Hanukkah bush

Alice, the bush, as I promised, and aren't I terrific not to take the day off.

Once upon a time (my favorite story opener), when everyone
wanted to melt into the pot, when Hollywood stars had no ethnicity and being a
wasp was the ultimate goal, when Christmas meant color and lights and not so
much commercial frenzy, Jewish children wanted the same kind of celebration,
lights and color and trees with beautiful ornaments and presents.

Many Jews wanted to forget the war, forget the holocaust,
melt into the blond, blue eyed, Christian melting pot so they said, “The
Christmas tree is not a religious symbol. We can have a Christmas tree and we
will call it a Hanukkah bush.”

Hanukkah is a minor Jewish holiday celebrating the victory
of an army of religious Jews against their Greek rulers, 2200 years ago, who
wanted them to adopt Greek culture.

After three years of fighting, in
the year 3597, or about 165 B.C.E., the Maccabees victoriously reclaimed the
temple on Jerusalem's Mount Moriah. Next they prepared the temple for
rededication — in Hebrew, Hanukkah means "dedication." In the temple
they found only enough purified oil to kindle the temple light for a single
day. But miraculously, the light continued to burn for eight days. 

Because of its gift giving tradition and proximity to
Christmas, Hanukkah has become an important Jewish holiday in the US. As
awareness of the Holocaust grew, and people like Steven Spielberg and Mel
Brooks took pride in their Jewishness and didn’t become
WASPS, I think we have become more conscious of our Jewish culture and less
likely to have Hanukkah bushes with their mixed messages.You can find more information about the Hanukkah bush at
Wikipedia

Weekly wrap

I finally bought another printer and spent all yesterday afternoon printing out the Japan book. Now I just have to finish the covers. Looking at the photos again has left me trying to figure out if I can get back there again. I was very tired during my last few days last year. Perhaps, if I didn't stay so long…

I borrowed a Gigapan robot from my class and have been trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to take Gigapan pictures. I think a better camera would be helpful. Part of the requirement for using the robot is to put the camera on manual and lock everything down, including exposure. That's the part I can't seem to get. I'm not sure anything locks down. I'm going to try again this afternoon. I went over the Chatham where there is a view overlooking much of the East End of Pittsburgh, but there were too many trees in the way. If I ever manage to get something, I'll post a link to it.

Back to clothing again: I find I have two navy blue pin striped suits, not the same but ridiculously close. I bought both of these while I was still working and never wore either. I don't know where my head was. I'll probably get some use of one of them; the other is most likely headed out.

This is the second day of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, 5770. A Happy and Healthy New Year to all of you.

Monday, going no where

Woke up feeling awful this morning. Something I ate yesterday is trying to kill me, but I think I'm winning. At least I've opened my eyes, dressed, and have enough energy to sit at the computer.

Continuing my story of last week, I met Rose at the Jewish Museum on Thursday. Knowing we would never be able to look at an exhibit until after we spent time talking, we went down to the cafe, bought coffee and sat for more than an hour, catching up. Then we went upstairs to a marvelous exhibit: They Called Me Mayer July: Painted Memories of a Jewish Childhood in Poland Before the Holocaust. You can see lots of it online. We spent an equally long time looking at the exhibit, then finally went back downstairs for lunch.

I met Rose when I was working on my MA at Fairleigh Dickinson U. We had several classes together and being the older people in the program even though she's considerably younger than me, became friends. She's a young grandmother and very involved with her family. She is also an Orthodox Jew, which sometimes makes it difficult for both of us. In spite of everything we remain fond of each other and enjoy spending time together.

Thursday evening I went to Phyllis's for dinner. She still cooks lovely things and enjoys it, not like me.

Friday morning I walked over to the Guggenheim to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit. Nice show. In the evening I met Ann and Evy for dinner then went to the American Folk Art Museum, primarily to see a quilt show by Paula Nadelstern

Saturday I met C, the daughter of one of my dearest college friends. We had lunch then spent the afternoon walking through Central Park.

Sunday I went down to Chinatown, actually to go to a fabric store where I bought some netting, then had the lunch that probably did me in. Back to the Stitch and Bitch in the evening.

I have now seen all of my New York friends, except three. I'm meeting Mary B for dinner tonight, even if I don't eat, and I imagine I'll get to one of the others, also.

Day and day after

Last night was the Seder: family, good food, the usual. Renee got a new Haggadah for us: The 30 minute Seder. I like to think of myself as open to change, and I often hated the books we used in the past, but I didn't like this one either. I appreciated the brevity, but found it a strange mix of instruction and poor story-telling. After all, we are telling a story during the Seder. Earlier on this wonderful spring day I walked from First Ave. & 93rd St. to Lexington and 56th to have lunch with friends. We sat, talking, almost two hours, then walked in Central Park. Lovely afternoon.

I ate too much last night and didn't want to get out of bed this morning. I didn't drink enough wine to call it a hangover, but that's sort of what it felt like. I had two dates today: big motivation. Met Jacqueline for coffee and a look at her proof sheets–lovely photographs of temples and gardens. Makes me want to return to Japan. I'd like to go from October to May so I could look at the gardens in all seasons. It won't happen, but I can dream.

Met Jean for coffee in the afternoon. We met when I was active with Empire Quilters, years ago. She and Mary are people I've maintained as friends. I come to New York now as much as to see my good friends as to do things in the city. 

A kiss

I had not intended to publish this when it appeared on Saturday afternoon. It was a draft and I intend to continue working on it. I was working on the funky computer I traveled with, and I swear it has a life of it's own. The ending has changed. If you read it before, please read it again.

Last night I went to our usual Shabbat dinner at Robin and Steve's. I
enjoy these dinners. It's a way of connecting with the family; finding
out what's been happening all week; just being family together. There
were just the four of us; Charna was home, but Eli is back in Chicago. 
This weekend they had a house guest, a rabbi who had come to visit their
synagogue. He had dinner at the synagogue and arrived at the house just
as we were cleaning up from dinner. When he was introduced to me I put
out my hand to shake his just as he was about to bend down to  kiss me.
He stopped and shook my hand. I didn't think much about the whole thing
until this morning. He had tea and dessert with us; told us about some
of his experiences interviewing at various synagogues and some things
about the place he works.

As I was getting ready to leave the rabbi came over to say goodby
and kissed me; I didn't duck in time. I've been thinking about this ever since. I don't like
being kissed except by family, close friends and people I am intimate
with. At gallery openings I accept that everyone kisses everyone; I
don't like  it, but it doesn't offend me. This kiss bothered me. I thought it was
the sweet old lady, grandmother type of kiss; the same kind of subtle ageism Ronni Bennett
writes about. But Robin told me he tried to kiss her too. She also managed to shake hands. So maybe it wasn't ageism; maybe I'm too sensitive; maybe rabbis from the east coast kiss everyone. I still don't like it. I think it devalues the kiss.

Hannah’s Bat Mitzvah

Preparation for a bar or bat mitzvah is difficult and takes a long time. The child, becoming an adult, is expected to learn to chant, not just read, in Hebrew, a portion of the Torah. To understand it sufficiently to speak about it as part of the service. Hannah was required to read the first portion of Eikev, Deuteronomy 7:12-11:25, a long section where God is telling the Israelites to obey his laws and not take for granted the land of milk and honey he is about to give them.

Beware that you do not forget the Lord, your God, by not keeping His
commandments, His ordinances, and His statutes, which I command you
this day,

lest you eat and be sated, and build good houses and dwell therein,

and your herds and your flocks multiply, and your silver and gold increase, and all that you have increases,

and your heart grows haughty, and you forget the Lord, your God, Who
has brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage,

I can't believe that I, the unbeliever am quoting scripture, but I really enjoyed this one.

You shall know that, not because of your righteousness, the Lord, your
God, gives you this land to possess it; for you are a stiffnecked
people.

Remember do not forget, how you angered the Lord, your God, in the
desert; from the day that you went out of the land of Egypt, until you
came to this place, you have been rebelling against the Lord.

I wonder about the mixed message the kids get from this–reading the stern message of God and all the while preparing for the PARTY, the place, the music, the food, the dress. I don't mean this as a criticism of Hannah and her parents. They are great people and have done a wonderful job of raising Hannah and her brother. I am very fond of all of them. I just can't help but wonder, in general, at the failure of the real message, because clearly, we fail. In most cases the party far outshadows what should be the real learning experience; both the child and parents learn only about parties. Pictures of the party when I return home.

New York weekend

This was a weekend of contemporary art and Jewish culture, not together. On Thursday Renee and I went to Chelsea and looked at galleries for about two hours. We saw some lovely Japanese ceramics, although nothing extraordinary, an interesting exhibit of the work of Yinka Shonibare, and not much else I can remember. Our real reason for going to Chelsea was a performance at a comedy club.

Are you scratching your head wondering why we were going to a comedy club? Perhaps I should have done more head scratching before I ordered the tickets. The performance was the opening event in a festival called, "Jews and Power," written up as follows:

From Queen Esther to Jon Stewart, Jews have taken delight in skewing
the powers that be. Join us for an evening of political satire,
featuring standup by Jeff Kreisler ("Comedy Against Evil"), skits from
New York’s funniest Purim show ("The Shushan Channel"), a celebrity
reading from the upcoming film "Hebrew Hammer II," songs from "Nice
Jewish Girls Gone Bad" and "Good for the Jews," and much more.

I should have read it more carefully: I didn’t recognize any of the names except Jon Stewart, and he wasn’t part of it. We found some of it to be funny, but easily two thirds of it just didn’t resonate with us. We never heard of these people. This event, and the lectures I attended today, was sponsored by Nextbook, a group that promotes Jewish culture. I’m sure the comedy event was meant to attract young people. Unfortunately, most of the audience was over 50, as was today’s audience for much more serious discussions, about culture, assimilation, Israel and antisemitism, along with power, the need for it and our abdication of it. Very interesting, and much more interesting than the comedy club.

On Friday, my Jewish weekend included a movie, "Constantine’s Sword," a fascinating examination of antisemitism from a Christian point of view. I highly recommend it.

Saturday, the Sabbath, which should have been a Jewish day, was another day of art. I took the train up to Pelham to visit with old friends, and we went to Yonkers to an art studio open house. My friends knew two of the artists, a husband and wife team of photographers. They had a beautiful show of photos from China.

The artist studios are in an old building that was once the Alexander Smith Carpet Co, another manufacturer long gone. In addition to the artists we visited a piano restorer and got to see how they handle the innards of a piano, and a stained glass restorer. Both of those studios were really fascinating; well worth the trip.

After dinner we went for a walk on Glen Island, a part of New York that was entirely new to me. My weekend also included visits to two different street fairs. I’ll have some pictures and more to say about them when I return to Pittsburgh.