My Yiddish wish for you all:May you never know from such pain and troubles. Ken ir keynmol visn fun aza tsuris.
My Yiddish wish for you all:May you never know from such pain and troubles. Ken ir keynmol visn fun aza tsuris.
Today, I am relieved, ecstatic, joyful, delighted, and kvelling to learn that all 12 boys and their soccer coach are rescued, safe and sound. The collective global sigh of relief is holding me up and getting me through the rough parts of our world. There really are heroes in the world. We need to celebrate them!
Hold your kinderlach (children) closer today, and every day.
Troubles overcome are good to tell. Ibergekumene tsores iz gut tsu derseylin.
Technically, it is July 4th, Independence Day in the states, and I couldn’t be farther from feeling patriotic, proud of my country or the people who are running it. Truth is, our country
scares the shit out of me daily frightens me in a way I have never before experienced.
Today, I welcome the day off with my family. I welcomed sleeping in a bit, relaxing. But I am not feeling very red, white or blue — well, blue only in the sense of a deepening sadness. Human dignity and freedoms are now being stolen daily. The immigrant crisis, where children are being separated from their parents and sent to ‘camps’
technically for purposes of law! WTF and the parallels to the atrocities of the Holocaust haunt me. Please, dear friends, we cannot have another global miscarriage of morals, ethics, and values. Please, hear the cries, feel the pain. Act. Scream. Shout at the top of your lungs.
I move forward only by seeing the cries of injustice rallied far and wide. I hold strong and hard in my belief that we, the greater we of like minds, fairness, civility, compassion, and empathy can right this veering ship.
We must hold on this holiday, more than all others, the belief that the people of our world can and will come together and change the confluence of attitudes and events that are swirling together like the perfect storm. We have to raise the bar
on just about everything in the world on human rights. We all need to care.
#NeverAgain #NotOneMore #NeverForget #MeToo #BlackLivesMatter #CivilRights #LGBTQrights #MomsDemandAction #Vote #worry #gunsense #Immigration #MuslimBan #SupremeCourt #Antisemitism #WomensRights
I wish I could have the pain instead of you, my children. Mir zol zeyn far dir mayn kinder.
Friends, be safe. A bie genzunt. Go in good health.
June is National Gun Violence Prevention Month.
Shouldn’t June be, Hello, Summer, Month? Living here in these United Divided States, it’s something I take very seriously. Last year, I wore orange for Hadiya Pendleton. You can read about Hadiya and why #WearOrange became a movement here. I think about Hadiya daily, her stolen childhood and untapped, unfulfilled dreams. My heart breaks when I think about how her parents and friends must feel. And having never met her, I am deeply saddened that her bright light no longer shines in our world.
Hey, hey. Ho, ho. The NRA has got to go! HEY, HEY. HO, HO. THE NRA HAS GOT TO GO!
I look at my kinder (children) and I wonder if/when this epidemic of gun violence will stop. It is a health crisis, as virulent as Ebola. On June 2, I marched again, my Mrs., Little, and Big at my side. The crowd was little bigger, but not big enough. Hadiya deserved more people marching in her honor, a sea of orange for a necessary sea change… Gun violence must not be the new normal. We should feel safe going about our days. Our own president
ugh publicly addressed the NRA ugh ugh at their annual Convention and said, “I will not let you down. I will not let you down.”
We can END GUN VIOLENCE! We can END GUN VIOLENCE!
Movita Johnson-Harrell. I #WearOrange for her too. This inspiring woman has lost her father, brother, and teen-aged son to homicide by gun violence. Tsuris (devastating pain, grief) does not begin to cover what she has been through in her lifetime. Her speech at our March in Philadelphia left nary a dry eye. My Mrs., she was verklempt (all choked up). Yet Movita, she gets up every day, puts a smile on her face, and works very hard to make sure no other momma will ever feel the pain she feels or experiences what she has experienced. She was even selected by our new D.A. Larry Krasner, a good man, as Interim Supervisor of Victims Services. Who could understand victims and their families more than Movita? Through her broken heart, she helps others. A real mensch (good person, through and through).
Guns down! GUNS DOWN! Guns down! GUNS DOWN!
Tell me what democracy looks like. THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!
Marching and gathering peacefully in protest is my right as a citizen, and I need to do more. Each week, volunteering with Moms Demand Action, I make telephone calls to constituents all over the country, urging them to contact their legislators about concealed carry reciprocity. I often get yelled at, hung-up on, told that the person on the other end of the line is carrying… and I also, often connect, listen, politely inquire, challenge, and charmingly change the thought process with real facts. It is one of the toughest, yet most rewarding 60 minutes during my week. Together with other volunteers, Moms has driven hundreds of thousands of phone calls to elected officials to battle the NRA and the ballot box.
I #WearOrange because I’m a mom who cannot comprehend losing a child, a family member, to gun violence. I #WearOrange to raise awareness. I #WearOrange because change will not happen unless we make it happen. I #WearOrange for all of the victims and their families. I #WearOrange because I know that #BlackLivesMatter. I #WearOrange for the #LGBTQ community. I #WearOrange for all the tragic, senseless massacres at schools, concerts, movie theatres… I #WearOrange for all of us who are oppressed, marginalized, hated and victimized. I #WearOrange because I believe we need to drastically reduce access to guns. I #WearOrange because we need to treat mental illness without shame or stigma. I #WearOrange for all the families left behind from suicide. I #WearOrange because I care about the future. I #WearOrange because our elected officials need to see us and we need to vote. I #WearOrange and I hope you will too.
Gay gezunteh hait. Go in good health.
L’chiam! To life!
Spring break and we have been counting the days to our trip to see my mishpocheh (family). We’ve had four Nor’easters in 3 weeks, snow up to my tuchas (tush, derriere) and all too much tsuris (troubles, stress, woe) filling our minds. The thought of 80-degree weather, sunshine, swimming, and laughing
my ass off with my shvester (sister) until we literally wet ourselves was naturally the stuff of dreams… like unicorns, L.O.L surprise dolls, and glitter falling from the sky. And the kinder (my girls), they love seeing their Aunt, Uncle, and Cousins more than anything!
T minus two days, and the fever, she burns through my Little. A temperature of almost 104. She had complained of a tummy ache, and like all good Jewish-atheist momma’s, I told her to sit on the potty. She has had so much junk food of late, a good poo would be a relief
like it would for all of us. She tried, my madelah (sweet girl). We watch The Greatest Showman on the telly.
T minus one day, fever sticking around like gum underneath the table in a diner. Lethargy and skin as pale as fine porcelain
said porcelain will play a role very soon. We plan, we pack, we share the news of germs and we try to stay positive. We watch The Greatest Showman, then we snuggle off to bed, my Little wrapped tightly in my arms. A few tired hours pass and we all awaken to a fountain of vomit. Nothing really says love more than getting thrown up on, and only worrying about the helpless, unhappy, scared little patient in your arms. We clean her up. Big, she helps us to change the sheets and blankets. The Mrs. presses the ‘sanitize’ button on the wash cycle.
There is a strange calm in the air, with a scent none too pleasant. Little, she fell fast and hard to sleep, again tucked close by my side. I could hear the soft crying moans from Big, realizing that we wouldn’t be taking that big ol’ jet airliner in a few hours time. Tears roll down my cheeks, silently. At 4 am I text my shvester, our friend who was to stay with Gatsby. We are a no go. Ix-nay on this oliday-hay.
Has the world ended? No. Are we grateful that we only have a petite passing pathogen that will eventually vanish? Of course. Are we all desperately disappointed? Big time.
Day of. I let all three of my girls sleep. I promise my Big that we will find a way to make it fun. That we will take turns taking her out of the sickly house and have some well-earned fun. I speak several times with my mishpocheh. My schvoger (bro-in-law), he punches frantically in the keyboard to see if we can squeeze out different dates of travel, salvage our trip. We have teary-eyed FaceTime calls. So many plans they had in store for us! Vey iz mir. (oh my
Little, she cries for my Mrs. to stay with her, so Big and I make our way into the world. We have a nice nosh (little something to eat) at Starbucks. And head to the movies in a gray, teary day. We see A Wrinkle In Time. The woman at the ticket sales booth is 803 years old if she is a minute. In the past, she has given me the senior rate, to my dismay. Today, she again rings us up, 1 senior, 1 child. I feel the dark cloud above, rather than reveling in the 8 dollar savings.
f*ck it and enjoy the show with your daughter
We had a lovely afternoon and decided Little, she would have been afraid in this movie. We bring home a vast array of popsicles (they used to call them poppa-sicles) for the sick one, in hopes of getting her to eat/drink. We learn of the day spent in (and close to) the porcelain seat, now the excrement exodus from the southern region. Oy. This reaffirms our tough decision. We watch The Greatest Showman.
Little finally wakes up with no fever and no symptoms. We convince her of just one more day indoors. The 24 hour, fever free rule — to keep the rest of humanity safe.
Her hair has begun to form dreadlocks. We all fear the brushing of that mop. The Mrs., she starts round one, and Big, me and Gatsby head out the door to explore our new ‘hood. We walk for an hour, in hopes of better hair days. We have such a good time! Gatsby is loving the spring and leaving pee-mail messaging around for all his new friends.
We open the front door to a geshrei (shriek, loud, unearthly
Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween cry). At least another hour goes by, and I am summoned so Big can get out’a dodge with the Mrs. Armed with a brush, conditioner, and really bad TV, I sit with my muse. It will be 4:45pm before I claim victory. Her head, like a BP oil spill, finally combs through. We did it.
Later that night, we watch The Greatest Showman. Who knew our spring break, our circus, would also be our groundhog day. Aud-o, Steve-o, Max, Vic, we love and miss you all so much.
A mensch tracht un Got lacht. Man plans and God laughs.
From The Greatest Showman:
‘Cause we’re dreaming with our eyes wide open.
So come alive!
And of course, a bei gesunt. As long as you’re healthy! Stop by tonight! The Greatest Showman, 8pm.
Mr. President, members of Congress, legislators, and elected officials, f*ck your thoughts, prayers, flags at half-staff, and hollow condolences. Your inertia is astounding and I am angry. Columbine. Marshall High. Sandy Hook. Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Our kinder (children) are dying. What is it going to take to get you to make change?
The constant misinterpretation of the Second Amendment is reprehensible. Bloated white men in high offices are allowing young white males to steal childhood, eternally changing families before our eyes.
How is it that anyone outside of a highly trained militia, can purchase a gun meant for nothing less than mass destruction and terror?
In these United States: you must be 18 years of age to vote in an election
assuming you have the wherewithal to register to vote and muster up the energy to actually show up at your place of polling.
You must be 21 years of age to legally by alcohol. Most states, including Florida, have zero-tolerance alcohol laws when it comes to alcohol purchase and consumption. ZERO TOLERANCE.
As a kid growing up in sunny south Florida, we, all of us, had fake ID’s that made alcohol purchase easy.
In many states, just like Florida, at the tender age of 18, you can purchase a rifle, shotgun or, say, for example, a militaristic style, long-gun, like the AK-47 or the AR-15. In many other states, in full support of American gun culture and hunting, you can be as young as 14. Fourteen.
You can be hormonally challenged
by a newly-formed pimple, bullied or rejected, and/or filled with normal teenage angst, and still legally purchase a long gun for hunting. This is not the 1800’s, and most of us are no longer ‘Pa’ from Little House on the Prairie, desperately trying to track and kill a bison for the winters’ feeding of one’s family.
In most states, including Florida, you must be 21 years of age to buy a handgun
the kind that shoots only 1 bullet at a time.
I am in full support of gun safety background checks, like the majority of this country. However, now is the time that we all must come together, parties aside, and ban all semi-automatic weapons sales. Ban all assault weapons. They are not the fabric of our rich American history. Yet history, they are certainly making.
We cannot dare become numb or normalize these massacres. Nor will banning all semi-automatic weapons stop these horrific acts of terror. But it is clear that we cannot and must not sit back and watch.
If change cannot come from the top down, then we all must rise from the bottom, up. As adults, moms, dads, caregivers, it is our job to protect our kinder (children). This #MomDemandsAction
What will become of the sheep if the wolf is the judge? Vos vet vern fun di sheps aoyb di volf iz di rikhter?
Tonight is the eve of the 1 year
weirdest year in my lifetime anniversary of the Women’s March, where pink pussy hats bopped atop millions way more than those who attended the inauguration of marching women (men and children too), across the US and in countries around the globe. We gathered in protest of violence and sexual harassment, for reproductive rights, gender equality, and quite frankly, against our new president (little p) and his band of bad men. We were and continue to be, a viable, visible force of peaceful people saying wtf just happened looking for answers and questioning truths. One dizzying, nauseating year later, what’s changed? We went from strong women proudly marching to women governing and legislating. We ran for office and we are winning! This weekend, get your walking shoes on. “Cause we still have some work to do my friends.
I’ve got my walking shoes on… so hear me ROAR!
#metoo #blacklivesmatter #neveragain #muslimregistry #strongwomen #weshowedup #resistmrt
Nu? This mr t, he has me farklempt (all choked up) with his evil and hatred. Not too long ago, I wrote a post, I AM WOMAN HEAR MY VOICE. Well, I’ve taken it to the stage folks. Please, bear with my
(awful) voice as I stumble through my own, personal feminist anthem.
Please feel free to sing along. If only to cover up my voice! Vey iz mir…I’m meshuggeneh (crazy), but I am so motivated to peacefully make a change. (I said peacefully, not notefully!) Because Never Again, is now folks.
science branch of knowledge projection of fear tsuris (troubles) concerned with the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services buying the stuff you need today, tomorrow and the next day for your family.
Meshuggah (crazy) behaviors or actions, that oftentimes arise
with heart palpitations creatively as the direct result of the scarcity of means, in order to achieve certain common and normal ends. Huh? ex.: We need to brush our teeth, we still, really!!! have no toothpaste… Achh!
Take a look at this photo. I walked into our bathroom the other day, and this is what I saw, no joke! From our loo to your eyes. I ran for my magical iPhone to snap this baby. And with this, comes a tale. After all, you that is why you are here …
Did you know, that when you run out of toothpaste, you can actually cut the tube in two or three parts, and have enough toothpaste to last a
normal family of four at least five more days? Did you also know that when the deodorant thingy-mah-jiggy-holder falls from its container and bounces on the bathroom floor a few times and lands in the corner, a linty, hairy mess, you can remain odor free for about two weeks more, if you pick it up, wipe away the yuck, and rub it under your arms? Two weeks! And, that pump in the shampoo bottle… when that stops pouring out perfect spurts of soapy suds-making, you can lengthen and lusciously lather for days, maybe even a week if you take it off? The little straw itself holds two days worth of ‘do-cleaner! Then, the bottom of the bottle, don’t get me started! It’s robbery! In Yiddish, we call this, aroizgevarfeneh (pronounced ah-royz-geh-varf-ehn-uh). It literally means thrown out, wasted.
Extrapolate this scenario out across your personal purchases: think about the sunscreen, moisturizer, conditioner, make-up (like I would know, Nu?) caulk, paint, glue, … wait, don’t. It’s too upsetting to think of the money we’ve all
put in the landfill left at the table. Look at this little Yiddisheh gem:
It is not so good with money, as it is bad without. Es iz nit azoi gut mit gelt es iz schlect on dem.
Living in the frugal lane, we’ve learned some very good money-saving tips and ideas. We’ve all worked to change our anti-penny-pinching ways many years ago. It’s all good. And we’ve
argued and cried learned and grown. Vey iz mir (OMG!), it is madness if any of you let the above actions go unnoticed! Think conservation! Teaching the kinder (children) about resources and savings, everyday environmentalism and, well spartanomics!
My glass is always half-full. Now, I think it may be even more full than I ever imagined! What I do know:
To make promises and to love don’t cost any money. Tsuzogn un lib hoben kostn kain gelt nisht.
So try these tips. See if you save. If you have tips for us, please! Do tell! My Mrs. and me, we are trying
desperately to save our money for a home. Alevai! (It should only happen!) These small humans we are raising, Little and Big, they cost a fortune! And, yes, these shanah maidels (sweet little girls), they are indeed priceless.
This is one tough world we live in… but who am I to tell you that? I wake up each morning and cautiously look at my
smartphone, one eye opens at a time, and already, I get discouraged.
Stuff yourself with hope and you can go crazy. Fun loiter hofenung ver ich noch meshuggah.
Grateful? Mindful? Of course! Every day I remind myself of the good. And yet still, there is so much bad in the news, in the world, in our lives, in the lives of our friends. So what to do? I must find the laughter. Share the laughter, and add to the contagion in the chaos of the smile theory.
Laughter is heard farther than weeping. A gelechter hert men veiter vi a gevain.
So here’s a little story to share:
Right before school started, the Mrs. and me, we needed to get the kinder (kids) leggings and jeans. We went to Old Navy, you know, the cheap version of Gap? We found quite the sale, which
better fits our frugal finances of $0 per month on frocks and finery. We found about 8 -10 pair, a shirt or two, and we were only lighter by $30-some dollars (That’s a -$30-some on the master budget spreadsheet). Not bad. Don’t you know, when we got home, the first pair my Big wants to wear has a dime sized hole mittendrinnen (smack dab in the middle of) her tuchas (tushy, butt, derriere)? I dry the tears and promise to sew this slit and salvage the day. After all, I am of the age that literally had to take Home Economics in school ( feminism, oy vey). What part of baking brownies and crocheting toilet paper roll covers made that class economics? Oy, a whole other blog post right there. Needless to say, I made a promise.
A needle and thread were tough to find in our little flat, so two weeks later, I
finally remember to make a trip to the local pharmacy. For $4.95, I buy a small kit to fix the leggings that were $1.99. Little, not caring a bit about the rip on the rump, had already worn them to school. Big, she has been hock mier chinik (banging on my tea kettle, yammering on and on) for me to make the fix.
It doesn’t cost anything to promise and to love. Tsuzogen un lib hoben kost nit kain gelt.
This morning, it was the first thing I set out to do. These pants, shmata (rags) no more! I make a nice hot coffee and place the new sewing kit, and the lacerated leggings all in arms reach. Gatsby, he is securely settled in my lap in support. Children nestled all snug in
their beds our bed. I begin.
Threading a needle is a tad bit more difficult than I recall. Glasses on. Glasses off. Like Karate Kid, I repeat this mantra. At 654 months old, home ec or not, it took me over 25 minutes to put the blue
f***ing thread through the teeny, tiny needle. Less than three minutes of sewing said slit, and I’m done. My Big, she is still sleeping. I almost want to wake her to see the joy on her shanah punim (beautiful, radiant face). I know she will wear them immediately.
I get up and proudly look in the mirror
who the h*ll is that wrinkly old lady with gray hair? (Glasses on. Glasses off) as I brush my coffee tinted breath. I laugh. Maybe this gray coif is the silver lining of optimism I need.
I hope you all laugh today, and continue to find the laughter. We need it.
theory therapy. Yup, you read that right. Today marks the day that I begin. I share with all of my fellow humans, my smile therapy, in the hopes that the contagion of a smile, made by seeking eye contact and sharing with any and all individuals and groups I encounter, will elicit a return smile. May those strangers, knowingly or unknowingly, share that smile forward throughout their day. May this much-needed therapy for me, have a similar effect for those that carry on, unaware that they have been smiled upon… and may the smile spread across the world, like the butterfly effect.
Smile a bit in traffic at your fellow drivers
if they can look up from their smart phones. Let that car edging out of a parking lot, get out in front of you, even though you may miss the green light. Hold open that door for those behind you. Wave and say hello across to the people walking across the street from you. Let’s do this differently. Smile.
I made a conscious start this morning while I walked with my Gatsby. Five complete strangers smiled back at me and wished me a fine morning. As total unknowns, we schmoozed (talked) about the beautiful day ahead, the cuteness of my pup, the way the sun felt nice on our backs. My hope is that this therapy will reach you, wherever you may be residing. And may the effect linger, lovingly and empathetically, to all in its spell. We may be able to heal this
shit show of a vulnerable, unhappy world after all.
The butterfly effect is the concept that small causes can have large effects.
Too much is going on. We need to heal. Are you in with me? Let me know how your smile therapy goes. Please. It can’t hurt. Nu?
The bitterest misfortune can be covered up with a smile. Dem bitersten mazel ken men farshtellen mil a schmaichel.
And remember, just when that caterpillar thought the whole world was over, what did she become? A butterfly. A meshuggeneh (crazy) flight pattern, some lovely flowers to flutter by, freedom, and a touch of sunshine on her wings.
I woke up today, a good thing. So did you, because you are reading. Nu? Already, two good things. I looked at the news on my phone… Palm Sunday Church bombings in Egypt. Dozens killed. US Aircraft carrier heading over to get closer to North Korea. A deadly truck attack in Sweden. Sweden??
I took Gatsby on a walk on a nice sunny morning and I said, “G, we need to see some sign of hope.” On the way home, look what I saw.
The highest form of wisdom is kindness. di hekhstn far fun khkhmh iz guthartsikayt.
May we all wise up and have hope.
Nu? This mr t, he has me farklempt (all choked up) with his evil and hatred. Not too long ago, I wrote a post, I AM WOMAN HEAR MY VOICE. Well, I’ve taken it to the stage folks. Please, bear with my (awful) voice as I stumble through my own, personal feminist anthem.
Please feel free to sing along. If only to cover up my voice! Vey iz mir…I’m meshuggeneh (crazy), but I am so motivated to peacefully make a change. Because Never Again, is now folks.
Please don’t take away my Obamacare. Officially known as the Affordable Care Act, Obamacare is part of President Barack Obama’s (my Barack!) brilliant domestic legacy. No matter what mr t and his ‘swampsters‘ plan to do or achieve in their terroristic plans to rid the American people of basic health care, it will remain a historical feat to be celebrated. We had a president who cared about us, authentically. Now, we have shpilkis (knots in our guts, pins and needles).
‘Repeal and replace’ are terms bandied about by the billionaires who now bully our working, huddled masses. The GOP are treating ACA like it’s ISIL. And that’s a problem. My family, we have been a part of the ACA since the beginning. We were there at the launch that admittedly was flawed. The first two years, I was on the phone for 12-15 hours at a time… And you know what? The people on the other end of the line were there to help me. They stayed on the phone too. As a family with medical issues, having a no-pre-existing condition penalty was priceless. As a family that benefits from the subsidies (paid for by taxing the elite 0.1%) in the escalating costs of healthcare and pharma, it’s a must. Obama helped me, my Mrs. and my Little and Big. Such a mensch (truly good man), he is! I am forever grateful for the Obama’s.
mr t, now he is doing his very best to gut the ACA. He says it will be less expensive if we open insurance across state lines. Oh, and get this one, he will allow us, we the people of these United States, to contribute more to our health care savings account (HSA). As if we could… Smart, he isn’t.
What we are beginning to see very clearly now is that the myopic, anemic, and uncaring Ryan
couldcare less or tRUMP doesntgiveashitcare plans will (no big a-ha here) do inconceivable harm to millions of Americans. And yes, this new plan, if successfully passed, will also assist the obscenely wealthy folk, the fat cats, the top 0.1 percenters, to line their pockets with more loot. It is estimated that:
Call your representatives. Oh, look, here is the number should you need it, 202-224-3121. Protest peacefully and loudly. Write letters. Attend town hall meetings. Stand up for health care for all of us. Alevai (it should only happen)!
Things may get worse, before they get better. Aider es kumt di nechomeh, ken oisgaien di neshomeh.
We can do this!
Zay gezunt! Be healthy!
So much darkness lately. In the news, in the world, in our lives. I try so very hard to keep my glass half-full. Some days, they are easier than others. Today is one of those days. I approached a gloomy, wet commute this morning, and I tried hard to find some lightness. An old Jewish proverb says:
A little bit of light pushes away a lot of darkness. A kleyn bisl fun likht pushiz avek a platz fun finsternish.
Let me share some of my light with you, in case you need it too.
Gold glitters, even in the mud. Gold sheint fun bloteh.
A friend is not someone who wipes your tears; a friend doesn’t make you cry. A fraynd iz nit emetser vas veyps deyn trern; a fraynd tut nisht makhn ir veynen.
What do Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Walt Disney, Winston Churchill, Coco Channel, Henry Ford, Roald Dahl, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Ezra Pound, T. S. Eliot and Charles Lindbergh all have in common with mr t? All are anti-Semites. They all have / had a deep, dark and outspoken hatred of Jews.
Hating Jewish people is not a new phenomenon, I know this well. As a Jewish person, I am so grossly disturbed by this, along with the ongoing currents of bigotry and racism towards Blacks, Muslims, Mexicans, Women, and the LGBTQ community. It’s hard to comprehend and even harder to explain to the littles.
In the less than 2 months since the inauguration of mr t, let me list some news for you:
Can we all band together now and agree that what is happening in the US right now is not normal?
When asked about all of these recent attacks, mr t replied, “Sometimes it’s the reverse, to make people—or to make others—look bad.” He implied that the Jews are actually doing this to make him look bad. Later that same day, one of his advisers stated,
with his outside voice, that the culprits were democrats, all just trying to make him (mr t) look bad.” mr t, he calls this ‘false flags.’
Once, an evil man named Adolf Hitler used propaganda, hate, and divisiveness to exterminate six million of my people, our people who lived and loved on this planet. After that awful time in our world history played out, we all promised, Never Again.
I see a crackdown on immigration. The building of walls. A Muslim ban. I think my friends, ‘Never Again’ is now.
Keynmal mer. Never again.
Less is more.
Less stuff, please…
Spend less, how?
Memories mean more.
Clean out, share. Give.
De-clutter, free the brain.
Start anew. Now. Today.
Happiness is there for the taking.
Not really much more to say.
The sun shines on everyone for free. Di zun shaynt far itekhn umzist.
While I don’t think I’ll be shouting ‘hallelujah’ anytime soon, it’s time. I need to stop brooding over the literal dreadful future state of the union and turn my frown upside down. After all, I’m a kveller (one who bursts with pride and positivity) not a kvetch (complainer). Remember my glass half full look at life? Well, I’m trying hard to conjure that back up since the events of November 8. So here goes… My top five, Nu? I’m lucky to find three things to get my ‘happy’ on, ASAP:
Tsuris tsezegen di harts. Trouble cuts up the heart. Dem bitersten mazel ken men farshtellen mil a shmaichel. The bitterest misfortune can be covered up with a smile.
Zok nit kin vey. Don’t worry about it. Mit mazel ken men alles. With goodness, everything is possible.
A gelechter hert men veiter vi a gevain. Laughter is heard further than weeping. L’Chaim! To life!
Hello all. This is a post for a dear blogger friend. She does not live in the US. She did not get to vote in our election. Yet incredibly, she found herself in tears discussing the outcome. I know that the Mrs. and me spent a great deal of time crying. I think we are grieving and in mourning too. It feels like a death has happened. The death of progress, hope, equality. We are left with misogyny, racism, xenophobia, sexual assault, bullying and hate for religious freedom and the disabled.
Without further ado, please read this brave, real, honest post from my friend in the ether-world, Mac at reflectionsfromme.com .
Women all over, please know that together, we are stronger. We have a voice.
I am not American, and I am first to admit I know very little about American politics. I am not going to pretend I am an expert or that I have followed the campaign closely enough to write a highly educated post. Admittedly I know little about Hilary, I know little about Donald and I have even less knowledge on the other candidates.
What I do know though is I found myself in tears last night. Unexplained tears. I was talking to my mother over the phone and I found myself starting to cry, I was shocked. Somehow this vote left me feeling extremely vulnerable and brought feelings out in me that I was surprised by, feelings I thought I had dealt with many years ago. Yet somehow hearing that Donald Trump was to be America’s President tore open old wounds, and left me feeling violated as a woman, and as a mother.
To say it upsets me is an understatement, I, and I am sure many other women and men are in shock! I feel disgusted, and I feel let down. I am not naive enough to believe that women have equality in this world, far from it. I am blessed to have been born in a country, and a point in time where women where I live have it pretty great. I guess in some way though this is what gave me the false sense of security that a person like Donald Trump could not be seen as a leader. Don’t get me wrong I am not in any way saying Hillary was not voted in because she is a woman and I understand that she is not well liked by many Americans, this post is not about her. It is about how let down I feel as a woman, no scrap that not just as a woman, it is about how let down I feel as a human being that anyone would support a man who can be OK with talking about grabbing a woman by her “pussy”, and how they let him do it to them because he has fame, because he is a “star”! He can talk about trying to “fuck” his words not mine, married women as if it is his right to sleep with anyone he pleases. And apparently he doesn’t wait to start kissing someone he just does it!
Oh and here is another Donald Quote, he tweeted,
“26,000 unreported sexual assaults in the military-only 238 convictions. What did these geniuses expect when they put men & women together?”
I mean what is he saying Here? Because it sure sounds to me like he is saying that of course women should expect to be sexually assaulted if they are part of the military? And what is it saying about Men? As a woman this disgusts me, and if I was man I would be so offended!
This is a man who openly insults women, who has even gone as far to say that if his own daughter wasn’t his daughter that he would be dating her! I mean what father says that????? It is sickening! It is fine to acknowledge your child is attractive, but that you would date them is just a weird statement to make in my opinion.
I am not saying that Hillary Clinton is perfect, and I know that people saw Donald Trump as the better of two bad choices, but I just don’t understand how they can justify that thought? As a mother I want my daughters to be respected, not looked upon as sexual objects, as a mother I want my son to know he deserves respect and that he must also respect women and their right to say no to any unwanted advances. I want both my daughters and my son to see everyone as equal and know everyone deserves to be treated with respect regardless of their gender, financial status, colour of their skin, or sexual preferences.
Like I said I am not an American and I don’t live there so who am I to judge anyone who voted for Trump? I know you had your reasons, I know that many Americans are scared and live in fear especially after September Eleven. But still, I just can’t understand voting in Trump. I feel so confused. I don’t feel I could ever vote for someone with such a vulgar opinion of women. I would never want my daughters to think I would vote for a man who speaks about women that way. I would never want my son to look up to the leader of his country as a role model. I feel like voting in Trump is like saying “hey men of the world you can treat women however you want and still lead a great country like America”! “You know what go ahead and insult women, grab them by the pussy, kiss them without permission and you will be rewarded with the presidency”! Is this a joke????
Maybe I am being too sensitive? Because clearly the majority of voters didn’t see it that way. They excused his behaviour, or as a close friend of mine who is an American citizen said that she voted for Trump “despite his many character flaws” because he offers something “different” which she and many others believe America needs. I understand that, but still I struggle to excuse or ignore his character flaws. I can’t justify his character flaws. I know my friend and she has the most beautiful heart, she wouldn’t be my friend otherwise. She is very intelligent and works very high up in the Nursing Industry, but still I feel let down by her. Very few people know this about me, but I was raped and beaten on a regular basis by a boyfriend when I was 19 – 20. Me saying NO made no difference! Me screaming and fighting meant nothing to him. I lived in fear daily, and it was a dangerous situation whether I stayed or left. I left, but it didn’t stop, I was stalked and attacked for a long time after. I have now been safe for 14 years. Although something like that never really leaves you, hence why I use a pseudonym for my blog (something I only revealed a little while ago). Like I said hardly anyone knows, but my friend knows and it blows my mind that she can vote for a man who seems to think sexual attacks on women is expected! I am not mad at her, I am not mad at Americans, I just feel sad. I thought we had come further than that. What scares me is that Americans and many people around the world think he is the only choice. It makes me feel like we are all running scared, that Americans are so in fear of where their country is headed that the feel the only choice is to vote for Trump.
I hope he helps America, I hope that he does amazing things and heals the country. I hope he is the best leader we have seen so far! I truly do! I also hope that he realises upon reflection that he has treated women badly, that he has made men look bad, and woman look weak, and I hope he apologises for his disgusting behaviour. I hope he can become a positive role model, that he can lift men and women up and stop putting them down. Is that possible I don’t know? I honestly am not sure a man like him can ever see himself as wrong. But I hope I am wrong about that!
This man sickens me, but more than that it just breaks my heart that amazing strong women, intelligent people have somehow excused his behaviour, that they believed it was justified to vote for a man who has no moral compass. I am left baffled. We need leaders who stand up for equality, who want to heal our world, is Trump that man? Is Trump the man I would want my children seeing as a role model, someone to set your morality standards upon? NO. I could not vote for him and look my children in the eye and say “Mummy is proud of her vote”.
Last night my daughter who is 12, asked me right before she went to sleep, “Mummy why are women not treated the same as men?” I knew this was an important question. I knew my answer would set a standard for her, yet I didn’t know how to answer. I hadn’t discussed the election with her, but she had heard things at school. It is a topic I really need to talk to her about, but it was late and I needed to really think. I told her we would sit down and have a big chat about it, but in the meantime I told her that
“Women are strong, we are intelligent and amazing, and that we are equal to any and every man.”
I’m no quantum physicist maven (expert) by any means. I’m just a Yiddisher momma trying to put some pieces together to better understand this thing called time. Does it always go forward? Does it really flow? My coffee is getting more and more chilled as I type and I like it piping hot, especially in the quiet of the morning, when the Mrs. and the kinder lay keppe a schluffy (are still asleep, heads on pillows). If I could turn back time maybe my cuppa would be hotter, or better yet, alevai (it should come to pass; it should only happen), maybe events would be different.
Nit af alleh mol shlecht, un nit af alleh mol gut. Things can’t be bad all the time, nor good all the time.
What am I trying to get at here? I’m stretching to find meaning in the meshuggeneh (crazy) world we are living in. Remember that commercial, “Time to make the donuts…” with the perpetually exhausted donut maker readying for the early morning rush at Dunkin Donuts? It’s always time to make the donuts… and I’m looking for my epiphany. I started thinking of song lyrics (can you name the artists/songs below?), after all Dylan just one a Nobel in literature. Poets, they have answers.
Let me forget about today until tomorrow…
Get it right the first time, that’s the main thing
Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking into the future
Does anybody really know what time it is
If I could save time in a bottle
Time after time
The first time ever I saw your face
Let’s do the time warp
I had the time of my life
This is the time to remember ‘cause it will not last forever
A time to be born, a time to die
It’s closing time
My Big, she is learning about time in school. Taking all those pieces of perspective, theory and momentum and understanding the very things I am struggling with today. It will no longer be, “How many sleeps until we see Audrey and Steve?” I still don’t know if time is an illusion, or if our perceptions, my perceptions are simply flawed.
Some lifetimes are minutes
It was the best of times
Some minutes are eternities
It was the worst of times
The kinder (children), they grow up so fast
This is no cliché
Slow it down
Speed it up
Oy a brokh (Hard times)
The first half of the gas tank goes slowly
WTF then you are on E
It’s faster than the speed of light
It grinds to a halt
It’s time for a change
Nothing stays the same
Everything stays the same
Past, present, future
Oh, there’s always time
There’s never a good time
Time heals all wounds
What to do about my time conundrum? I will try very hard to…
Live in the present, using time wisely
Choose happiness, smiles and nachas (pleasure and joy)
Put the damned phone down and take in new adventures and experiences
Be in nature, making memories, creating more firsts
Love myself, because who gives a flying f*ck cares what people think
Read, explore, learn, and give
Walk in others shoes and be a gutte neshumah (good soul)
Inject novelty and spontaneity
Grab the ones I love and love them well
Live out loud
Vos lenger a blinder lebt, alts mer zet er. The longer a blind man lives, the more he sees.
Anyone have time to spare some insights?
Gay gezinteh hait. (Go in good health)
shhhhhh. Therapy in Session. Help me understand this?
Last week, I took a walk during lunch and found Truffula Trees! It was delightful and I felt giddy. This week, already marred with the pain and loss of Harambe, don’t you know I find a small dog in a hot vehicle parking lot? A paid parking lot, so this was deliberate and could last for hours! A shonda (shame) on so many counts. Who does this? Why?
I looked in, knocked on the doors and windows, to see if
idiot humans anyone was with the soon to be poached pooch. The doors and windows were sealed shut. It was about 84 degrees in the shade yesterday. Furry little guy looked to weigh about 15 lbs, tops, as it sat in its dog bed (evidence of a perpetually bad habit?), panting in the passenger seat of a small mobile home, from California no less.
Like any good dog loving human, I chased after a police car as it drove down the street. You wanna know why? A dog left in a hot car cooks a slow and ugly death.
Did you know, that even on a semi-cool day, say around 70F, the temperature in a vehicle could be as much as 40 degrees higher than outside?
The police were able to track down this nogudnik (less than moral and ethical character). He was in a local museum in the area. IN A MUSEUM! While Fido was frying like an egg, this yutz (jerk) was in a museum!
I couldn’t stay to watch this person(s), who left Rover without a care, to broaden his/her horizons at the historical, Eastern State Penitentiary (a fitting locale, this prison, for this chutzpenik (
asshole a person with audacity and nerve) who could to do something so wrongful to human’s best friend. He/they should have to go to the big house, the joint, lockup.
I was going to stay, to gib a kick (get a load of) the schmuck(s) return from the ‘prison’ to meet the officers at the rolling home holding this canine captive, but I was too farklempt (overwrought with sadness and anger) to look at his/her punim (face).
I thanked the officers who helped to save this haggard and heated little guy. A mitzvah (good deed).
In dog we trust, at least I do…
A bei gesunt (We should live and be well).
A prompt that has been floating around the blogosphere this week really left me pensive. Thanks to Laura at The View from My Window and Gary from Dream Big, Dream Often for allowing me to stumble upon it, and, well, brood! Here it is:
If you could change one thing about the world in which we live, what would it be?
I would empower all people, every single one of us that inhabit the globe, to be equipped with empathy.
What a wonderful world we could be if we were all equipped with the capacity to comprehend and hold compassion for the thoughts, feeling, and opinions of others. If we mirrored the eyes and hearts of others in ourselves, envision the endless possibilities for our planet? We could really walk a mile or spend a day in one another’s shoes, and get it – really get it. If we held the depth of honor, respect, and benevolence in our hearts and minds for our fellow beings, how then would we treat each other?
The Buddha said, “See yourself in others, then who can you hurt? What harm can you do?”
If we had more empathy, would we:
What if we didn’t jump to do something, and just stood there.
Felt first. Listened. Heard.
Were open to other points of view with respect.
Understood the pain and suffering of others; understood the joy through our own lens, our imagination.
Then, and only then, reacted.
I think we need some more empathy — for each other, for the kinder (children). What a mitzvah (good and caring deed, act of kindness) this would be for us all.
Nu? What do you think?
Yes, I’m ranting. Why have we lowered the bar on civility?
Does it really matter where one pees? This Yiddisher momma will tell you that in the many times nature has called when I have been out and about, and the line at W went around the corner, I walked into the empty M without causing an international threat to gender. And haven’t all Euro-pee-ans been sharing a WC without worry for, well, ever?
And should whether one pees standing up or sitting down really dictate the gender pay gap?
If November 8th declares a victory for Hillary, will she only receive $316,000 per year / $0.79 per dollar of all her male predecessors?
Why do so many people care only for the unborn child while in utero, and not give a flying fu, well hoot, once the kid has left its amniotic apartment?
Why so much racism, hate, injustice and senseless violence?
How is Monsanto allowed to devastate our food system and spoon feed us garbage and chemicals? Don’t they deserve a squirt or two of RoundUp?
Fracking is the new F-word in the world of fossil fuels, foreign oil, future and further damage to water, health, our environment, and the planet. Pope, can you pipe in here please?
Climate change is real. Even the Pope, head macher (big deal, boss man) of the Catholic Church, says human beings are the cause of this major catastrophe. Why can’t the ‘collective we,’ countries and corporations, that share this planet all own that progress and evolution does not always make for a revolution.
With the bar so low, can we ever raise it again? How long will it take? I worry about all of our kinder (children) growing up in a world so careless, unkind, racist, bigoted and focused on the wrong green.
Oy vey doesn’t even begin to cover this shpilkas (intestinal terror!) folks.
Please, I am open to suggestions. Wallet activism and voting alone won’t change where we are headed.
We need a mindset shift, Yes? Any ideas? I’m askin’ from my heart.
Shhhhh. feeling extremely out of control… Vampires bites! Week 14
Is it just me? Or are you worried about the Zika virus? Forget the election and the fate of our country. This little bugger might just trump Trump, in the world of threats? According to health officials at the CDC, these newly armed and mighty mosquitos are like teeny, tiny-terrorists, swarming our way, and outfitted in the latest ISIS style death-vests, ready to attack with a bite, leaving behind a trail of neurologic cooties. Can’t go outside because they can form and reproduce in a drop of water. Can’t stay inside, because unlike other mosquito members, they like it indoors.
At first, level red alerts were only for those with child and trying for ‘with child’ status, due to the link to abysmal birth defects. As if that wasn’t bad enough! Now, ‘they’ say, all of us are in danger. Fevers, rashes, joint pain, fatigue and um, some rare autoimmune and neurological disorders that could attack our brains and spinal chords.
And, as warmer weather is on the way, vacations begin and people from Zika prone countries will cross-pollinate. We now know, the vampire bite is no longer the only way to spread said sickness. Actually shtupping (having sex with an infected male) can do it too. Lucky for this two-momma household, we at least have lesbianism going for us. Oy vey!
So, I headed over to the CDC web site and take a look-see under PREVENTION. Mark my words, this is what it said: No vaccine exists. Prevent Zika by avoiding mosquito bites. Genius!
I don’t know about you, but the Mrs., Little, Big and me are like mosquito magnets. The freckles on our skin must say, “All you can Eat,” in mosquito. We use the stuff that costs and arm and a leg from WF to protect from bug bites. No way my shana madelahs (little girls) are going to get slathered in DEET. Even the EPA, the bastion of protection, says that this stuff is so poisonous, if you do use it, wash it off immediately when you come inside, don’t breathe around it (how does this work, when you shmear it on like cream cheese on a bagel?), and don’t spray directly on your face. These machers (big shots) also suggest, wait for it, staying indoors from dawn to dusk. This, they earn salaries for?
I’m no doctor (a Yiddisher Momma, yes, and I watched a lot of House), but DEET kills things. Probably a lot more things than just vampire mosquitos!
Well that’s it for my kvetching (complaining). What on earth are you going to do about this mosquito issue with your families?
Shhhhhh. She’s in therapy again. Help her.
Today at lunch I walked around and could not believe the dreck (crap, trash) I found
Just a little jaunt to breathe fresh air; feel the sun on my back and the wind in my hair
For spring had landed in Philadelphia – I wanted to stroll; feel a bit healthia’
The neighborhood, a very desirable place, had so much trash, it was a disgrace
I won’t belabor or beat this dead horse; rather let me show you as a matter of course:
Such a mess, this is tantamount to; people, I gotta’ ask? Who raised you?
Please all you folks who live out there, teach der kinder (the kids) well, make them aware.
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Be very, very quiet. Patient in therapy session…sorry I’m late!
It’s week 7 therapists…how about we get a breakthrough?
It’s been a strange week. I’ve been late a lot, and I despise lateness. Let me premise that with the fact that I am never late. I arrive everywhere chronically early and answer emails, do puzzles, write, play with photos, etc. I was late for a doctor’s appointment. I was late for work. I am late for my Friday rant, as made obvious by the fact that today is Saturday and here I am, kvetching (ranting) in tardiness. Some of this is due to incredibly bad traffic and construction. Some of this is due to little bits of frozen precipitation that totally makes every Philly driver a texting, talking, driving fool. Some of this is because it’s been an incredibly physically hard week for me. Whether its barometric pressure, stress, lack of sleep, anxiety, posture, or crap for luck, I have a tremendous amount of neck pain. But, at the end of the day, I own it. I am late and I am sorry.
Worry, shmorry. I am hoping, to quote Little, ‘that for real life’ we are actually living inside a TV reality show. I fear that we are just looking like one to the rest of the world. “Cue the sun!” I feel truly embarrassed to be an American. The GOP is really making mockery of us so easy to all who watch, read, and see—with the exception of the swelling, puffed-up outpouring of people who believe in these cartoon nudniks (annoying, pain in the tuchas (arse) kind of folk) and buffoons, and late night comedians who are thankful. Alevai (may it all come to pass).
“It’s nine p.m.! Let’s tune in to the United States.”
“Oh how I love that show. It’s just hysterical. Ideocracy in action.”
“Who are the geniuses that dreamt up this ratings smash?”
“What great writing! Where did they find these characters?”
“Is this that the new show by the Coen brothers?”
During the GOP debate, did they really talk about the size of Drumpf’s schlong (penis)? Are we concerned with his peckel (package)? Are there no adults left in the room? And Mitt, why on earth did you pop up with your talking head now? Are the American people supposed to believe and trust in what you say? The guy who through his hat in the ring and LOST wants you to think about how valuable his opinion is so please, vote for anyone but the large-handed, badly quaffed guy that rhymes with RUMP? How did you get this cameo role? You had your 15 minutes…
Folks, think about it. Do you really want any one of these schlemeils (remaining fab four) to take on Lil’ Kim in North Korea? Putin? Possibly choose the next robed player to sit with the Supremes, the role with a lifetime sentence. There’s not a mensch (good guy) among them.
“That one guy wants to build a wall to keep out all the Mexicans”
“Don’t forget about banning all Muslims from entering the country.”
“He’s openly racist! Awesome”
“What brand of spray tan do you think he uses? He always looks so healthy.”
“Do you think in next weeks episode, he’ll free Chris Christie?”
This isn’t just a phase. This isn’t a reality show—it’s a real, live circus that we all have tickets to gain entry. My seats are quite close to the elephant dung.
I’m supposed to make the world a better place for my kinder (children), Little and Big. I will vote, continue to opine, and do what I can for democracy and democrats. After all, I’m a lefty, liberal, jewish lesbian… What will you do? Oi gevalt (heaven forbid) what could happen…
Symptoms: Anxiety. Fear. Sleeplessness. Sever pain. Incredible desire to be an expat. Won’t you help me therapists?
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