Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Happy birthday dear friend, for the 30th time!

Thirty years ago this week, I entered as a freshman at the American University. Following yet another summer as a camp counselor, I hopped in the car with mom and dad to drive from Boston to DC. I don’t remember much about the trip, except we stopped in Brooklyn to visit my grandmother who was in the hospital (and then dad showed me the location of the family bakery – building still intact – at Coney Island and O). We made our way to the nation’s capitol, and stayed overnight in nearby suburban Virginia. We spent time with my aunt Enid, visiting her son Tommy who lived and worked locally, and spent an eve celebrating her birthday at a French dinner-burlesque show (only slightly awkward for an eighteen year-old with his parents). Of course most important was finally moving onto campus, finding my way to my room in Letts Hall, the dorm – oops, I mean “residence hall” – that I would call home for my first three years at school.
Mixing and mingling with the other new and returning students, I was introduced to one fellow freshman whose friendship I cannot overemphasize to this day. Scott and I met as (myopic yet) wide-eyed newbies at the introductory meeting led by the RA on our floor. We hit it off right away, and now seem to have accomplished a great majority of life’s deeds together: from intramural soccer and softball and student activities to movie nights with Armand’s Pizza and pining over girls, and yes even successfully navigating our course work – I had a friend and partner through the ups and downs of college life. We’ve shared holidays and family time, both as young adult sons in our families of origin as well as being husbands and fathers ourselves. Scott schlepped to Minnesota for our wedding at the end of one very cold December; I had the privilege of officiating at his wedding another memorable weekend in Erie, PA. We’ve visited and shared, watched (and marveled) as we became parents, and our children continue to grow…
And yes, that week we met, also coincided with Scott’s birthday – which he’ll again celebrate this week. So we celebrate 30 years since first meeting that fateful day at AU – I wish you all the best now and always. Happy birthday Scotty – you’ll always be Senor Smoke.

Friday, August 21, 2015

If I were a bell...

What's your favorite single note in any song?

What? What kind of question is that? It's hard enough to think about favorite single musicians, or songs, or even genres. Favorite single note?

Well, for me, at least at the moment, my favorite single note is the ringing guitar chime at the opening of "The Kids are Alright." It's just so filled with energy, possibility, and the appropriate amount of angst. One resounding blast, followed by the plaintive lyrics...

I don't mind other guys dancing with my girl
That's fine, I know them all pretty well
But I know sometimes I must get out in the light
Better leave her behind with the kids, they're alright
The kids are alright

Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away
And I know if I don't, I'll go out of my mind
Better leave her behind with the kids, they're alright
The kids are alright

I guess just another way to say, well, if I were a bell I'd go ding dong, ding dong ding.



Friday, August 7, 2015

Consuming our fill

Toward the opening of this week’s passage, we find the verse that is customarily held to be the basis for reciting birkat hamazon – the traditional blessing after meals:
For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land with streams and springs and fountains issuing from plain and hill; a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs, and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; a land where you may eat food without stint, where you will lack nothing; a land whose rocks are iron and from whose hills you can mine copper. When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Lord your God for the good land which He has given you (Deuteronomy 8:7-10, JPS translation).
Usually we pay most attention only to the last line – v’achalta v’savata uveyrachta et Adonai elohekha – “When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to the Lord your God…” If this were only to indicate our obligation to recite thanks for our dietary sustenance, our understanding is insufficient; the paragraph refers to ALL the bounty of the Promised Land – natural resources, nourishing foods, precious metals – that is, the entire range of what we need to flourish and succeed. This in mind, we should read the passage as “when you have *consumed* your fill,” as consumption is much broader than eating alone. Consequently, this also broadens our responsibility to express gratitude for what we have. It is not merely following meals that we give thanks; it is for each and every time we “consume,” make use of, that which is provided for us. Imagine – an even greater prompt to utter praise for the things we have and what we do with them.
Soon after, recounting Moses’ need to create a second set of tablets (the Ten Commandments) following the Israelites’ episode with the golden calf, the text goes on:
And now, O Israel, what does the Lord you God demand of you? Only this: to revere the Lord your God, to walk only in His paths, to love Him, and to serve the Lord your god with all your heart and soul, keeping the Lord’s commandments and laws, which I enjoin upon you today, for your good (Deut. 10:12-13).
Only this?!?!? Well, at least this easy listing is meant for our good. Modern commentator Jeffrey Tigay suggests that “’And now’” means ‘Now, then.’ In other words, ‘Your history of rebellion shows that you lack the following qualities, to which you must dedicate yourselves in the future’” (JPS Torah Commentary – Deuteronomy, p. 107).
So how do we begin (or continue) to tackle this “mere” listing of virtues that enable us to overcome our past foibles? The answer is already given in the earlier part of the text: by always cultivating an “attitude of gratitude”, in giving thanks for what we have, our ability to use them for good, and our opportunity to share our advantage with those around us.

And now, it remains our turn.