…on many sides

Charlottesville. Trying to make sense out of a living nightmare is not possible. I am for free speech and civil disobedience, and that has not happened. mrt has been fanning the flames of racism, hate, and evil since his campaign that led to his election began. He has openly uncovered what lay hidden, dormant. He has ripened the corrupt causes of the neo-Nazi’s, the alt-right, the white supremacists, the Ku-Klux-Klan, and the racists who see “Make America Great Again” as a call to action for their heinous behaviors. They backed him, paid him, elected him, celebrated with him and see him as their leader. And mrt, he has mainstreamed these groups to normalcy; normal enough to come outside by daylight. To remove the sheets and show their faces. To act on their mission.

The “Unite the Right” rally, filled with racist, ethnic, misogynistic and anti-Semitic slurs,  turned deadly when a known Nazi-sympathizer from Ohio drove his Dodge Challenger, at a high-speed, into a crowd of people gathering to protest the rally. He killed Heather Heyer and injured close to twenty others. Heather, 32 years old, died standing up for what she believed in — fairness and equal treatment for all. She died opposing those that hold hate in their hearts. Additionally, two Virginia state troopers died in a helicopter crash while on duty. Three lives lost, and mrt stood in his bunker.

mrt, our tweeter-in-chief, said in his first statement, that he condemned hatred and violence “on many sides, on many sides.” ON MANY SIDES? ON MANY SIDESWTF

Many sides? I saw two sides. The white supremacy, in their full militant nationalistic glory, and the oppositionists, who came with peace and equality, to counter the hate.

Weak. Very weak mrt. You are a spineless excuse for a leader. You made no mention of your friends who gathered in violence, and they heard that loud and clear. They cheered you on. They know you support them. You have never been quiet to call out your enemies by name. They must be your friends. Two days later, after an immense public outcry, you were forced into a more acceptable media message, only after mentioning how well the stock market is doing. Your responses sicken me, as much as the despicable events of the weekend.

I applaud leaders like German Chancellor Angela Merkel, who teaches us all how we can never go back. She owns the shame of the Nazi Holocaust and apologized some 60 years later, after WW II. Today, in Germany, every child is taught of the atrocities that their native land carried out during Holocaust. Every student visits a concentration camp. They learn what was in their history and they work hard so that such vile behavior will never repeat.

mrt keeps his alt-right friends, Bannon, Gorka, Miller, close to the chest, in his inner circle. It shows.

I am a human being. I am Jewish. I am a woman. I am a Lesbian. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am saddened but remain positive that the turning point that KKK leader David Duke speaks of, has a very different outcome. I will continue to stand up strong, united against hate, in order to make this world a better place for my kinder (children).

mrt, you are #notmypresident. #yesyouareracist #neveragain

     

      

      

    

 

Waking Up is Hard, With You

I don’t know about you, but this US-based Yiddishah momma isn’t sleeping so hot. The chaos of the world, the tweeter-in-chief, the backward direction of history, and the fears of a horrid times repeating all leave me with angst, anxiety and some pretty hefty carry-on baggage under the eyes these days. Nightmares, daymares, heart palpitations… oy vey iz mir.

a parody on Neil Sedaka’s lyrics, “Breaking up is Hard to Do”

we stupid huge win win
we stupid huge win win
Drumpf schlumpy trump dump trump
Drumpf schlumpy trump dump trump
Waking up is hard, with you
Don’t take my rights away from me
You’re breaking laws and changing history
Jamming justice, we know it’s true
Waking up is hard, with you
Looking back, phone alerts were much less scary
With just one tweet, you spooked the military
It’s Mueller time, the grand review
Waking up is hard, with you
They say that waking up is hard, with you
Now I know
I know we’re all screwed
Imploding health care and refugee bans
Are all of your decisions based on the teeny-tiny size of your hands?
I beg of you, stop the racist crap
Vlad, just share with us the wire tap
Global warming, it’s making me blue
Waking up is hard, with you
They say that waking up is hard, with you
Now I know
I know we are screwed
‘Murica should not be run by a business man
Are all of your decisions based on the teeny-tiny size of your hands?
we stupid huge win win
we stupid huge win win
Drumpf schlumpy trump dump trump
Drumpf schlumpy trump dump trump
Waking up is hard, with you
I don’t understand what is happening in our world. Ikh ton nit farshteyn voz iz gesheenish in aundzer velt.
Okay, if you would like to hear the real version of this ‘borscht belt’ singer and writer, click below, courtesy of our friends at YouTube:

      

     

      

My faith in humanity is restored!

I came home from work, and the pain in my neck was excruciating. On a scale of 1 – 10, it was a 46 (that should only be my age). Ugh! My shana maidelehs (sweet little girls) were so excited to see me; Gatsby, my furry boychik, was jumping and barking at my feet.  My Mrs., she could see the pain in my eyes and she gently kissed me on the check. Heroes welcome for certain.

Apparently, a note was left at the front door entrance to our apartment building to my attention. Big, she was very excited to tell me all about it. Someone found something of mine in the parking lot… call a phone number and they will give it to me. I had no idea what that could be and I had no intention of finding out immediately due to my ‘pain in the neck‘ neck pain. My family, they went out to a birthday party for Little’s friend — I wanted to go, but without full body cooperation, I listened to the siren song of the sofa calling my name. Gatsby and I snuggled in tightly, arranging my head just so, and I asked ‘Alexa’ to play Rachel Maddow as I closed my eyes.

A little bit later, I heard a ping on my phone, so I took a look-see. I noticed a few notes in my Facebook messenger. Delving a little deeper, there was yet another note for me from a person I did not know. It was brilliant! Take a look at this:

Someone found my wallet, and wanted to return it to me! All of the sudden, I remembered Big’s excitement and put 2+2 together… I lost my wallet.

Wait, I lost my wallet? I never lose my wallet? Nu? When did this happen? Where? How? Obviously in the parking lot…  

My penchant for the penny-wise is so strong, I only reach cash/card if I really have to make a purchase. I met a friend for coffee today, but that’s a luxury, so no wallet. I didn’t even know I lost it!  This could have easily been disastrous! 

I dialed up my very kind neighbor right away. She was so sweet and caring. She said she was eagerly waiting to hear from me and she hoped I wasn’t going crazy looking for this missing wallet… Wait, I lost my wallet? I never lose my wallet? She was at work, but her hubby was home and would be happy to deliver my missing property. I insisted that I go to him – It was the least I could do! Gatsby and I ventured across the parking lot. As we made our way, it dawned on me that the previous day, me and this boychik, we walked to the local coop for some dog food and treats. My wallet must have fallen out of my pocket on the way home… I lost my wallet?

I pressed D9 and the most delightful man answered, in a British accent too! He buzzed me in the doorway and came straight away, with my red wallet in hand. As he handed it to me, he reached out his hand and said, “My name is Jim.” I happily took his hand in mine and smiled, gushing gratitude! He bent down and played with Gatsby. These two people who found my wallet, Kristy, and Jim, they are mensches (good people filled with honesty and integrity). And, they like my Gatsby. Dog people are good people! ❤

I love a kind human!

Today, in a world filled with chaos, hate, divisiveness, terror… I experienced the ultimate in human kindness. I saw proof that people, all people, can choose kindness.

A little bit of light pushes away a lot of darkness. A kleyn bissel fun likht pushiz a vek a plats fun finsternish. 

Kristy and Jim, thank you for my light.

I lost my wallet… My Mrs., Liz, Biz, Nona — it’s official. I’m a true part of this family! Expect a lost/stolen iPhone next, and, wait, where did my keys go? Oy vey. (OMG.)

Shalom, Ahava, and Simcha. Peace, Love, and Joy. May you all find some kindness today and every day!

      

     

      

A Midsummer Day and Night’s Performance

Big and her buds, preparing before the show.

This past weekend, my kinder (children) participated in our annual tradition, the Dance Recital. All year long, my shana maidelehs (sweet girls) have been studying ballet, and Big has added jazz to her repertoire. My Mrs., she too was central to the studies, as the chief shlepper (hauler, dragger) and nosherie (snack provider) to our mini prima’s.

If you can ever imagine me, at my very happiest space, it’s watching my kinder do what they love, and they do love to dance, in full regalia on stage. Kvelling (beaming with pride) and grinning until my punim (face) hurts, I am. It’s the tahkeh (absolute, certain) truth.

This year, the Wissahickon Dance Academy presented Shakespeare’s, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The choreography was so beautiful. The talent, remarkable. They really put on an awesome production. After, all of the other forms of dance performed. Jazz, hip-hop, tap, modern — it was naches (the satisfaction gained from life’s gifts) for everyone in the audience.

Last night, I asked my kinder about the show and what A Midsummer Night’s Dream was about. Here is what they said:

Little: It’s about a donkey and an umm, queen and a king. And what was Z in the second show? Oh yeah, the queen’s daughter. And a man who turns into a donkey and fairies and umm, and an umm, wood sprites. ‘Cause that’s what (Big) was, a wood sprite. I liked when the donkey, who was really Jakiel, eats the grass and when he was really funny with the audience.

Big: So there’s a Queen, Titania, and she has a husband and they get in a big fight. Puck comes and, the husband, he asked Puck if he can borrow these magic flowers that if you sprinkle them on someone, the first person they see, they will fall in love with. You have to do it to people only while they are asleep. And so, he umm, he did it on Titania — sprinkled the flower stuff. And then, these actors come out, and Puck grabs one of them and gives him a donkey head. He (the Donkey) scares all the actors away. And then, he accidentally trips over Titania. She wakes up and falls in love with the donkey because of the flower magic. She was supposed to fall in love with her husband, but they had a big fight about their daughter. Then, I know! They both (Titania and the Donkey) go to sleep and then the husband has the magic flower and he sprinkles it on Titania and she wakes up and falls madly in love with him again. Puck comes on and takes the donkey head away, and that is all I know. Ohhh, and the whole thing, it was the Donkey-headed guy’s dream! That’s why he scratched his head at the end.

I asked them, what was the best part of being in the recital?

Big: I just love dancing. I liked the flowers on my costume, and I liked how the bottom was like a tutu, and I liked the wings.

Little:  I really like twirling, twirling a lot.

The littles of the elementary ballet! Too cute, these kinder!

In Act II, my Little, she danced with her elementary ballet class to Once Upon a Dream from Sleeping Beauty. Big, she was an orphan in Annie, dancing with her class in jazz 1 to, Hard Knock Life

Big: I loved it. It was fun because I love Annie, I love that song, it is fun to pretend to be orphans and that dance is just fun.

Little: My dance was from sleeping beauty. I don’t know what it was about, but I got to twirl. I liked the roses on my costume and twirling. I liked when (Big) danced with the bucket and slammed it on the floor too.

All in all, I was beaming. And for two shows, a couple of hours each, I actually forgot about the mishegas (craziness) that is happening in our world. Such a simcheh (joyous occasion) I wish for all of you!

Thank you for letting me go on about my kinder today.

       

      

      

      

 

No harm, no fowl

“My work here is never done…”

Spring is here and it’s beautiful dog walking weather. I love being outside with the family, proudly walking our crazy, loud, barking, pulling, misbehaved, and foraging boychik (little boy) and grabbing some extra vitamin D. Something I’ve noticed since Gatsby arrived to rescue our family, we constantly come across what seems to me, to be a gratuitous amount of chicken bones. Legs, wings, breasts, thighs… you name it and Gatsby will find them. One can only begin to understand my love for this furry family member, as I extract his foul, fowl finds from deep within the clenches of his canines. Disgusterous, as the BFG would say.

I would not be surprised at all, to find that our building and the surrounding homes, were built atop what was once, some sort of chicken cemetery. If you just go by the gross numbers of very gross bones per walk, per day — something just doesn’t add up. Storms, wind, digging, and these bones surface.  It’s haunting in a ‘Carol Ann, don’t go near the light’ kind of way. Often we, and by we, I mean Gatsby, finds grilled chicken breasts. There is often an assortment of accompanying sauces. And dare I say it, side dishes. WTF? Has Colonel Sanders gone AWOL? Has Frank Perdue gone cuckoo?

What if there is a chicken serial killer on the loose? And my Gatsby, with a nose for a nice nosh (little something to snack on), can’t help but uncover truth and justice for all. Law and Order: Poultry, live, right here in my neighborhood. The Capon Capers. Benson and Stabler, I need you here at Johnson and Greene, and bring that trained squad of detectives that focus primarily on putrid poultry misconduct.

Keeping my glass half-full, it is possible that we are constantly on the same frigging, filthy path as some unfortunate young travelers, who leave behind banty, barnyard fowl bones and scraps to find their way back home, like Hansel and Gretel. My Gatsby, sweet little man, is probably just doing his best sleuthing in an effort to help these lost kinder (children)?

“I smell chicken…”

It is possible that while wearing my pollyanna, rose-tinted sunglasses, someone is leaving behind the cock-a-doodle-doo trail until we find the magic wishbone? Gatsby’s mania for mystery may be a search the answers to our dreams? My lanky, long-legged, detective dog, is just trying his best to look out for our family. What a good boy!

You see, in my heart of hearts, I don’t want to believe that my neighborhood has gone afoul in dreck (trash, litter). Thankfully, after a year now, I can sternly let out a geshrei (scream) for Gatsby, “Drop it!” and he does. So does everyone else around me… maybe that’s why there are so many bones? Oy vey! (OMG!)

And this Yiddish Proverb, words to live by, if you are Gatsby:

A chicken dinner is best shared by two people. Me and the chicken. A hindl mitog iz bester sherd durkh tsvey mentshn. Mir aun di hindl.

What a good boy!

     

      

     

      

 

Stick-to-it-iveness

Doggedness as defined Gatsby. And like I always say, my glass is half full. Nu?

Sometimes, you just have to do the work, to get what you want.  mal ir nor hobn tsu ton di arbet tsu bakumen vos ir viln.

My Gatsby, this boychik (little man) can persevere. You know that with the flick of a tongue, that pea was his. He worked hard for it. He did not mind the struggle. He was tenacious and he succeeded.

May we all have such a work ethic, as our boy Gatsby!

I’ve got it. Do you? Tell me!

 

Linky’s:

      

      

      

 

The Problem with Pee-Gate

No matter who you are, or how you identify, please don't leave the next person high and dry.
No matter who you are, or how you identify, please don’t leave the next person high and dry.

No matter who you are, or how you identify, please don’t leave the next person high and dry.

Let the record show that I have not been paid to write this piece, although truth is, that would be both helpful and nice. I am not a political reporter or a journalist. I am, however, one very outraged Yiddisheh momma who cannot just sit idly by while mr t and his alt-right, uber-conservative (pun intended) regime of discriminating desperado’s, steal away the basic rights and needs of transgendered students in this country, who’s only crime is that they want to pee safely. Yes, this is about peeing. Whether you sit, stand, hover-over, wipe or shake it off, we are in the midst of Pee-Gate. Who knew such tsuris (troubles) would plague us…

Pee-Gate is about ignorance fear, stupidity lack of knowledge, the lawlessness inequity of separate but not equal, bigotry, closed-mindedness, insecurity and what can very easily become an unnecessary increase in violence against, and suicide rates amongst, the LGBTQ community.

My President Obama, he banished the bathroom backlash by bestowing Title IX in the way it was created as law:

Title IX is a landmark federal civil right that prohibits sex discrimination in education. Title IX is not just about sports; it is a prohibition against sex-based discrimination in education. It addresses discrimination against pregnant and parenting students and women in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and math) programs. It also addresses sexual harassment, gender-based discrimination, and sexual violence. Sexual violence includes attempted or completed rape or sexual assault, as well as sexual harassment, stalking, voyeurism, exhibitionism, verbal or physical sexuality-based threats or abuse, and intimate partner violence.

(this is straight from the website, knowyourix.com)

My Barack, he said, let the transgendered kids use the bathroom of their choice. He didn’t do this because he was a nice guy (he is) or wanted to make trouble (he didn’t). He said this because he knew we already have a Federal Law on the books. Unlike mr t, Barack knows the law and the rights created in the Constitution. C’mon people, Tricky-Dick Nixon made Title IX a law back in 1972! That was 45 years ago, and Nixon!

Now for the outrage. This divisive and discriminating act of hatred and bullying towards the transgendered community in our educational system is based on the idiocracy that all transgendered youth (and grown ups too) in our country are perverse and have deviant motives when they need to pass water. This very small-minded thinking from the highest office in the land only boosts bullying and hatred to the most malevolent and malignant levels. mr t’s reversal is his first real attempt to hold true, his campaign claims against the entire LGBTQ community. It is an outright attack and I will not stand by and watch.

Milania, if you are truly standing tall against bullying as first Lady, then please leave your golden penthouse now and get the hell up and shout! Your husband is the biggest, baddest, bully in the bunch. Step down from your trophy wife status and stop him. You are a mom for christ sake. How can you let him attack our nation’s children this way? Put aside his misogynistic treatment of both you and Ivanka, the daughter-wife-in-chief, and start championing your cause. The kinder (children) need you.

The school that my Big and Little attend have non-marked bathrooms because you know what, we all gotta go. There are no issues as diverse students, teachers, staff, and caregivers all pee proudly and safely.

Please, join the resistance against this very dangerous policy by mr t. Join with positivity and hope as we demonstrate to the world leaders that our children’s lives are on the line. Protest peacefully, make calls, write letters, sign petitions, and send emails. You don’t mess with our kinder (children), mr t. 

We are supposed to leave the world a better place than when we entered it. mr t, I say to you:

A fool goes twice where a sensible person doesn’t even go once. A nar geyt tsvey mol dort vu a kliger geyt nit keyn eyntsik mol. 

In your case, many more times than twice. Oy vey!

L’Chiam! To Life!

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