Musings from Self-Isolation-Day 12

Day 12

To paraphrase the Carpenters, rainy days and Saturdays always get me down.

But, not today. Not on what is being called the most crucial weekend for curve-flattening in our city. The more it rains today and tomorrow, the more people will stay home and the more links in the viral chain will be broken. With the city effectively shut down for anything social and the rain keeping people indoors and aways from parks and sidewalks, we have a huge opportunity here to really mess with the curve. I'm looking at it this way...

Rainy days and Saturdays are a huge blessing in the pandemic era.

People are asking me if I'm ok. I am. I just need to vent from time to time. It is how I manage my mental health. Some people cry and some watch Mel Brooks movies. I vent my spleen of pent up hostility toward all the stupidity I perceive around me. It isn't directed at any one person, (unless you are married to me and, believe me, he takes on a shitload) but it is, instead, me issuing a global tongue-lashing and hopefully a few people might get the not-so-subtle hint.

We have been studying the book of Proverbs during our weekly Shabbat Torah study, and today we came across a fascinating and strangely relevant passage for the times in which we find ourselves.

A scoundrel, an evil man
Lives by crooked speech,
Shuffling his feet,
Pointing his finger.

Duplicity is in his heart;
He plots evil all the time;
He incites quarrels
Therefore calamity will come upon him without warning;
Suddenly he will be broken beyond repair. (Proverbs 6:12-15)

It continues...

Six things the Lord hates;
Seven are an abomination to Him:
A haughty bearing,
A lying tongue,
Hands that shed innocent blood,
A mind that hatches evil plots,
Feet quick to run to evil,
A false witness testifying lies,
And one who incites brothers to quarrel. (Proverbs 6:16-19)

The question was asked if evil is the correct word. Is perhaps, wicked a better descriptor? I think it is a difficulty with the translation but it is worth a discussion. How do we view the difference between evil and wickedness? I think that evil is a core issue; a malevolence and sociopathy that is so fundamental to a particular person that they derive a twisted pleasure from the results of their cruelty. I'd like to think that wickedness can be educated out of an individual. At Passover, we read about the four children and we do not discount the wicked child. We use the opportunity to teach and hope that this child will learn from her selfishness. Evil is unteachable. Wicked seems to have the ability for self-growth.

But come on...

Doesn't that passage from Proverbs describe a certain world leader to a fricking tee? I found it positively creepy.

A few random thoughts.

My hands are so dry that even the callouses and hangnails have their own callouses and hangnails. There isn't enough moisturizer in the world to bring them back to life. I am now resigned to having old-lady hands for the rest of my days.

There is an empty parking lot directly across the street from our window and as I look out right now, I see a father and a small child of no more than five-years-old playing tennis. Mostly they are just running around but it is cute and properly distanced.

Have you all learned any lessons from the last few weeks? I am amazed at the many progressive ideas that were previously derided as untenable and impossible, that are now being implemented by governments and businesses. That guaranteed basic income is looking pretty good to Canadians right now, isn't it? How about how little you really need to get by? Places of worship have drastically altered their mission statements and have seen an increase in participation. I realize that some of that growth is because people have a lot more time on their hands, but it is fascinating to see what kinds of programs lend themselves to the online world and don't require in-person attendance. I also have been reminded as to how important our teachers and minimum wage earners are to the smooth running of our societies. I've said it before and I'll say it again, pay them all. If you haven't been able to leave your home for a while and aren't doing right by the person delivering your groceries, you need a slap upside your head. We absolutely can afford a fifteen dollar per hour minimum wage. We are proving it every single day right now.

Today's music break comes from Toronto's own Barenaked Ladies. 




Wash your hands. Don't touch your face. Be kind. Stay healthy.

The Dimming of the Day

וַיִּקְרָא אֱלֹהִים | לָאוֹר יוֹם וְלַחשֶׁךְ קָרָא לָיְלָה וַיְהִי עֶרֶב וַיְהִי בֹקֶר יוֹם אֶחָד

Va-yikra Elohim La-or yom v'la-chodesh kara laila, Va-y'hi erev va-y'hi boker yom echad.

And God called the light day, and the darkness He called night, and there was evening and there was morning, one day. (Gen 1:5)

I have recently become rather enamoured with sunsets.

I can't really explain this new-found infatuation other than to say that residency here in the Southern Home does afford the opportunity for me to gaze upon some of the most vivid and spectacular twilights. It would be easy to become complacent about the majesty, but so far I have not.

And these are just from my balcony using little to no filter. (The iPhone 7 has an amazing camera.)

Watching the sun do its daily disappearing act to the other side of the world has raised a myriad of existential questions for me, but rather than bore you all with my mid-life panic attacks and angst, I thought I might focus on just one.

Why is watching a sunset so captivating?

So, as is my habit, I turned first to my religious roots.

The highlighted verse above from Genesis is commonly used to explain why we Jews view our days as beginning at sunset rather than at sunrise.

There was evening and there was morning...

Evening comes first.

Some rabbinic scholars have used this text as a metaphor for life itself. We begin our days within the darkness of the womb and burst forward into the light. (A bit too cheesy and grade school for my liking, but what's a good religion without a few heavy-handed metaphors?)

But what if rather than secularly thinking of sunrise as the beginning of our day, we paused to consider that dusk could actually be that point in time when things renew. Perhaps my infatuation with the sunset is less about reflections on the day that has passed and rather it is a rumination on what lies ahead in the coming of the light

As I began to post some of my photos on social media, a friend shared her thoughts with me.

"I finally figured out in part what my fascination is. It has to do with seeing the beauty in transition. We are often fearful of transition in our lives but the shots remind me of just how beautiful it can be."

And then she sent me this....

Photo: Elaine P

I know...right???

I think that there is merit in her idea. We all seem to struggle with change, but the setting sun seems to reassure us that there is beauty in the struggle and excitement in the coming darkness. The new day is always filled with the possibilities.

I would also like to think that there is a modicum of hope splashing around in there somewhere. These are trying times. Each day lately seems to bring new fears, new anguish, new-found anger, new divisions, new misery. The glow of the sky in the early evening seems to suggest to me that things can get better. Even at my most pessimistic (and believe me when I say that the last few months have seen me at the depths of my cynicism) the renewal of the sunset hints at a confidence and an optimism.

I can't end this rambling without a nod to my own name. Dawn literally means beginning and it is synonymous with the first light of day. I'm am not discounting the optimism that could very surely lay in the rising of the sun nor am I dismissing the beauty of a sunrise, but I do think that both I and the time of day my name is borne from are slightly less mesmerizing than dusk. 

I will leave you all with several photos from my travels. These are all originals and were taken by either The Husband or myself. I ask that if you share them, please give due credit.

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-olam, oseh ma-aseh v'reisheet.

We praise you Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, who makes the work of creation.

Key West

Sydney Australia

Uluru

Ketchikan Alaska

Vancouver British Columbia

Bahamas

Key West

Send me your best sunset photos. I would love to see them. 

Shabbat Shalom

Holy Work on Shabbat

I am spending Shabbat morning watching this scene from my balcony.

Why you may ask?

Well before I answer that question, a bit of backstory is in order.

This is the pool in our building in the Southern Home. Several months ago, the city found several problems with the now almost thirty-year-old structure and insisted on repairs. The condo association tried to put off the fixes for as long as possible (read: until the snowbird season was concluded) but the city would have none of it. If the repairs weren't done in a timely manner, fines would be imposed. So last week, the pool was drained and work began on the removal of tile, the reparation of cracks, lighting replacement, and various other smaller issues. We were told that the project could take several weeks and as such, those who used the pool on a regular basis would need to make alternate arrangements. Yes, there was plenty of bitching and moaning from people in the building, but sometimes there just isn't a choice. 

Given the location of the pool with respect to our condo, the Husband and I have had a front-row seat to the action. And it has been surprisingly and hypnotically entertaining. 

At times it felt as though the job would never get started let alone completed. We saw a lot of standing around by workers. While there were at least four guys here on any given day, it was rare to see more than one work at a time. Granted, we are not pool repair people and are ignorant to the craft, but it did seem that more than a few dramatic domestic issues were being played out on phone calls than actual pool repair. (Yes...we can hear conversations clearly and I really hope that whoever was on the other end of one particularly vile string of expletives was smart enough to leave the SOB.) 

That said, while the work did seem to progress at the pace of a snail racing a sponge, it did progress.  I noticed that I was starting to recognize the various craftspeople and to understand what each particular contribution was to the project as a whole. There were the tile master and the concrete pourer. There were the electrician and the apprentice. There was the one guy who was here for one day and fired the next. (We know he was fired because they talked about it...loudly.) I noticed the particular dynamics of their work environment, how it actually functioned like a well-choreographed dance. I observed how some of the guys had an obvious report and how they might ignore or playfully haze the newcomers. But mostly, I was enthralled by their music.

In the early days, we were treated to the dulcet tones of Luther Vandross and Anita Baker. R&B wafted up to our apartment and it soothed. And the men....they sang along. They sang with passion and they sang with warmth. They sang without even knowing they were singing. It came from their souls. One gentleman, in particular, has a voice that any cantor would kill for and the echoing of his deep baritone off of the empty pool walls cascaded upward like a gift from the gods.

A few days ago, their music choices inexplicably changed to gospel. There were affirmations and holy exclamations. We were witness to a revival and a collective baptism in a pool without water. They were renewed. They were cleansed. Those craftsmen brought God to this place.

This morning, on Shabbat morning, sixteen men came to work. (They are trying to speed up the project and hopefully will finish early next week.) And they came to sing. And, oh how they sing.  These men are most definitely experiencing the presence of the Divine Spirit as they inch towards the completion of their task. These men have found a measure of holiness in their labour, a sense of Kadosh, and they are sharing it with me. I can't imagine a more precious gift.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “The Sabbath is the presence of God in the world, open to the soul of man.” God is not in things of space, but in moments of time.” 

Thank you to these generous souls who gave me a glimpse of The Divine Spirit on this Shabbat.

Something Frivolous Because We Need It

I went for a walk this morning along the boardwalk at Miami Beach. It is really one of my absolute favourite ways to celebrate Shabbat. There is an ease about the place that makes me feel a bit closer to The Almighty. The smell of the ocean, the gentle breeze, the palm trees swaying...the homeless people sleeping on the sand. I am so often struck by the dichotomy of a place that is obviously dripping with beauty and wealth and yet is the landing spot for so many in need.  But...I digress.

There is also a strange intersection that occurs on the beach on Shabbat. The eruv (an urban area enclosed by a wire boundary that symbolically extends the private domain of Jewish households into public areas, permitting activities within it that are normally forbidden in public on the Sabbath.) which is visible from the boardwalk serves to protect the more observant and fully clothed Shomeir-Shabbas Jews from the partially naked sunbathers and tanned exercisers who run, walk, cycle, or generally just shpatzir (saunter) their way to and from South Beach. I usually chuckle at the absurdity of the situation and this morning was no exception. About the exact same time that I was considering the goofiness of naked women on the beach abutted right up against Orthodox women practicing tzniut, (modesty) it struck me that something interesting occurs as one briefly passes by others. Only a small segment of conversations are audible and they happen so quickly in that momentary interaction, that trying to glean the true meaning of any dialogue is an impossibility. I decided to record some of those fragments I overheard this morning and put them together into one continuous chat. I have separated out the individual fragments into lines. Each line is a different conversation.

They were at a bonfire.

In California, you've got to do this crazy outdoor stuff.

One of these things I got for Christmas you had to spit in it.

Porque no?

Porque los necesito para las niñas.

I tell you this straight from the heart, not the head, the heart.

But it's amortized over five years.

I can't stand to be around him.

But we be jammin, yes?

Down boy! 

I only had a light lunch. I need more.

Oh la la. 

Do you really want to see THIS fucking flop around on the beach?

You look hot.

I'm heaving it's so humid.

Water, water.

We're gonna do it. Keep going.

 Can I go lower?

I swear that I didn't expect it to come out so 50-Shades/porn-like. I really thought that this would be an exercise in observing humanity rather than the verbal construction of a sex act. While my faith in humanity is somewhat restored (notice that not one of these snippets uses the words Trump, president, or fucking lunatic) and my Spanish is definitely improving, I am either really really bad at this eavesdropping thing or my mind is truly in the gutter. In any case, I'm pretty sure that this is how all those Harlequin romance authors got their starts.

My Shabbat Online

My Shabbat morning was strangely schizophrenic today.

I spent the first part logged on to my home synagogue's brand new streaming feature so that I might partake of our weekly Torah study and to watch the Bar Mitzvah of an extremely involved and capable young man. I haven't yet found a synagogue down here in the Southern Home in which I feel entirely comfortable, so the connection via the interwebs is much like wrapping myself in a warm blanket sent from home, especially on Shabbat.

Following services, I switched on the TV and found myself watching the funeral mass for Justice Antonin Scalia. It isn't as though I am enamoured with funerals, nor do I consider myself ghoulish, but I have been struck this week by the tremendous polarization of the Justice and his opinions, and by the outpouring of both tributes and enmity at his passing. I was curious to see how the Washington elites on both sides of the political aisle might come together to honour a man who was nothing if not extremely controversial throughout his career.

Having little to no previous insight into Justice Scalia's personal life, (such is my lot as a passive Canadian observer) I was surprised to discover that one of his sons is a priest and that he was the celebrant at the mass. I was struck by Fr. Scalia's grace and composure as he honoured his father. As someone who has officiated at many funerals, I was rather surprised at his ability to set aside his own grief for the sake of his faith, and the public ease with which he was able to carry out his religious duties. And so...I tweeted the following:

As a Jew who has officiated at many funerals I am in awe of Fr. Paul #Scalia for his grace & composure for his father. #ScaliaFuneral

— Dawn Bernstein (@guitardawn) February 20, 2016

Within seconds, I was inundated with likes, retweets, and discussions. I have been using Twitter for many years now, and I have never before (even in the Rob Ford heyday) had so many people interact with me. Even more stunning, was the fact that most of them were extremely conservative Christians and right-wing Republicans with whom I have very little in common, at least on the surface. (As I write this, the Twitter interactions are still pouring in.)

But I suppose that just by noting something with decency and with a modicum of courtesy, my tweet struck a nerve with others who were watching. It is easy to heckle and criticize, or to praise and dogmatize Justice Scalia for his opinions and his polarizing views, but today he was being remembered as a father and a devoutly religious man by the people who loved and knew him best...his family.

One woman who engaged me in a very respectful conversation wondered whether or not I felt it "emotionally healthy" that the son was presiding over his father's funeral. And while I am not in any way, shape, or form a therapist, I responded that while I had always abdicated the bimah when my family was involved, I had learned over many years that there is no right or wrong way to deal with grief and death. Perhaps the good Father required this ritual as a tangible method of managing his own sorrow? Perhaps his faith was that which enabled him to get through a very rough personal time, and more importantly, who are we to judge? The woman who asked me the initial question, an atheist by description, quietly and humbly acquiesced.

My interaction today with the Twittersphere was enlightening. We all know of the filth and excrement that can and does burrow deep within, but today showed me that while left and right can fundamentally disagree on politics and religion, there are many out there, on both sides, made up of lovely, decent, and caring people. Believe me when I say that I wouldn't want to see an entire court made up of like-minded justices, but today Antonin Scalia was just a man being mourned in a most profound way by his son and the rest of his family. And in one little corner of Twitter, civility reigned for just a brief moment in time.

Not a bad way to observe Shabbat if I do say.

Shabbat Music Break

Our final Shabbat Music Break Broadway Style recognizes one of my favourite theatre going experiences of the last two years. My infatuation with Idina Menzel is well-documented, but seeing her in this incredible production was stupefyingly mind-blowing. If/Then tells the story of Elizabeth, a 40-something who has moved back to New York following the breakup of her marriage. Her life is mapped out for her depending on the choices she makes and the people she meets. The play is a bit like the movie Sliding Doors starring Gwyneth Paltrow, in that it follows the same character on two distinct life paths that are dependent on the options presented. Ms Menzel is always a revelation, and the music has been perfectly tailored to her immense vocal talents. I tend to weep every single time I see her live. It's kind of a thing between her and me. If/Then has begun a national tour and will hit Toronto in the spring, and while Ms Menzel will not be in the cast, it is still an incredible theatre experience. It is not a show for the lazy theatre goer and it is not a show for those expecting big, brassy production numbers. It requires attention, thought, and perspective. It is very adult and very brilliant.

Here is the "11:00" number. I convulsed with tears.

If/Then (2014)
Music: Tom Kitt
Lyrics: Brian Yorkey
Book: Brian Yorkey

Song: Always Starting Over

Shabbat Music Break

Our Shabbat Music Break today is the Tony Award winner for Best Musical of 2015 Fun Home. Adapted from Alison Bechdel's 2006 graphic memoir of the same name, Fun Home the musical follows her complicated relationship with her closeted father and her coming to terms with her own sexuality. Told through the eyes of Bechdel at various ages and through her own experiences as a comics artist, the play alternates between poignant and heart-wrenching. The music is incredible and the intimate setting at Circle in the Square Theatre perfectly captures the sense of claustrophobia that both of the main characters must have felt as they were locked into their hidden lives. I walked out in tears. Fun Home isn't a classic big ballsy Broadway musical and at times it is difficult to watch. It is, however, a game-changer in the theatrical world and needs to be seen by a wide audience. It elevates Broadway to the next level.

Fun Home (2015)
Music by: Jeanine Tesori
Lyrics by: Lisa Kron
Book by: Lisa Kron

Song: Ring of Keys

Shabbat Music Break

Today I offer another in my series of Shabbat Music Breaks Broadway with the incredibly clever and hysterically funny new musical Something Rotten. Set in South London in the late 1590s, Something Rotten follows the story of the struggling Bottom brothers as they attempt to make it in a theatrical world dominated by their arch nemesis William Shakespeare. Opening on Broadway in March 2015, it was nominated for a myriad of theatre awards including 10 Tonys, (winning but 1) including Best Musical. This show is just a rip-roaring great time at the theatre.

Something Rotten (2015)

Music by: Wayne Kirkpatrick and Karey Kirkpatrick

Lyrics by: Wayne Kirkpatrick and Karey Kirkpatrick

Book by: Karey Kirkpatrick and John O'Farrell

Song: A Musical

Shabbat Music Break

In order to have a bit of a respite on Shabbat, I will continue my tradition of Shabbat Music Breaks. This year, I have decided to introduce you to some of my favourite Broadway musical performances of the past several years. (I plan on writing much more about Broadway throughout this month of blogging hell. Stay tuned.) Today's instalment comes from the 2014 Tony Award winner for Best Musical, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder.  A wonderful and clever farce in the tradition of Oscar Wilde, Gentleman's Guide follows the antics of our hero Monty Navarro and his interactions with the upperclass D'Ysquith family. We recently had the opportunity to catch the show, but it is unfortunately closing in New York in January. A tour has already been announced and it will be making its way to Toronto in the spring. Run, don't walk to see it. Shabbat Shalom.

A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder

Music by: Steven Lutvak

Lyrics by: Robert L. Freedman & Steven Lutvak

Book by: Robert L. Freedman

Song: I've Decided to Marry You

Di Goldene Pave

Every so often a story just lends itself to a blog post.

Did you know that there is a peacock running loose today in downtown Toronto?

Apparently the photogenic bird is not all that happy with his (yup it's a boy!) accommodations at the High Park zoo, and has flown the coop twice in the past two days. He was last seen parkouring the rooftops of the west end.

There was something in the back of my music-addled and age-atrophied brain about a peacock and Jewish music. So, I did what any trivia-challenged fifty-something might do. I googled it and found a eureka! It seems that the Golden Peacock is a mythical symbol of Yiddish literature and song. Many a Yiddish poet has written about the majestic bird and more than a few songwriters have put those poems to music.

Here is a beautiful melody based on a piece by Anna Margolin with music by Chava Alberstein, sung by Chava Alberstein and The Klezmatics. Enjoy!




iz di goldene pave gefloygn, gefloygn.
un di nakht hot geefnet di goldene oygn,
likhtiker mayner, shlof ayn.

di nakht hot geefnet di goldene oygn,
bin ikh fidl gevorn un du der boygn,
umruiker mayner, shlof ayn.

bin ikh fidl gevorn un du der boygn,
un doz glik iber undz hot farlibt zikh geboygn,
tsertlekher mayner, shlof ayn.

un dos glik iber undz hot farlibt zikh geboygn,
gelozt undz aleyn un farfloygn, farfloygn,
troyeriker mayner, shlof ayn.

The golden peacock has flown off, flown off.
And the night has opened its golden eyes,
Oh, my bright one, go to sleep.

The night has opened its golden eyes,
I was the fiddle and you were the bow,
Oh, my tense one, go to sleep.

I was the fiddle and you were the bow,
And fortune loved us and bowed down over us,
Oh, my soft one, go to sleep.

And fortune loved us and bowed down over us,
Left us alone and flew off, flew off.
Oh, my sad one, go to sleep.

This wayward peacock traversing the downtown core seems to be a sign. Maybe his sprint for freedom is something that we can all strive for this Shabbat and perhaps we can just enjoy him and his beauty in peace?

Shabbat Shalom

Everything is Connected

I am continually amazed by the power of camp. At least the one that I attended. It seems that no matter how far we have all travelled, how diverse our journeys, we all remain interconnected by that cow patch in Indiana. It has been a long time since I was there, and yet events keep popping up that somehow wield a magical force which transports me back to those days of sweltering heat, Shabbat walks, and sugar-laden bug juice. That confluence of happenings is occurring once again this Shabbat in Washington D.C.

This weekend, NFTY-The North American Federation of Temple Youth, is celebrating their 75th anniversary with an alumni concert, featuring my old GUCI buddy Dan Nichols. GUCI's Avodah '82 took it upon themselves to arrange for a reunion using the concert as the centrepiece of their weekend festivities. I was not a part of that Avodah crew. I was a counsellor and songleader that year, but their festivities did get me thinking about that summer, the summer of '82. That was the summer of "Everything is Connected."

Now if any of you have ever been inside of the GUCI gates, have had any connection to GUCI campers or staff, or have even been to a Dan Nichols concert or seminar, you will have heard about "Everything is Connected." It is one of those urban legend-type stories that is hardly believable some thirty plus years later. But, for those of us who were there to witness it, it remains one of the singular defining moments of our camp experience.

It all began with the legendary and remarkably gifted Bonia Shur. Bonia was a great composer and an unbelievable force in Reform Jewish music. His compositions are performed around the world, and he was a deeply respected professor of liturgical arts at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati. In the summer of '82, Bonia and his wife Fanchon came to visit GUCI for a Shabbat to act as a sort of scholar/musician in residence. This was long before any of us immature teenagers truly understood what a gift it was having Bonia in our midst. Bonia was brilliant, but eccentric. He had a wild, unkempt look about him, a sort of shlubby-looking Beethoven, and he was so far ahead of his time in trying to convey new age ideas on liturgy and prayer circles, that most of us really didn't know what to make of him. We tended to giggle a lot and we were wholly unimpressed that Fanchon wanted to introduce movement into our prayer experiences. We had no idea what was to come.

After lights-out on Kabbalat Shabbat, the staff was directed to attend a special Oneg. Bonia and Fanchon would be leading the program. He had the entire staff stand in a large circle in the dining hall. Bonia then proceeded to take a long rope and asked everybody to grab hold of it. Fanchon insisted that we move the rope together rhythmically as one community. Now, just picture it. A group of sweaty, awkward teenagers and young staff standing in a circle clutching a rope and moving it forward and backward. There was a lot of laughing and a lot of mocking. But Bonia was undeterred. He just kept it moving. Finally, he asked somebody, anybody, to shout out a phrase as to how this made them feel. I honestly can't recall who said it, but somebody yelled "Everything is connected!" Bonia began to chant a melody. "Everything is connected. Everything is connected." Over and over again. It went on and on and on. We convulsed in giggles. He asked for another phrase. "It will work out!", another person yelled. Bonia began to chant. And he kept chanting. And he kept chanting. "Everything is connected. It will work out!"

Most of us had never heard the phrase 'mantra' before, and even fewer had ever been to a yoga class. But Bonia knew. He just kept chanting and kept the rope moving. It went on for what seemed like an eternity. I don't remember when it happened or even how it happened, but suddenly I realized that I was chanting too. And so was every single person in that room. "Everything is connected. It will work out." The laughter and mocking gave way to spiritual involvement. The discomfort at trying something new melted as we found relaxation in the prayer. There was serenity in the interconnectivity. Later that weekend, Bonia and Fanchon introduced our new GUCI mantra to the entire camp. Everything is Connected became the watchword for the summer.

I don't think that any of us could have foreseen social media and how intertwined we would still be in 2015. That Shabbat evening in Zionsville united us all in a way that can still be talked about, but never truly felt unless you were there to experience it. But, Bonia knew it all those years ago and he insisted that we share it. Interconnectivity is vital to everything that we do in our lives. We all have an impact and an import on those around us; those with whom we live, work, and love. We cannot and should not neglect those relationships, because in the end we are all we have. 

It has been an incredibly challenging start to 2015. Perhaps if we all just take a step back, breathe in and out rhythmically, and chant Bonia's mantra, we might find a bit more peace on this Shabbat. Have fun Avodah '82. Everything is still very much connected.

Shabbat Music Break

This is the last in my month-long series of women in rock whom I believe have been snubbed by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Today's entry is Melissa Etheridge

Melissa became eligible for admission last year, but has not yet received a nomination. Male fronted bands who began in the same era as did she, including The Red Hot Chili Peppers (inducted) and Green Day (nominated this year), have already found their way onto the committee's radar.

She is a two time Grammy award winner for for Best Rock Performance female and she has been nominated another thirteen times in various Grammy categories. Her 1993 album Yes I Am spent 138 weeks on the charts and was certified 6x platinum. As a matter of fact, her first five albums went platinum or higher. Her discography boasts of fifteen long play albums, mostly consisting of songs that she herself composed. She also won the Academy Award for Best Song in 2007 for "I Need to Wake Up" from the documentary An Inconvenient Truth. 

Melissa has been a fearless social advocate for gay rights, the environment, and breast cancer awareness. Her driving performance of Janis Joplin's Piece of My Heart while bald and weak from chemotherapy stopped the 2005 Grammy Awards and is still considered to be one of the all-time greatest live performances. Melissa is still a fixture on tour, hard-rocking it out with both her signature six and twelve-string Ovations, and it is my opinion that her induction into the Rock Hall is only a matter of time.

Shabbat Music Break

Today's edition of "Women who Should Be in the Rock Hall but Aren't" features the amazing Pat Benatar. Pat has always been a trailblazer and a true original in the rock world. In fact, she didn't even start out singing rock until her early twenties. Classically trained with thoughts about opera and musical theatre, she turned down a spot at Julliard in order to pursue a very different musical dream. Armed with that killer voice, a high kinetic stage presence, and an image of tough sexuality, Pat charged up the charts in the '80s and '90s. She is a four-time Grammy winner for Best Female Rock Vocalist and was nominated three additional times. Two multi-platinum albums, five platinum albums, three gold albums and 15 top 40 singles, including three Top 10 hits, should have solidified her entrance into the Hall, but sadly she has never once been nominated. What more does see need to do to be considered?

**Note: I really wanted to use a live version for this song so that you could witness Pat's performing prowess. The problem here is that there is a full minute of audience screaming before the song begins. Skip ahead to about 1:03.

Shabbat Musc Break

Today's Shabbat Music Break edition of "I can't believe that she's not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame" is devoted to the Queen of Rock and Roll. The argument generally used to explain away why Tina Turner  has not been inducted is that she is already there along with her ex husband Ike. But, if Eric Clapton and Paul McCartney can be inducted three separate times each, then the time has certainly come to recognize the brilliance of Tina's solo career. Tina Turner had arguably the greatest comeback and second act in rock history. Without her lead, performers like Janet Jackson and Beyonce wouldn't even exist today. She toured more than any other solo female act for almost twenty years, with perhaps the exception of Cher, and her high energy shows are legendary. It stuns me that Tina Turner has never once been nominated for induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist, and frankly it is long overdue.

Shabbat Music Break

Today's Shabbat Music Break continues the discussion of women who have been sorely overlooked for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, while lesser artists (mostly male) of their generations have been admitted.

Today we examine the case for Carly Simon. If we accept the premise that the Hall has accepted that singer/songwriters like Carly are justifiable inductees, then we have to look at her case as being an egregious oversight by Hall voters. James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, and Laura Nyro are already enshrined in the Hall, while Carly has been consistently overlooked. She had 9 top twenty singles and 8 top twenty LPs, including No Secrets which spent five weeks at number 1. She has won several Grammy awards including Best New Artist in 1971, and an Academy Award and Golden Globe for "Let the River Run" from Working Girl in 1988. She was also awarded with the Grammy Hall of Fame Award for "You're So Vain" (the quintessential revenge song...Take that, Taylor Swift!) in 2004 and was inducted into the Songwriter's Hall of Fall in 1994. While I would argue that Nyro was deserving of her place in the Rock Hall, her resume cannot even come close to matching Simon's. Carly Simon is long overdue for induction.

Shabbat Music Break

Welcome back National Blog Posting Month.

I would like to say that I've missed you, but frankly it would be a lie. Thirty posts in thirty days. A herculean task to be certain.

I will have more to say about NaBloPoMo tomorrow, but since the month is beginning on a Saturday, my sabbath, I will continue my practice of music breaks on these days as a way of separating the sacred from the profane. (Although it is quite possible that many of you may find my choice in music an expression of profanity.)

This year I decided that Shabbat Music Breaks would focus on what I see is the travesty that continues to be the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame's lack of female content in their performer inductees. All of the Shabbat Music Breaks for NaBloPoMo will be women whom I believe have been sorely overlooked by the Rock Hall for far too long, while lesser (my opinion) male fronted acts have been celebrated far too soon.

Today I give you Joan Jett, who is finally on this year's short list for induction.

Active since the early 70s and still touring today, it isn't a stretch to call Joan one of the Queen's of Rock and Roll. Her feminist lyrics and hard-driving guitar styles have made her a role model for women in the industry for more than 40 years. Here's hoping for a successful and long overdue induction to the Rock Hall this year.

Shabbat Music Break

I remember when I first discovered Karla Bonoff. A friend had told me of this amazing songwriter who had been selling all of her greatest compositions to Linda Ronstadt. By 1976, there were three of Bonoff's songs on Linda's Hasten Down the Wind LP: "Someone to Lay Down Beside Me," "If He's Ever Near" and "Lose Again." But in 1977, Karla Bonoff had released her first solo album with all of these songs and a few others that I have been singing ever since. I saw her perform live in the early eighties when she was opening for James Taylor. A fantastic double bill of a concert. Bonoff's strength as a songwriter is tremendously apparent in her poignant lyrics and emotive melodies.

Enjoy and Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Music Break

This week's Shabbat Music Break came to me via the new "family to be" who reside in Buckeye country. I had never even heard of Neko Case until last week, and now I find myself searching online to hear more and more of her hauntingly unique voice. It is an added bonus that while she is an American by birth, she has done some of her best work while living up here in the Great White North. Night Still Comes is off of her most recent album The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You. (2013) The harmonies are simply beautiful. Enjoy.

Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Music Break

When I started these Shabbat Music Breaks a few years ago, I didn't set out to offer only women artists, but it certainly has worked out that way. I obviously have a propensity towards the woman's voice as some of my all-time favourite musicians carry the XX chromosome. This isn't at all a knock on the men. I just seem to gravitate towards my fellow females when searching for some kick back tunes.

Lucy Kaplansky began her career as part of the Greenwich Village folk scene along with her contemporaries Shawn Colvin and Suzanne Vega. A friend introduced me to her music about fifteen years ago and she has been a regular part of my iPod rotation ever since. As Mary Chapin Carpenter wrote "There's just no stopping those girls with guitars."

Enjoy and Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Music Break

Shabbat is a time of rest, relaxation, and introspection. I can't imagine a better artist to help facilitate that process than Shawn Colvin. I had the pleasure of hearing her perform live a few weeks ago together with her good friend Mary Chapin Carpenter. They did an intimate acoustic concert that gave off an ambience that felt as though they were singing in my living room. Shotgun Down the Avalanche was a highlight that evening. Here Shawn performs it with another of my all-time favourites, Alison Krauss. Enjoy.

Shabbat Shalom