhere, the Jewish problem. The problem being, mainly, that I am Jewish and the vast, vast majority of people in the greater Louisville area are not.
I've been in this situation before mind you. I lived in Boulder, Colo. for five years, where you'd go out on an average night and half the guys you'd see looked kind of like Thor, only bigger, and in more polar fleece. As for the girls, they all had names like Butterfly, had ankle tattoos and most could complete a full Triathlon before breakfast. It was kind of like living amongst really, really stoned Marines.
So it was with some relief that I moved back to the New York area in 2000. I wanted to be amongst my peoples again. This despite the fact that I couldn't score a date with the female members of my peoples to save my life back in high school and college.
Still, it was nice to have good bagels, and live amongst people who understood that "Seinfeld" was not a sitcom, it was more like a documentary.
Needless to say when Randi recommended we move a couple of years ago I feared the loss of this extended mishbucha. (Means family in Yiddish.) Would people understand me? Would everyone try to get us to join the 700 Club? Would there be a community for us to even join?
So far the answers to the above have been no, no and yes.
First, some back story. When I got here I didn't even know how many Jews there even were in Louisville. I knew the mayor was Jewish, but I didn't know if he would be immediately available for a nice Friday night dinner.
Randi and I were determined to stake out our place in the Jewish life of Louisville, no matter what. The community might be smaller here, we reasoned, but that probably means it's tight knit, and proud. We, as a people, have certainly endured worse!
After the initial hubbub of the move settled down we decided to check out synagogues, to see which one we felt comfortable in. We've gone to services at Reform and Conservative temples and have yet to find one that truly resonates with us, though we've enjoyed the people we've met so far.
I first went to a local conservative synagogue and what was really cool about it was that they had daycare for Stella. Because services really aren't her thing just yet, you know? So I got to experience the service without having to watch a toddling toddler.
I was told Louisville had an older community as many of the younger Jews are leaving for places like, yup, Brooklyn. But the community was quite old, to be frank about it. As the service progressed more and more younger people started to show up, but the service was still somewhat sparsely attended, and mostly old.
Then we went to a reform synagogue, which was a lot of fun, but this one had no daycare, so we had to watch Stella. She was completely unable to sit still, so we had to find ways to distract her. Luckily we discovered that she loves yarmulkes.
So while Randi was in the service I took Stella and walked around the temple and found a large box of yarmulkes. She basically dove into it, and put first one, then the other, on her head. She settled, more or less, on a purple satiny one that she really liked, and insisted on wearing for the next several hours.
After the service there was a little gathering over coffee and cake, where we met the rabbi and spoke to him. He had come to Louisville from Israel. (And I thought I had a trip to get here!) He was very friendly and warm.
We talked about the Jewish community in Louisville, or rather what there is of one. He told me the community was about 10,000 people strong. This didn't seem like much to me, as the metropolitan area has 1.5 million people. But 10,000 people could still fill most of Madison Square Garden, I guess.
After services we went to a bluegrass show at the Iroquois Amphitheater. During the show there was a lot of talk about Jesus, not to mention various songs about Jesus, not to mention that most of the people at the show almost certainly worshiped Jesus.
Now imagine the scene, Stella still has her yarmulke on. She loves the music! And she is totally grooving and bouncing around at this show, with a little yarmulke on. We wondered if anyone would even know what it meant? Would they think it's some kind of beret? I figured, though, that if anyone could get away with it, it would be our adorable two year old daughter. I personally wouldn't try it.
After the show an older woman walked right up to us. "Now isn't she just adorable with her little yarmulke on?" she cooed. So, at least someone knew!
From there we journeyed on. We explored different Jewish preschools, and learned that they are, on average, on 25% Jewish. The one with the most Jewish kids is all of 30% Jewish. I imagine they used to have more, but the younger Jews who reproduce are elsewhere.
As we toured one preschool we learned that contrary to that Rabbi told us Louisville actually only has 8,000 Jews, not 10,000. So there are more people who are, I believe, albino in Louisville than Jewish.
Having said that it's not that big a deal to me. We still get good challah on Friday, and I made sure to put a mezuzah on our door. (In a funny note this is our second mezuzah. The first one was made of stone and fell off our door and shattered, back in Brooklyn. I think we made God mad?)
So there I am, a new Jew in Lou. As the holidays are coming up I feel just as optimistic and upbeat about this time of year as I ever did. I do realize that I'm a bit of a minority here, but that's not what really bothers me. Mainly I just miss my Jewish family and friends back home. If they all showed up it could easily kick up the amount of Jews in this town to, say, 8,010.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Well, THAT Was Fun!
So,
There was a kind of tempest in the (sweet?) teapot yesterday. As noted in my prior blog post I was officially welcomed to the city, along with Randi and Stella, via the blog "Consuming Louisville." I thanked them back, and thought it was all surprising and neat. (Backnote: "CL" had first read my HuffPo piece, so that's how they knew.)
But it got better.
Then another person saw the HuffPo piece and totally ripped me for being a hipster New York financial writer who deigned to grace The River City with my presence.
This kind of shocked me. For one ... me a hipster? Having lived in Brooklyn, the Mecca of all things Hipster I was astonished to learn that I was that fashionable. As I joked to someone else in the wake of this post, I had come to think of myself as about as trendy as unskinny jeans. I lack ironic facial hair, never wear Mideastern scarves and basically don't look or act like I'm on my way to a rave.
I mean, just look at that picture on the right side of this blog. Is it the blue Target-brand polo shirt? The sea green LL Bean backpack that I've had since the reign of George Bush Sr.? The khaki shorts that could have been stolen from my mom? If that is hip you'd better watch out Williamsburg!
Another thing that surprised me. I, with tongue in cheek, didn't say NYC was better than L-Ville, but that they came out to a draw. New York gets plenty of ribbing too.
Third, it was in the humor section of the HuffPo.
So that was that.
But it got even better. Next L-Ville's NPR station talked about my arrival, and the reaction to it, on their blog.
In short, I had gone viral. Which is a word that a married man pretty much would never want to hear in any other context.
Then about 30 more people started to follow me on Twitter, despite the fact that I have a token, at best, presence there. I appreciate this attention, for sure, and now I will make it my business to ensure that I make it worth their while.
Oh, and the local hip alternative weekly also picked up on my story. And even though they had mixed feelings about it, what can I say, I was flattered. (Although the blogger did call most of my list "lazy." Not fair, I woke up bright and early to write my listicle!)
So, this just goes to show, you really can't tell. I slaved over my "CEO Cover Stories For Dummies" article for the HuffPo, made sure every word landed with maximum impact, edited it probably at least a half dozen times. I had dreams about ways to make it better, tighter, funnier, more incisive. The general public's reaction, of course, was almost no reaction. Although I am grateful to say my sister really liked it.
This one, though it still took work and effort, was just way less intense. And, I thought, way more harmless. Imagine, I had thought editors and other journalists would rip me for the way I ripped CEO cover stories, but, really, no one cared all that much.
And the Louisville piece, by contrast, stirred up something akin to a hornet's nest. Although, to be fair, many, many of the comments were of the good-natured, sense of humor bearing, variety. My peoples! (BTW, I even had a PR company contact me via Twitter to tell me how to get ahead of this story. For real.)
So, you never know what people will react to.
It should also be noted that the thing that really ticked people off was my insinuation that Louisville doesn't have world class food. I listed hot browns (a delicious turkey and ham based dish with gravy, mmm), barbecue (double mmm) and Chik-Fil-A (triple mmm) as the things to eat here. And the irony is, I wasn't being ironic. I love all that stuff, really, really love it. In fact even though I am now well educated about how many great restaurants are here I am most excited to eat at a place called the Frankfort Avenue Beer Depot (or FABD), which has two giant meat smokers in the parking lot (I almost just wrote smokers without the meat part, but realized that would have conjured images of just two giant dudes smoking cigarettes), and looks like a place where Hell's Angels go when they want some brisket.
I wrote that about Louisville, fwiw, because good barbecue, hot browns and Chik-Fil-A are all things that we have here that New York doesn't have. Yes, and as I've learned, Louisville also has a burgeoning and great restaurant scene, but so does New York. I guess I could have made this point with a little more finesse?
I guess the food thing touched a nerve here. My guess would be that Louisville is a city that has made a lot of steps in the past decade or so to become more and more outward looking, cool and sophisticated. (I base this observation on what Randi, who grew up around here, has witnessed. The city today is nothing like the Louisville of her youth when it was, no pun intended, basically a one horse town. Now it is hip, alternative and striving to keep itself unique. I appreciate this.)
So, for me, some Eastern hipster financial writer, to come in and ignore all that hard work may have felt like a slap in the face to some folks around here. The New Yorkers, in classic fashion, just didn't care.
I guess I'm just not a foodie. But it's not like I was in NYC either. In fact my favorite restaurant in the entire city was a Thai place in Park Slope called Song. It was good, cheap and fast. I loved it, even though, if memory serves, it had seen at least a few health code violations in its day.
Anyway, so that's what happened yesterday. Lots of fun. Now, of course, I wonder what I will do next. Ah well, no matter what it's guaranteed to get a different reaction from the public than I expected. That's how it seems to work.
There was a kind of tempest in the (sweet?) teapot yesterday. As noted in my prior blog post I was officially welcomed to the city, along with Randi and Stella, via the blog "Consuming Louisville." I thanked them back, and thought it was all surprising and neat. (Backnote: "CL" had first read my HuffPo piece, so that's how they knew.)
But it got better.
Then another person saw the HuffPo piece and totally ripped me for being a hipster New York financial writer who deigned to grace The River City with my presence.
This kind of shocked me. For one ... me a hipster? Having lived in Brooklyn, the Mecca of all things Hipster I was astonished to learn that I was that fashionable. As I joked to someone else in the wake of this post, I had come to think of myself as about as trendy as unskinny jeans. I lack ironic facial hair, never wear Mideastern scarves and basically don't look or act like I'm on my way to a rave.
I mean, just look at that picture on the right side of this blog. Is it the blue Target-brand polo shirt? The sea green LL Bean backpack that I've had since the reign of George Bush Sr.? The khaki shorts that could have been stolen from my mom? If that is hip you'd better watch out Williamsburg!
Another thing that surprised me. I, with tongue in cheek, didn't say NYC was better than L-Ville, but that they came out to a draw. New York gets plenty of ribbing too.
Third, it was in the humor section of the HuffPo.
So that was that.
But it got even better. Next L-Ville's NPR station talked about my arrival, and the reaction to it, on their blog.
In short, I had gone viral. Which is a word that a married man pretty much would never want to hear in any other context.
Then about 30 more people started to follow me on Twitter, despite the fact that I have a token, at best, presence there. I appreciate this attention, for sure, and now I will make it my business to ensure that I make it worth their while.
Oh, and the local hip alternative weekly also picked up on my story. And even though they had mixed feelings about it, what can I say, I was flattered. (Although the blogger did call most of my list "lazy." Not fair, I woke up bright and early to write my listicle!)
So, this just goes to show, you really can't tell. I slaved over my "CEO Cover Stories For Dummies" article for the HuffPo, made sure every word landed with maximum impact, edited it probably at least a half dozen times. I had dreams about ways to make it better, tighter, funnier, more incisive. The general public's reaction, of course, was almost no reaction. Although I am grateful to say my sister really liked it.
This one, though it still took work and effort, was just way less intense. And, I thought, way more harmless. Imagine, I had thought editors and other journalists would rip me for the way I ripped CEO cover stories, but, really, no one cared all that much.
And the Louisville piece, by contrast, stirred up something akin to a hornet's nest. Although, to be fair, many, many of the comments were of the good-natured, sense of humor bearing, variety. My peoples! (BTW, I even had a PR company contact me via Twitter to tell me how to get ahead of this story. For real.)
So, you never know what people will react to.
It should also be noted that the thing that really ticked people off was my insinuation that Louisville doesn't have world class food. I listed hot browns (a delicious turkey and ham based dish with gravy, mmm), barbecue (double mmm) and Chik-Fil-A (triple mmm) as the things to eat here. And the irony is, I wasn't being ironic. I love all that stuff, really, really love it. In fact even though I am now well educated about how many great restaurants are here I am most excited to eat at a place called the Frankfort Avenue Beer Depot (or FABD), which has two giant meat smokers in the parking lot (I almost just wrote smokers without the meat part, but realized that would have conjured images of just two giant dudes smoking cigarettes), and looks like a place where Hell's Angels go when they want some brisket.
I wrote that about Louisville, fwiw, because good barbecue, hot browns and Chik-Fil-A are all things that we have here that New York doesn't have. Yes, and as I've learned, Louisville also has a burgeoning and great restaurant scene, but so does New York. I guess I could have made this point with a little more finesse?
I guess the food thing touched a nerve here. My guess would be that Louisville is a city that has made a lot of steps in the past decade or so to become more and more outward looking, cool and sophisticated. (I base this observation on what Randi, who grew up around here, has witnessed. The city today is nothing like the Louisville of her youth when it was, no pun intended, basically a one horse town. Now it is hip, alternative and striving to keep itself unique. I appreciate this.)
So, for me, some Eastern hipster financial writer, to come in and ignore all that hard work may have felt like a slap in the face to some folks around here. The New Yorkers, in classic fashion, just didn't care.
I guess I'm just not a foodie. But it's not like I was in NYC either. In fact my favorite restaurant in the entire city was a Thai place in Park Slope called Song. It was good, cheap and fast. I loved it, even though, if memory serves, it had seen at least a few health code violations in its day.
Anyway, so that's what happened yesterday. Lots of fun. Now, of course, I wonder what I will do next. Ah well, no matter what it's guaranteed to get a different reaction from the public than I expected. That's how it seems to work.
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