Bernie Sanders Does it Again

This is a photograph of Bernie Sanders at the Capitol building in Washington DC during the Inauguration of President Biden yesterday. His mittens in particular seem to have captured the interest of folk on social media. NPR suggested that he had won "the Inauguration Day Meme Game". 

And then, one of my colleagues posted a link called "Put Bernie Anywhere" that places this photo in a Google photo of that site.

Greatest Procrastination Device of the Week!

You've got to be careful with the wording of the location, but you can put him pretty much anywhere.

At the Sydney Opera House:

At the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin:

In Pisa:

Also, there's no guarantee that the vista chosen will actually show the object/building/view that you requested. For example, when I entered "Jolly Green Giant statue" (that I visited a gazillion years ago in Blue Earth, MN) I got this:

but there's no view of the big guy that we saw when we drove through Minnesota:

O, and be as specific as you can. When I put "Modena", a city of c. 190k people, with a historic centre full of beautiful architecture, and a nine-hundred-year-old cathedral:

I got this:

Senator Sanders is sitting by the bus stops at the main railway station of Modena. I'm proud that I know this, since I often claim to have become a Modenese, and such knowledge supports that claim!

Anyway, it's a bit of fun connected to the news today. Enjoy. As for me ... PROCRASTINATION, THOU HAST BESTED ME ONCE MORE. I'm off for a nap.

Piglet Retrospective II

 

Today is an auspicious day. In Washington DC leaders are being sworn in, and we can only hope that they will be able to begin the healing process so dearly needed. The last time Piglet was in DC, he demonstrated his desire to be closer to the White House with this selfie, so it seems appropriate to choose it for today's offering. 

Wishing everyone safety and good health, and wishing President Biden and Vice-President Harris strength and courage for the work that lies ahead.

Piglet Retrospective I

In today's English language class we had a discussion regarding the difference between "to cheer" and "to cheer up". A student had bought herself some yellow tulips because it was a grey morning. We then got to dissect the lyrics of "Tulips from Amsterdam", but that's a different post. It occurred to me that somebody somewhere, someone who has not yet encountered the Piglet Series, might be cheered up by some of these old pictures of mine. And thus is born the Piglet Retrospective.

The origin of these photos lies in the gift of Piglet by my youngest sister to her father. He used to travel a lot, and I think she gave him the pig so he would think of her when he was away. He decided to take pictures of Piglet posing wherever their journeys took them. When I became a photographer, and travelled quite a bit also, my father passed Piglet on to me. 

This shot is one of my favourites. I got a High Holyday pulpit in Seattle, and decided to drive there (from Virginia) in order to visit Mount Rushmore and take a Piglet picture. (Reading the Hebrew way ...) President, President, President, President, Pig. Love it!

Happy Martin Luther King Jr Day!

The USA is celebrating a holiday today. Although there are some fears that, with the Presidential Inauguration only two days away, there may be some violent protesting, we can only hope that the memory of Dr Martin Luther King Jr may be an inspiration for work towards healing and civic unity. To this end, I was interested to read on CNN yesterday about the Martin Luther King Day of Service (see here). Americans are encouraged to look at today as an opportunity to engage in volunteer service, rather than binging on Bridgerton.

Meanwhile, here is the annual presentation of the famous photo including my father. This is the more recently discovered version, in which you may see his entire head (+ yarmulke). It is good to have an excuse to share this once again. Hopefully I will continue to make his memory a blessing by developing what he taught us about tolerance and understanding.

On the Way Home

The Wednesday afternoon class that I teach is so terribly afflicted by Covid restrictions - masks on all the time, everyone must stay in their seats, nobody can touch anything touched by someone else, everyone must work individually, etc. After a full day of school these nineteen 12-year-olds are to be commended for not going all Lord of the Flies on me during our 2 hours together, and I am learning what it is possible to teach under such circumstances.

When it's time to go home, the children find a renewed energy and burst out of the doors of the school. I walk home gently, carefully, saving myself for the three flights of stairs at the end of the journey. Today I stopped on the way, by the door of the now defunct Peccati di Gola (Sins of Gluttony) chocolate shop, and watched this cyclist practice the trick of riding along the wall.

The photo is a little out of focus (low light and an iPhone6) but I enjoyed watching, especially that he kept coming back to try again. I have a week to reset myself, and will try again at the school next week!

AJ at Work (1980's style)

A little insomnia once more led to internet wanderings, and just now I chanced upon a brief clip of a football match on the Omniturf at QPR in 1983. Watching R's goals is always cheery, and then imagine my surprise when, as the commentator focuses on a scuffle between our beloved Simon Stainrod and Villa's Peter Withe, I realise that the photographer in front of the elf advertising board is me!

This match was when I got one of my earliest photographers' passes from Ron Phillips, and I think the grainy screenshot above shows the moment I took the picture he printed. I don't have that programme to hand, but found a scan:

This was a bit of afters following some previous scuffles I think. I was quite proud of it at the time. Anyway, the photo has been with me all these years, but it was lovely to see the tv footage of long ago and far away.

Cat Callers

Sara the Cat is an only cat. She was not born without siblings, but once she came to live with us, she rarely saw other humans, let alone other creatures. She has heard the cats next-door through the walls (they might actually be good friends who chat regularly, chi sa?), and smelled them maybe after L came back from looking after them when their flatmates went away. But she is THE only cat, and enjoys it thoroughly.

Today, however, I think was the first time that she met Mocha and Cartesio whisker to whisker. We neighbours were exchanging seasonal conversation on the landing, and Mocha decided to pop her head in our front door, as seen above. After a cautious exchange of sniffing, Mocha then dashed back inside her own home.

Cartesio, however, was not so shy. Sara the Cat had retreated under the bed at the far end of the flat, to recover, I suppose, from the shock of this meeting, and to reflect upon what it all meant. So our marmalade friend swaggered into the living-room, and had a good look round. After inspecting the underneaths of both sofas, he then headed for the bedroom. I heard a sound a bit like crackling gas escaping suddenly from a valve, and ran to see if Sara the Cat was ok. She was fine. Cartesio had vanished.

A few minutes later, L came back from the landing and reported that Cartesio had found his way home. Phew. I guess Sara the Cat was reminding us all of the lockdown, and that now is not the time to make new friends. After all, we are already blessed with her.

Pastor Martin Stöhr z"l

During my end-of-year tidying of files on the desktop, I found this wonderful photo of Pastor Martin Stöhr, Angela Davis & my father. I'm not sure exactly when or where it was taken (or who by) - I'm guessing in the early 1980's, probably in Germany, most likely at an Evangelische Kirchentag. Out of all my parents' friends from their interfaith dialogue in Germany, I think I loved Martin the most. We lost touch a few years ago and, looking at this photo, I wondered if he was still alive. I was sad to find out that he died just a few weeks after my mother. And I remembered a conversation I'd had with my father many years ago, when at a conference where Martin was speaking. "Martin is so kind, and so good, and so smart," I said, "how could he possibly believe in something like Jesus?" My father replied, "did you mean what you said about him? So kind, so good ...?" "Of course!" I responded indignantly. "Well," said my wise father, "if believing in Jesus is part of what makes him into this person that you love, why do you question it?"

I hope I can continue to learn this lesson, going beyond tolerance to acceptance. It's hard to remember, but this photo will help me. I hope that I can bring some of it to 2021, and add to the blessing of Martin's memory.

Desert Island Texts Revisited

 

The princess of procrastination strikes again. During an ambivalent attempt to catch up on some important paperwork, I came across this brief piece written for the column "Desert Island Texts" in the Jewish News back in 2014. Obviously it had to be shared before I could get back to my to-do list. You're welcome.

"Desert Island Texts

Having benched gomel for surviving the stormy waters and making it to the desert island, I would then congratulate the lucky fish that would be wearing my glasses in the future. Since I have inherited my father's dreadful eyesight, the text I desire would have to be one stored in my memory. Since I also appear to have the memory of a Swiss cheese, the text should be short and sweet. What comes to mind immediately is the midrash in which Abraham explains to his father Terah why all the idols in their shop have been smashed. Abraham says that the biggest idol was responsible, and Terah is furious. "Are you making fun of me?" he asks his son, "they cannot do anything, they are just stone and wood!" "Aha!" cries Abraham, "your ears should hear what your mouth is saying!"

Terah was in the idol business, and it was convenient for him to ignore the reality of the situation. His acknowledgement of the inanimate nature of these so-called gods was instinctive, and it was only the shock of Abraham's actions that forced this realisation to the surface. Terah chose not to be conscious of the reality, but the truth was always within him.

So it is for the rest of us. How many false gods do we have that lead us astray, consuming our attention and our energy? How many of us choose to ignore thoughts and feelings that deep down we know are important but may disrupt our comfortable lives? And where will we find the iconoclast who will return us to the heart of the matter?

I choose Abraham. His punchline shocks me each time I hear it. Wherever I am, whatever I do, I carry it with me as a handy mnemonic for those times when I can't see the wood for the idols."

PS and yes that's why I named the blog thusly.

Team Applesauce

Minor health issues meant that our first household attempt at traditional Chanukah latkes had to wait until our digestive abilities had recovered a modicum of strength. That day was today! 

L was also introduced to sour cream for the first time (it is NOT the same as yoghurt), and I made some applesauce. We are now resting on the sofa, thoroughly sated and currently feeling quite proud of ourselves.

As you can see, I am prepared to eat latkes with either topping - the German applesauce of my maternal ancestry and the dairy delight of my father's Polish heritage. If, however, I am forced to choose, then it must be Team Applesauce. Mahlzeit!

The Last Day of Chanukah

When I was young, I asked my father why Chanukah was such a big deal. I'd learned somewhere that the presents were mainly so we wouldn't feel bad about Xmas, which left us with a lot of candles, and fried potato latkes with applesauce. Although we got some chocolate coins from Sunday School, we never played dreidel. I'm not sure why, but most likely because there wasn't a spinning surface available in our flat. The rooms and halls were carpeted, the bathrooms were tiny and the kitchen floor was tiled (which messed up the spin). O, and the dining-table was for dining. And homework.

Along with the historical and religious origins of the festival, my lovely father explained to me that most religions, and a lot of pre-religious cultures, had rituals at this time of year in the northern hemisphere. People were sad and scared because it was dark. They wanted the sun to come back, and tried to encourage this by lighting lights. I thought it sounded a bit primitive. He pointed out that it works. Every year.

Tonight we lit the last of the lights for this year. 2020 is almost done (although, of course, 5781 isn't even half-way yet), and there has been a lot of darkness all over the world during this period. We are scared, and sad, and very very tired. We hope the sun will return. Whether it reappears in the sky or not, each of us still has a Divine spark within, and surely that can and must be a source of light for ourselves and each other, every day we walk through this world.

Chag urim sameach - Happy Festival of Lights.

 

Farewell Dame Barbara

The news that Dame Barbara Windsor has died has really touched me. She was neither relative nor friend, I was just a fan. Unusually, I did actually meet her once. I was called in at the last moment to substitute for a shiva service in North London, for somebody I'd never met. After the service there was a small reception, and although everyone there now knew who I was, I didn't know a soul. And then I recognised her over by the sandwiches. Channelling my late father (who would sail right up to just anyone and introduce himself), I decided to go and say hello. I have always been a fan of the Carry On films (I liked her best in Carry on Spying, her first one I think), but my opening line, in the worst geeky fangirl way, was something like, "My mother would never forgive me if I didn't come and say hello, she is such an Eastenders fan!" Dame Barbara accepted this graciously and we ended up having a really interesting conversation about Hattie Jacques, a comedienne & former colleague from the Carry Ons. It was only a brief chat, but having presented myself in such an awkward way, we were able to have a very normal conversation. Because of this she became real to me, and not just a national treasure I knew from the telly. So I am really sad to hear of her death. She was suffering severely from Alzheimer's, so I'm glad she will suffer no more. My heart is with her family and friends at this time.

BBC report

 

Happy Chanukah!

According to the label, this was my first Chanukah. Most likely in East Hampton, NY, where my dad was the rabbi. It was our first Chanukah as a family. What a fine moment that must have been (I don't remember that much of it tbh!).

There is much darkness at the moment. Tonight, in our families of birth and of choice, we begin a community effort to bring the light back. Join us!

Chag Chanukah sameach!

Dahl Was an Antisemite But His Family is Sorry

An article by Gabriel Pogrund in the Sunday Times today reveals (in a somewhat caustic tone) that although Roald Dahl died an unrepentant antisemite, his family members are a bit embarrassed about that and have put an apology up on the Dahl website.

Pogrund quotes such gems of Dahl's as:

"There is a trait in the Jewish character that does provoke animosity, maybe it's a kind of lack of generosity towards non-Jews. I mean there's always a reason why anti-anything crops up anywhere ... Even a stinker like Hitler didn't just pick on them for no reason." (Roald Dahl in 1983 in an interview with the New Statesman quoted in the Sunday Times - original article not available online)

The article suggests that the apology may have been made in order to protect the Dahl brand, which makes millions of pounds in profits each year. I was also rather distressed to read that some people believe the Child Catcher character added to Ian Fleming's original story of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang reputedly by screenwriter Dahl expressed antisemitic themes and stereotypes in its representation.

Dahl is dead. His descendants have made an apology. I don't think this means we should or can forgive Dahl - that's impossible since he is definitely dead. It is good to know that his family is embarrassed by the prejudice that clearly existed in their famous relative. 

What then might the purpose of the apology be? Why should it not be sincere? Could it be a marketing ploy, as Pogrund suggests? If not, perhaps the family needs to do a little more than bury a brief message on their website (you may find it here). Some kind of visible involvement in the fight against hate speech? Public donations to organisations that teach tolerance? Or maybe even sponsorship of an initiative within the Jewish community. What would Miss Honey say?!

Insieme Contro La Violenza Sulle Donne

Today is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. If you would like to know more about this initiative, the United Nations website here is a good starting point.

A pair of red shoes has become a symbol for this movement. I am not exactly sure why - please let me know if you know the origin - but it certainly catches one's eye. These shoes were placed on the Ringadora Stone in the centre of Modena today.

Here are some facts that everyone should know.

Click here for advice and information regarding violence against women in the time of Covid-19.

Ways we can help.

Diego Armando Maradona RIP

It was sad to hear the news that Diego Maradona has died. Here in Italy it is headline news, and much of the evening on tv has been spent eulogising him. 

Living and being a football fan in the UK during the height of Maradona's career, of course the defining memory is the infamous "Hand of God" incident (Maradona commented on it some years later in a chat with Gary Lineker). Thus, although I cannot deny his footballing ability, there was quite a bit of resentment, not so much for using his hand, but for the way he responded when challenged about it. 

The photograph above, that I took at Wembley just over a year after that World Cup match, marks the only time that I saw Maradona play live. It was a commemorative friendly between a team representing the Football League and a Rest of the World XI. I remember clearly that when Maradona came out onto the pitch, the first thing he did was to wave the offending hand at the crowd (which might be the reason behind why he was booed whenever he had the ball).

Maradona was a gifted player, and had a stellar career, but was also plagued with problems of substance abuse and addiction. His demise is sad and premature. He will be remembered for his contribution to the beautiful game. May his loved ones be comforted as they mourn their loss.

tributes on the BBC news page

BBC obituary

Kristallnacht 2020

[Cannot seem to embed YouTube video so please have a look via this link:  Kristallnacht]

My father was in Berlin during Kristallnacht. Actually, his family had been warned about the possible pogrom and had gone into hiding in the attic of a house in the suburbs. They were there with about 10 other people, for quite a few days. The video above gives a brief version of what happened next. For the rest of his story, the Museum of Jewish Heritage in NYC features "Albert's Story" as an educational tool in their Shoah curriculum. You can see more of it here.

To be honest, my father never talked that much about his experiences. He always said that he would answer any questions that we had. The problem for me was, I didn't know which questions to ask. With regard to Kristallnacht, the most striking part of his story for me was always when he spoke about going back home after it was (supposedly) all over. The family travelled separately, and my father was with his father, Alex. He told me how he could feel the shards of glass as he walked along the street, he could feel them through his shoes. And he said that there was a moment in the U-Bahn when he lost hold of his father's hand. That is the memory that sticks with me, the feeling in that instant.

Today, this date also marks the moment when I went to the German Embassy in London with my mother 3 years ago and we reclaimed our German citizenship. It was not a conscious choice to have the appointment that day, yet it made sense that it was then that a smidgeon of something we had lost was returned to us. 

We mourn what cannot be restored, and we are hopeful that a new chapter of healing is now possible. There's a lot to do - let's get busy!

Ho Ho Ho Hector Hugh Munro

Mad bad procrastination today. Not so good for my future, but for the present I rediscovered after 40 years the wonderful short stories of Saki. Delightfully wicked ... The Lumber Room, The Open Window and, for cat-lovers, Tobermory. Really cheered me up.

Enter here.

Parshat Vayeira and When to Speak Up

 

It's time again for my contribution to Liberal Judaism's Thought for the Week - something inspired by the upcoming Torah portion. This one is for Parshat Vayeira:

In this week’s parasha, as the covenantal relationship between Abraham and Adonai begins to develop, we can hardly believe Abraham’s chutzpah. Not only does he question Adonai, but then Abraham argues with Adonai and, as if that wasn’t enough, he somehow convinces Adonai to back down from a decision that has already been made. Abraham makes a cogent and humble case that it is unjust for the innocent to suffer with the guilty, and the plan is immediately recalibrated, several times. Chutzpahdik! Yet Adonai accepts all the corrections that Abraham offers in his quest for justice. Unfortunately, not one innocent person can be found, and Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed.  

 

If we wonder why Adonai appears to be so lenient when directly challenged, a clue may be found a few verses earlier:

 

“Now Adonai had said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do … for I have singled him out, that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of Adonai by doing what is just and right”[1]

 

However omnipotent Adonai may be, in this relationship model Abraham is offered a behind-the-scenes view of how justice works. Adonai says that this is a kind of professional development session to help Abraham instruct subsequent generations how to follow a just and right path. And Abraham shows that he has a natural instinct for the task. He speaks up where he sees injustice, his words are heard, and the system is changed. The two of them have a positive experience together, which bodes well for the future.

 

Or does it? If this example teaches that the human partner in the covenantal relationship plays an active role in determining what is right and wrong, isn’t there a slippery slope towards making decisions based on what you want, rather than what you should do? The parasha responds to this question with the story of the binding of Isaac.

 

Isaac represents everything that God has promised Abraham in exchange for his loyalty. God now says:

 

“Take your son, your favourite, the one that you love, Isaac; and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I will point out to you.”[2]

 

God uses the same words of command, “lech lecha”, as God did in the original invitation to the Covenant, but this time God requires something terrible from Abraham, a sacrifice that seems unbearable to us. And what does Abraham say? Not one word! He gets up early the next morning, and follows God’s commands to the letter. In the end, Abraham’s hand is stayed at the last minute, and an unlucky ram is sacrificed instead of Isaac. However, at no point in the text do we see any sign of Abraham questioning God’s decision. In this example of the covenantal relationship, the human partner submits entirely to the will of God, proving their faith by their deeds and their acceptance of the consequences of their actions. But is this not also a slippery slope?

 

If the human role in the brit is always to submit, never thinking about what we are doing, we risk becoming mindlessly obedient slaves to the system. Suffering becomes a product of God’s will. How then could we become aware of injustice, and speak up against it? 

 

This portion presents us with two powerful principles, each at the opposite end of the spectrum from the other. They are both valid responses to our relationship with God and available for us to choose. And that is what we need to learn:  how to make the appropriate choice for the situation. Abraham teaches us that different situations require different responses. There is a time to speak up, and a time to submit. The challenge for us is to figure out which is which. 

 

As Abraham is in the early stages of his relationship with Adonai, so are we. Before we must decide how to respond, shouldn’t we learn more about our own relationships?  We might begin with some instruction from Abraham. The Torah portion tells of his hospitality, his sense of justice and his faith. He was someone who reached out to strangers, offering physical sustenance and moral support. We have a long history of knowing what it is like to be strangers, exiles, refugees. We cannot let this empathy be corrupted by the isolation of social distancing and lockdown. 

 

So let us focus on a positive perspective – despite the current restrictions, what is possible? Look for local projects that are offering a community response to tackling food poverty[3]. Perhaps you can take part in the Age UK campaign to alleviate loneliness amongst older people[4]. Are there letters you can write or phonecalls you can make on behalf of programmes[5] that support refugees, or that fight hate crimes, or that raise awareness about mental health in your borough or city?

 

As we lift up our eyes, may we become aware of what is just and right. As we learn what it means to be a partner with Adonai, may we find the strength and the flexibility to know when to be a chutzpadik and when to yield.

 

 

 

---

[1] Genesis 18: 17 & 19

 

[2] Genesis 22:2

[3] for example in London there is https://www.jw3.org.uk/help-us-now

[4] for example https://www.vccp.com/work/cadbury/donate-your-words/

[5] for example https://www.citizensuk.org/national_campaigns

Finding Focus

It's not the first time, and probably won't be the last, that I note that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment. This is, of course, compounded by the fact that I think I share the feeling with almost everyone I know. While everything is relative, I think these are really tough times, and I'm definitely seeking direction.

The other day I came upon the note pictured above. If I remember correctly, it was from a WRN Biennial in 1997. I had just escaped from my first job in Toronto for a few days in the sun with  friends and colleagues,  and was really a bit low. There was a group exercise where we shared some thoughts and feelings, and afterwards wrote messages for each other. I have no memory if and what I wrote for someone else, but I kept the message I received:

God's lion

You are so strongly and beautifully

who you are

Shine

Roar

Love (not exactly legible but have always read it as this)

Heal

Heal others

May you be blessed

as you find the

Blessing in others.

It comforted me then. As I reread it today, it seems clear to me that I need to refocus. I am thinking so much about all the things that are making me feel bad - physical pain, how the coronavirus may and does affect my life, work problems, the deaths of old family friends (& famous people whose work I appreciate), people behaving badly, governments and their actions. This message reminds me not just to seek, but to FIND the blessing in others. It is certainly there.

Thank you to the author:  my colleague and teacher, Rabbi Karyn Kedar.

Shavuatov.